Most people know Jack London from such books as Call of the Wild or White Fang. London was also a Socialist and attempted to motivate public opinion to correct social ills, uplift the poor and champion the working class in such books as People of the Abyss. For the last book, London went undercover in the notorious East End of London, where the poorest of the poor lived. If you can read this book and remained unmoved about the vileness of unfettered capitalism, you are a stronger person than I.
John Barleycorn or Alcoholic Memoirs is a very interesting book to read. For someone like myself who knows more than a few folks who have shipwrecked their lives on one or both of the conjoined reefs of depression and addiction, it is also a very hard book to read. London’s goal in writing this book was as a warning to generations coming after him on the dangers of John Barleycorn aka alcohol.
There is some controversy over how Jack London died. The immediate cause was an overdose of morphine. Whether it was accidentally or purposeful is the controversy. What is not at controversy was that he was in the late stages alcoholism. He was also suffering from various diseases picked up in his travels.
Perhaps one of the most telling of passages in the book is the beginning of chapter one:
It all came to me one election day. It was on a warm California afternoon, and I had ridden down into the Valley of the Moon from the ranch to the little village to vote Yes and No to a host of proposed amendments to the Constitution of the State of California. Because of the warmth of the day I had had several drinks before casting my ballot, and divers drinks after casting it. Then I had ridden up through the vine-clad hills and rolling pastures of the ranch, and arrived at the farm-house in time for another drink and supper.
“How did you vote on the suffrage amendment?” Charmian asked.
“I voted for it.”
She uttered an exclamation of surprise. For, be it known, in my younger days, despite my ardent democracy, I had been opposed to woman suffrage. In my later and more tolerant years I had been unenthusiastic in my acceptance of it as an inevitable social phenomenon.
“Now just why did you vote for it?” Charmian asked.
I answered. I answered at length. I answered indignantly. The more I answered, the more indignant I became. (No; I was not drunk. The horse I had ridden was well named “The Outlaw.” I’d like to see any drunken man ride her.)
And yet—how shall I say?—I was lighted up, I was feeling “good,” I was pleasantly jingled.
“When the women get the ballot, they will vote for prohibition,” I said. “It is the wives, and sisters, and mothers, and they only, who will drive the nails into the coffin of John Barleycorn——”
“But I thought you were a friend to John Barleycorn,” Charmian interpolated.
“I am. I was. I am not. I never am. I am never less his friend than when he is with me and when I seem most his friend. He is the king of liars. He is the frankest truthsayer. He is the august companion with whom one walks with the gods. He is also in league with the Noseless One. His way leads to truth naked, and to death. He gives clear vision, and muddy dreams. He is the enemy of life, and the teacher of wisdom beyond life’s wisdom. He is a red-handed killer, and he slays youth.”
And Charmian looked at me, and I knew she wondered where I had got it.
His main reason for voting for women’s suffrage is that they would usher in prohibition. This is a continual theme throughout the book, the need for prohibition. London died young, at the age of 40, in 1916, so he never saw the disaster that was prohibition.
London is obviously a born storyteller. He painted such a vivid image of the San Francisco waterfront of the late 1800s that I really felt I been there at that time. He spent many pages on the period of his life from 15 to 20 as he believed this to be where the seed of alcoholism was planted. He laments the easy access to alcohol due to the many saloons in the area and tradition of “manliness” associated with alcohol.
London is quite frank in discussing his alcoholism and its progression. It traces its roots to the immediate companionship with other males that it enabled. Unfortunately, his mentors in the world of John Barleycorn were that type that drunk to excess, often to the point of passing out wherever they were at. I suppose AAers would say he was in denial in some ways about his alcoholism even in retrospect. He continually speaks to how he disliked the taste of alcohol and only drank because others were drinking. It was the socially polite thing to do! He also talks about the long periods he went without taking a drink. He never really saw himself as “true” alcoholic until later in life when he more or less drank round the clock.
It is a very sad tale in many ways. Here is an individual that pulled himself up from poverty to become wealthier than ever he dreamt. He was mostly self-educated, yet had a wide breadth of knowledge. It can be argued that he surrendered to alcoholism after he had “made it”. One only has to wonder what else London could have given us had he not self-destructed at such a young age.
This book is in the public domain and can be downloaded for free.
Audio book from LibriVox.org : John Barleycorn or Alcoholic Memoirs
e-Book from Gutenberg.org: John Barleycorn or Alcoholic Memoirs