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The archaeology of ecstasy
DISSECTING ROOM
The archaeology of ecstasy The Long Trip: A Prehistory of Psychedelia Paul Devereux. London: Penguin Press. 1998. Pp 298. £7·99. ISBN 0-14-019540-8 he exploration of psychedelic substances for “mindexpanding” purposes did not, as many assume, start with Timothy Leary’s plea to “Tune in, turn on, drop out”. Nor was the desire for trance states initiated by the writings of Aldous Huxley, William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, or their like. According to Paul Devereux, society has been on a “long trip” for thousands of years, with the use of psychoactive plants sanctioned for ritual, spiritual, or healing purposes. Devereux casts his eye over several threads of archaeological and ethnobotanical evidence that suggests widespread use of mind-altering substances through different ages and regions. For example, artefacts from Neolithic Europe seem likely to have been used for burning opium or cannabis—each in the correct set and setting capable of inducing ecstatic states. The peyote cactus Lophophora williamsii—used today by native Americans for ritual purposes—is depicted on tombs dating back to 100 BC. And did the red and white Father Christmas myth result from Siberian shamans’ use of fly agaric (Amanita muscaria), and his flying reindeer from those animals’ predilection for the same psychoactive mushrooms? Rock art from many different areas and tribes, suggests Devereux, includes imagery as seen through the eyes of those under the influence of hallucinogens. Certain abstract, geometric patterns—known as entoptic imagery—are universal to all trance states, however induced. These entoptic forms perhaps reflect the common circuitry of our perception-processing pathways? Many psychedelics researchers, says Devereux, propose that our minds’ internal construction of our world—our “reality”—is but one cognitive model of the many possible. Could further analytical research with such substances improve understanding of mind-brain functioning? Could we even see the social application of psychedelics as therapeutics to paradigm shift an individual’s consciousness? Ironically, it is substance misuse that has already been the target of such an approach. LSD and MDMA started life in the laboratory as potential psychiatric tools. More recently, ibogaine from the
T
THE LANCET • Vol 351 • April 25, 1998
plant Tabernanthe iboga is being studied for its benefits in withdrawal of opioids and other drugs. Psychedelics research is not exactly heading into the mainstream. But with such renewed interest comes the inherent move to value subjective experience as part of such studies—for me, a welcome relief to the reductionist approach of molecular psychiatry. Devereux’s “long trip” starts with his own experience of LSD on his 21st birthday, when he realises that what passes for “normal rational mentality is in fact the grossest of illusions”. Cynics and hardliners might suggest that his altered state has coloured the sense of his work from that time on, and that this book is a reflection of that process. Certainly, some of his arguments, such as the speculation that the vast ancient drawings and straight ways scattered across many landscapes could only have been planned by the “soul flight” that can accompany hallucinogenic states, seem far-fetched. But it is
Devereux’s consideration of the scientific and therapeutic issues that contains some challenging concepts, worthy at least of further consideration, rather than being sidelined by the mainstream. If you perceive Devereux’s ideas as inherently dangerous, as encouraging drug misuse, then reading this book is not likely to expand your mind. However, the book is no treatise advocating widespread use of psychedelic drugs. Indeed, Devereux points out that no-one in their right minds likes the human misery, street violence, and international organised crime associated with “hard” drugs. But, if the use of intoxicants has persisted for thousands of years, then is it likely that the desire for these substances will simply disappear? The rise of the rave scene and the popularity of Ecstasy (MDMA) surely argues against this. If a desire for altered states is as primal an urge as hunger or the sexual drive, and if such states—in the appropriate set and setting—can have benefits, then this has widespread social and political ramifications.
Kelly Morris The Lancet, London, UK
ms it was like his nerves were dipped in pickling vinegar piecemeal starting at the periphery and spotting in between and it was changing like a transforming request a sensory overload where some impulses make it some don’t and that’s the story of his numbness except that it felt like oatmeal drying on the skin only with oats you can see where the damage is they say that stress could have started it oh he could buy that story and have pocket change left over it was enough to deal with on its own merits this moth eating at the wool of his nerve endings and the perplexing uncertainty surrounding repair
Gotschna Deborah Jaffé
Harvey Ellis Mill Valley, California, USA
1295
The archaeology of ecstasy The Long Trip: A Prehistory of Psychedelia Paul Devereux. London: Penguin Press. 1998. Pp 298. £7·99. ISBN 0-14-019540-8 he exploration of psychedelic substances for “mindexpanding” purposes did not, as many assume, start with Timothy Leary’s plea to “Tune in, turn on, drop out”. Nor was the desire for trance states initiated by the writings of Aldous Huxley, William Burroughs, Allen Ginsberg, or their like. According to Paul Devereux, society has been on a “long trip” for thousands of years, with the use of psychoactive plants sanctioned for ritual, spiritual, or healing purposes. Devereux casts his eye over several threads of archaeological and ethnobotanical evidence that suggests widespread use of mind-altering substances through different ages and regions. For example, artefacts from Neolithic Europe seem likely to have been used for burning opium or cannabis—each in the correct set and setting capable of inducing ecstatic states. The peyote cactus Lophophora williamsii—used today by native Americans for ritual purposes—is depicted on tombs dating back to 100 BC. And did the red and white Father Christmas myth result from Siberian shamans’ use of fly agaric (Amanita muscaria), and his flying reindeer from those animals’ predilection for the same psychoactive mushrooms? Rock art from many different areas and tribes, suggests Devereux, includes imagery as seen through the eyes of those under the influence of hallucinogens. Certain abstract, geometric patterns—known as entoptic imagery—are universal to all trance states, however induced. These entoptic forms perhaps reflect the common circuitry of our perception-processing pathways? Many psychedelics researchers, says Devereux, propose that our minds’ internal construction of our world—our “reality”—is but one cognitive model of the many possible. Could further analytical research with such substances improve understanding of mind-brain functioning? Could we even see the social application of psychedelics as therapeutics to paradigm shift an individual’s consciousness? Ironically, it is substance misuse that has already been the target of such an approach. LSD and MDMA started life in the laboratory as potential psychiatric tools. More recently, ibogaine from the
T
THE LANCET • Vol 351 • April 25, 1998
plant Tabernanthe iboga is being studied for its benefits in withdrawal of opioids and other drugs. Psychedelics research is not exactly heading into the mainstream. But with such renewed interest comes the inherent move to value subjective experience as part of such studies—for me, a welcome relief to the reductionist approach of molecular psychiatry. Devereux’s “long trip” starts with his own experience of LSD on his 21st birthday, when he realises that what passes for “normal rational mentality is in fact the grossest of illusions”. Cynics and hardliners might suggest that his altered state has coloured the sense of his work from that time on, and that this book is a reflection of that process. Certainly, some of his arguments, such as the speculation that the vast ancient drawings and straight ways scattered across many landscapes could only have been planned by the “soul flight” that can accompany hallucinogenic states, seem far-fetched. But it is
Devereux’s consideration of the scientific and therapeutic issues that contains some challenging concepts, worthy at least of further consideration, rather than being sidelined by the mainstream. If you perceive Devereux’s ideas as inherently dangerous, as encouraging drug misuse, then reading this book is not likely to expand your mind. However, the book is no treatise advocating widespread use of psychedelic drugs. Indeed, Devereux points out that no-one in their right minds likes the human misery, street violence, and international organised crime associated with “hard” drugs. But, if the use of intoxicants has persisted for thousands of years, then is it likely that the desire for these substances will simply disappear? The rise of the rave scene and the popularity of Ecstasy (MDMA) surely argues against this. If a desire for altered states is as primal an urge as hunger or the sexual drive, and if such states—in the appropriate set and setting—can have benefits, then this has widespread social and political ramifications.
Kelly Morris The Lancet, London, UK
ms it was like his nerves were dipped in pickling vinegar piecemeal starting at the periphery and spotting in between and it was changing like a transforming request a sensory overload where some impulses make it some don’t and that’s the story of his numbness except that it felt like oatmeal drying on the skin only with oats you can see where the damage is they say that stress could have started it oh he could buy that story and have pocket change left over it was enough to deal with on its own merits this moth eating at the wool of his nerve endings and the perplexing uncertainty surrounding repair
Gotschna Deborah Jaffé
Harvey Ellis Mill Valley, California, USA
1295