Opiates have long held a fascination for me. Maybe it's because of the movie From Hell, which I saw at a young, impressionable age, in which Johnny Depp's character disappears for days into opium dens. It's not necessarily his finest hour in terms of acting, but I remember the scene of him emerging from the den: groggy, irresistibly handsome, and as though he has been to some place beyond the comprehension of mere mortals.
In Crimes horticoles, the protagonist's mother drinks poppy tea every morning, and the book describes at length how she prepares it, as well as its effects. The mother drinks it herself, but also serves it to her clients as a way to ensure customer loyalty: they can't stop coming to her if they're addicted. It's actually a pretty good step-by-step guide, talking about the types and the parts of flower to use, when to harvest, etc. I would be tempted to try it were it not for the life-eating reputation that opiates have, reiterated by the protagonist: "Liam tells me never to drink this tea."
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