Wild Beers and the Evolution of Religion

Today I was reading in Hank Shaw’s always entertaining Hunt Gather Cook Facebook group and came across a post where Hank himself described his wild homebrew saison wort as the wee yeasties. Now, if there is a more Scottish description of the requisite organisms for fermentation I dinnae ken what that would be. As such, I had to compose a short poem there on the spot:

Wee Yeasty Beasties
Fermenting a' tha day
Serenaded by the Pibroch
While the leal folk
Think on their deadly thirst
And labor on the hay

It is pretty evocative for such a short and unpolished piece. So much so, that I was brought back to the imagery of the hayfield. Now, I’m not talking about the Oklahoma hayfield where the sun crisps you like a pork rind, but rather those romantic hayfields captured in so much fine artwork. What, you don’t believe me? Have a look for yourself. The depictions of country life don’t fall short on the harsh reality of agricultural employment, but they do soften the edges. I wouldn’t mind working in many of those fields, given that it was September or October and I could quit after about 30 minutes.

Though not Scottish, Ralph McTell’s The Girl from the Hiring Fair is also appropriate here. It is a work of poetry itself: enchanting, pastoral, and evocative of those blessed summer nights when the back-breaking labor is done and there is time for the craic. McTell’s word-smithing is genius throughout the song, but to me it is at its finest here:

And I swung harder with my scythe, few words between us passed,
And I cursed my tongue-tied youthfulness and I hoped that she'd hear my heart.

Luckily for McTell’s strapping mower, his subdued romantic inclinations do not go unnoticed.

She was safely gathered in my arms when from the barn
Drifted the sound of a violin and we hurried back to the farm,
And all were dancing in the lantern light and music filled the air,
And I thanked my stars for the harvest moon and the girl from the hiring fair.

Here we have the full circle. The laborer’s toils end with dancing and most certainly (though implicitly) a celebratory brew. It seems unimportant, but that act was been repeated through generation-upon-generation. So much in fact, that alcoholic beverages and the grains that they were made from (embodied by Robert Burns’ John Barleycorn) became central elements in the rituals of numerous religions as symbols of life and fertility. In his master-work, The Golden Bough, Sir James Frazier documents the widespread worship various of deities (Virbius, Jupiter, Dianus, Janus, Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Dionysus, Bacchus, Persephone) as the embodiment of agricultural fertility. Oversimplified, The Golden Bough connects the founding of nearly all world religions to three basic functions: (1) ensure that the vegetation and crops regrow every year, (2) ensure that the livestock multiplies, and (3) ensure that the rains fall.

That’s something heady to think about the next time you enjoy your favorite craft brew. Perhaps you’ll even decide to try your hand seeing what magic lies in the plants, yeasts, and world around us.