ONE COMFORTABLE fact gleaned from travel in far countries was that regardless of race, creed or inner metabolisms, mankind has always created varying forms of stimulant liquid—each after his own kind. Prohibitions and nations and kings depart, but origin of such pleasant fluid finds constant source. Fermentation and the art of distilling liquors over heat became good form about the time our hairy forefathers began sketching mastodon and sabretooth tiger on their cave foyers. Elixir of fruit juice, crushed root and golden honey date back to the dawn of time and far beyond the written word, to when the old gods were young and stalked abroad upon business with goddesses, when Pan piped the dark forest aisles and Centaurs pawed belly deep in fern. The Phoenicians, the Pharaohs, the first agrarian Chinese, all ancient races on earth buried jars of wine or spirits with their dead alongside the money and food and weapons and wives, so the departed might find reasonable comfort and happiness in the hereafter. Go to Africa and the poorest Kaffir cheers life with—and for all of us he can have it—warm millet beer. We just returned from Mexico and can affirm that our Yucatecan most certainly ripped the bud out of his Agave Americana and drank the fermented pulque—a fluid which tastes faintly like mildewed donkeys—centuries before Montezuma’s parents journeyed southward to the Valley of Cortez. We found additional evidence after three voyages to Zamboanga in Philippine Mindanao—where the monkeys have no tails—that the more agile Moro shinnied up his cocopalm and slashed the flower bud with his bolo; caught the saccharine drip—and an astounding menagerie of assorted squirt-ants—in a fermentation joint of bamboo, long before the Spanish Inquisition or Admiral Dewey steamed into Manila Bay. In Samoa the loveliest tribal virgin chews the kava root for the ceremonial bowl when your yacht sails into her lagoon, and the resultant fluid furnishes a sure ticket to amiable paralysis of the lower limbs. China and Japan have for centuries had their rice wine and saki. The Russian made his vodka from cereals, the blond Saxon his honey mead, the Hawaiian his okolehao from roots or fruits. We’ve been often to the Holy Land and have flown across to Transjordania and the rose-red city of Petra, and can bear witness that those grapes Moses the Lawgiver found in the Promised Land weren’t all of a type suitable for raisins. To any reasonable mind this past and present testimony of mankind through the ages would indicate that some sort of fluid routine will continue for many centuries to come. With adventurers like Marco Polo, Columbus, Tavernier and Magellan, there was a vast national introduction and interchange of beverages. For better or worse both conquistador and native sampled, discarded or adapted an incredible addition of liquid blends and formulae. Through rigour or amiability of climate, through physical, racial and psychological characteristics of the individuals themselves, from the cocoon of this pristine field work there emerged an equally incredible list of drinks—mixed or otherwise—which for one reason or another have stood the test of time and taste and gradually have become set in form. They have become traditional, accepted in ethical social intercourse. And it is with the more civilized family of these that we are concerned in this volume; not the pulques and warm mealie beer or fermented Thibetan yak milk.

In 1834, Anne Lister made history by celebrating and recording the first ever known marriage to another woman. Now the basis for the HBO series Gentleman Jack, this is her remarkable, true story. Anne Lister was extraordinary. Fearless, charismatic and determined to explore her lesbian sexuality, she forged her own path in a society that had no language to define her. She was a landowner, an industrialist and a prolific diarist, whose output has secured her legacy as one of the most fascinating figures of the 19th century. Gentleman Jack: The Real Anne Lister follows Anne from her crumbling ancestral home in Yorkshire to the glittering courts of Denmark as she resolves to put past heartbreak behind her and find herself a wife. This book introduces the real Gentleman Jack, featuring unpublished journal extracts decrypted for the first time by series creator Sally Wainwright and writer Anne Choma.

Buddy Wakefield’s third book, Gentleman Practice, documents the figurative contents of a man’s body attempting to stand firm in the presence of all that is. It’s a poetry book, from the perspective of a journal entry in the National Archives. The National Archives live in a building in Seattle behind barbed wire, directly next door to the Center for Spiritual Living. This is no accident. Gentleman Practice is a disarming de-haunting of accidents. There are no stunt doubles performing the honesty in this book. Head raised and victorious, he has crafted a translation of the human spirit on a small, practical patch, with a very fine tooth indeed. And, while many poetry books read like a thick epic series of sections, Gentleman Practice will no doubt rest in your hands like a well-oiled novel.

Charles Baker traveled the world in search of exotic food and drink in addition to interesting people with whom he could share them. Both drink travelogue and cookbook, The Gentleman's Companion is the summation of Baker's culinary and drinking experiences abroad. Baker accents his tales of high adventure with recipes for foods and cocktails that were considered unusual specimens in the 1920s and 30s. Baker, a captivating storyteller, wrote about food and drink for a number of well-known magazines. In this travelogue he relates how notorious figures, including Hemmingway and Faulkner, numbered among his drinking companions. At once a culinary guidebook and haughty memoir, The Gentleman's Companion, initially published in 1939, provides a one-of-a-kind glimpse into the bombastic and glamorous world of travel in the mid-twentieth century. This edition combines both volumes of the original work: The Exotic Cookery Book and The Exotic Drinking Book.

A Kirkus Prize nominee and Stonewall Honor winner with 5 starred reviews! A New York Times bestseller! Named one of the best books of 2017 by NPR and the New York Public Library! "The queer teen historical you didn’t know was missing from your life.”—Teen Vogue "A stunning powerhouse of a story."—School Library Journal "A gleeful romp through history."—ALA Booklist A young bisexual British lord embarks on an unforgettable Grand Tour of Europe with his best friend/secret crush. An 18th-century romantic adventure for the modern age written by This Monstrous Thing author Mackenzi Lee—Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda meets the 1700s. Henry “Monty” Montague doesn’t care that his roguish passions are far from suitable for the gentleman he was born to be. But as Monty embarks on his grand tour of Europe, his quests for pleasure and vice are in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. So Monty vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores. Witty, dazzling, and intriguing at every turn, The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue is an irresistible romp that explores the undeniably fine lines between friendship and love. Don't miss Felicity's adventures in The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy, the highly anticipated sequel!