In The Search for Real Absinthe, Jacob Sullum explains that, “like Tinkerbell, the Green Fairy lives only if we believe in her”:
Like many liqueurs, absinthe, first produced commercially in 1798, was originally a tonic, building on millennia of wormwood’s use as a medicine. Like marijuana in the 1960s, absinthe became an emblem of avant-garde creativity. Like marijuana in the 1930s, it was said to drive people mad. Adams reports that “it became popular to order absinthe under the nickname ‘un train direct’ or ‘une correspondance,’ from the phrase ‘train direct à Charenton’ or ‘correspondance à Charenton’: a fast route to the madhouse.’”Now as then, absinthe’s appeal is based largely on its notoriety. And just as pot would lose its countercultural cachet if it were sold by Philip Morris, absinthe is not the same when it is no longer prohibited. This year, a century after a Swiss vineyard worker triggered absinthe bans across Europe by murdering his wife and children while under the influence of the Green Fairy (along with copious amounts of wine and brandy), absinthe containing up to 35 milligrams of thujone per liter became legal again in Switzerland, where the drink was invented. Some connoisseurs are dismayed to see absinthe go legit. “I want to preserve the myth that comes with keeping absinthe forbidden,” one told The New York Times last fall. “The myth is the thrill of breaking the law and not getting caught.”