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Former smoker documents his addiction with empathy
Nicotine by Gregor Hens, introduction by Will Self c.2017, Other Press $16.95/$22.99 Canada 208 pages You’re always careful to set your butt down in the right spot. That’s because you’re quite aware that others would prefer not to see your butt, or anyone else’s, so you mash yours down and dispose of it properly before you go back inside and go to work. That’s the way it goes these days, and in Nicotine by Gregor Hens, you’ll hear of this and other things from a former smoker. One hundred thousand cigarettes –that’s how many Gregor Hens estimates he’s smoked in his lifetime, “and each one of those cigarettes meant something to me.” He didn’t necessarily enjoy them all – but each one “served a purpose.” He doesn’t smoke today, but then, “Every cigarette I’ve ever smoked was a good cigarette.” Smoking was somewhat of a legacy. Memories of Hens’ grandfather are wrapped in the smoke of the cigars he consumed. Hens’ Aunt Anna worked at a German cigarette factory; as part of her retirement bonus, her family receives two cartons of cigarettes, delivered by courier each week for the next half-century, even though she died years ago. Hens’ father smoked, but quit cold-turkey one day. Even Hens’ mother smoked; in fact, she was the first person to hand him a lit cigarette, urging him to “take a drag on it.” Without a doubt, Hens, an asthmatic, knew the risks of smoking. He had to “get (the) addiction under control” because he knew, statistically, the more often he tried, the more likely he was to fail at subsequent attempts to quit. Once he quit, he missed tobacco so much that he eagerly walked through a phalanx of smokers, despite being afraid that it might lead to relapse. He took a cigarette apart, to determine its power: inside, there was less than a gram of “tobacco content.” The filter, a “cork-brown” finely-holed paper mouthpiece, was designed to “breathe and smoke simultaneously.” He threw away the wrecked object of his addiction. Hens says “the old hunger ambushes” him still, but his lungs have healed from the past and he’s determined to remain a non-smoker. “I listened to myself,” he says, “and made a decision.” Let’s start here: There’s nothing even remotely resembling a how-to inside Nicotine. It doesn’t contain advice or anything step-by-step, no “oughtas” or must-dos. Still, if you’re struggling with quitting smoking, you might find this book oddly comforting. That’s because author Gregor Hens has been there – hundreds of times, to paraphrase Mark Twain – and he writes with raw honesty about that with which he wrestles, even now, long after he gave up his smokes. There’s a touch of humor here, but most of this book is serious and thoughtful; readers, in fact, who study the chapter in which Hens bums a smoke and disassembles it will never forget that emotional battle. Certainly, this is a book for future quitters and former smokers, but loved ones who don’t light up will likewise get plenty out of this book. There’s no overt advice inside Nicotine, but it could help – no butts about it. Terri Schlichenmeyer has been reading since she was three years old and never goes anywhere without a book. She lives on a hill in Wisconsin with two dogs and 14,000 books. Readers with questions or comments may write to Terri in care of this publication.
5/18/2017