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Alcoholism at Halloween Time

Old 10-31-2016, 05:41 PM
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Alcoholism at Halloween Time

Alcoholism on Halloween and All Saints’ Day

Halloween tends to be a ghostly occasion, enjoyed by children going “trick or treat” from door to door. In the very early stages of my recovery, I came upon a literary masterpiece relating to alcoholism, written by an author who had suffered from the illness. Malcolm Lowry’s novel, “Under the Volcano”, portrays the last day in the life of a failed British consul in a seaside Mexican village. That was the much venerated “Day of the Dead”, widely known as All Saints’ Day, which follows our Halloween evening. In Mexico and in many Spanish speaking countries it is not only a memorial to the departed, but a celebration, a day to renew old memories, perhaps have picnics in the cemetery. The atmosphere on the way there and in town is festive. A bullfight has been scheduled. There are sidewalk vendors selling chocolate skeletons, crosses and other items.

In the early morning we find the consul sitting in a cantina with his first drink, just after opening hour .He speaks to his estranged lover, Yvonne, as she desperately asks why he insists on killing himself with drink:

“But look here, hang it all, it is not altogether darkness...you misunderstand me if you think it is altogether darkness I see, and if you insist on thinking so, how can I tell you why I do it? But if you look at that sunlight there, ah, then perhaps you get the answer, see look at the way it falls through the window: what beauty can compare to that of a cantina in the early morning...for not even the gates of heaven, opening wide to receive me, could fill me with such celestial, complicated and hopeless joy as the iron screen that rolls up with a crash, as the padlock jostling jalousies which admit those whose souls tremble with the drinks they carry unsteadily to their lips. All mystery, all hope, all disappointment, yes, all disaster, is here, beyond those swinging doors.”

In another scene we find him in a nearby church, with a sympathetic friend, now desperate with drink. The friend suggests that he pray to a saint for help and points to an effigy. The consul asks which saint that is and the friend says that she is “the Virgin for those who have nobody with,” emphasizing the loneliness of the addiction.

The day progresses, darkness deepens and ultimately the consul finds himself in a remote bar in the depths of the jungle, surrounded by hostile desperadoes who suspect that he may be a spy or informer. Ultimately he meets their challenge. He is courageous but is quickly overcome. His body is thrown into a ravine and the novel ends. There has been a sacrifice. The consul has perished, innocent but for his relentless addiction.

As I read this novel I sensed that its author had been where I was and that, unless I did something about it, I might end up as his protagonist. It took me 25 more years to get out of the jungle. Each Halloween the memories come back to me.

W.
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