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Mescalina. Storia globale della prima sostanza psichedelica
Quando i conquistadores incontrarono il peyote in Messico, lo considerarono solo un’altra bizzarria tribale: le popolazioni andine estraevano dal piccolo cactus una sostanza che usavano per i rituali, scatenando visioni mistiche di comunione con la natura e gli antenati. Ci vollero secoli perché l’Occidente lo decodificasse a suo modo, chimicamente: nel 1897 Arthur Heffter isolò l’alcaloide responsabile delle capacità psicotrope e allucinatorie del peyote. Era nata la mescalina. Da quel momento, le strade di peyote e mescalina si dividono: il cactus diventerà il simbolo di una resistenza secolare delle culture indigene alla modernizzazione; l’alcaloide sedurrà con la sua forza esperienziale un manipolo di pionieri spericolati, desiderosi di espandere i confini della mente. Quando poi nel 1954 Aldous Huxley pubblica Le porte della percezione, accogliendo le masse nel regno terribile e meraviglioso del trip psichedelico, si compie una vera rivoluzione percettiva: mescalina e poi LSD trasformano velocemente la cultura giovanile, circolando nei raduni hippie, nei concerti rock oceanici e nei party della Swingin’ London per un decennio, fino alla messa al bando nel 1970. Ma le porte della percezione, una volta aperte, non si possono richiudere. Mike Jay traccia la prima completa storia globale della Mescalina, unendo botanica, farmacologia, etnografia, letteratura e neuroscienza. Con sapienza intreccia le molte vite di questa sostanza che sedusse artisti e mistici, come Aleister Crowley, Carlos Castaneda e Antonin Artaud, ma anche intellettuali pensosi come Walter Benjamin e Jean-Paul Sartre. Ormai mitizzata dalla cultura pop, negli anni è stata descritta da alcuni come un veleno, usata da altri come un farmaco, considerata uno stimolo per la creatività e il piacere, un mezzo spirituale per connettersi con Dio. Se l’Occidente ha provato a strumentalizzarla in ogni modo, non è però mai riuscito a definirne con certezza il funzionamento. Così questa storia si apre e si chiude con i suoi luoghi d’origine, dove il peyote non è limitato alle proprietà psichedeliche ma accolto nei suoi aspetti diversi e spesso imprevedibili: un’essenza divina dal carattere affascinante e indomabile.
329 pages, Paperback
Published September 12, 2023
About the author
Mike Jay
17 books37 followersLibrarian note:
There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name
There is more than one author in the GoodReads database with this name
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews
December 25, 2019
Compendium of everything there is to know about this elusive psychedelic. It could have easily devolved into a reading list of “who tripped when and where” but Jay puts all mescaline subjects in good context of the science and culture of their time. Some enlightening stories emerge.
November 4, 2019
I've yet to read or watch anything on mescaline, San Pedro or peyote that gives such a deep look at everything from its chemistry to its history with Native Americans and white men. If you're looking to read up on this particular psychedelic compound or the plants they come from, Mike Jay's MESCALINE is the definitive book. Nothing else seems to compare.
January 14, 2021
Would have given 3.5 if possible. A decent job of research overall and some chapters and material done better and treated more usefully. But, often insufficiently explored or unpacked with an frequent overemphasis on unnecessary factoids that don't actually do anything to help the reader understand or contextualize what is being discussed. This book is at its best when it is richly descriptive and documentary, although that sits alongside a bunch of much thinner treatment. It is at its worst when the author's own personal analysis and opinions come through, which, thankfully, in this case, is less often than one might normally expect or desire. I did learn from this and found some useful leads, but there is still a lot more work and exposition to be done here.
March 30, 2021
Fascinating subject with lots of references. Nice!
March 21, 2020
SO CLOSE to being the book we needed... ...but falls just short. The half of the book dealing with centuries of sacred use of peyote by the native American tribes amidst the suffocating and cruel oppression of the US government is riveting. And the little known history of the doctors, collectors, artists, poets, priests, writers, socialites, philosophers, and pharmaceutical companies as they scrambled to profit in so many varied ways from the ingredient extracted from the peyote is fascinating and incredibly researched. Much mention is also rightly made of LSD as a rival to mescaline and the comparisons are fair.
Unfortunately, the book loses its way and resorts to useless filler as it rambles through the escapades of William Burroughs, Carlos Castaneda, and Hunter Thompson. Even the addition of a few pages on the brilliant and brave Alexander Shulgin are besides the point as it drifts into off-topic drug selections. Egregiously, the author makes nearly no mention of the far older and much more popular source of mescaline steeped in hundreds of more years of conflict between colonials and natives, the San Pedro cactuses of South America. So promising a text with an ultimately disappointing finish yet still an important and great resource for the parts it succeeds in.
Unfortunately, the book loses its way and resorts to useless filler as it rambles through the escapades of William Burroughs, Carlos Castaneda, and Hunter Thompson. Even the addition of a few pages on the brilliant and brave Alexander Shulgin are besides the point as it drifts into off-topic drug selections. Egregiously, the author makes nearly no mention of the far older and much more popular source of mescaline steeped in hundreds of more years of conflict between colonials and natives, the San Pedro cactuses of South America. So promising a text with an ultimately disappointing finish yet still an important and great resource for the parts it succeeds in.
December 12, 2019
I'm fast becoming a fan of Mike Jay's engagingly written micro-histories of drugs and psychedelics, and his newest is a fascinating exploration of mescaline, the psychoactive alkaloid of various cacti with a history both ancient and modern. From its role in ancient Peruvian and Mexican ritual use to its being the molecular grandfather to a host of ever-changing research chemicals, mescaline has done so much more than open the door to Aldous Huxley's perception. I was especially happy to learn more about Quanah Parker's efforts and the formation of the NAC from this book.
September 20, 2019
First book on psychedelics I've read that wasn't completely focused around the western cultural or scientific understanding.
February 8, 2023
Mike Jay is a wonderful person, a thoughtful and thorough historian. He takes an anthropological lens and has utmost respect for the cultural significance of peyote and San Pedro amongst indigenous peoples, and weaves its story with western forces/movements. The read is dense at times, but worth it for anyone interested in psychedelic history!
April 15, 2021
Such a fascinating read, first half on indigenous tradition was especially interesting and a perspective I haven’t read much about in previous readings on the history of psychedelics.
August 5, 2023
Super interesting. I learned a lot. I did find the organization of the material a little odd at times and sometimes a little repetitive, but generally very good.
June 27, 2024
"For others it has been a sacrament, a direct connection to the energies if nature, the world of spirits or the mind of God."
March 25, 2020
I love these sorts of deep dives into counter-culture/drug history. This book did not stray from the historical scholar approach, which is good by me. The author did a great job of taking us through time discussing religious use, research, counter-culture, and legislation. He didn't leave us without providing a bit of hope for the future...if you're into those sorts of things.
August 23, 2023
Interesting history of peyote and mescaline --- its roots in Native American culture, then its spread through other spaces: social parties, scientific research, pharmacological and psychiatric investigation, artists, and psychonaut drug culture. The contrast between peyote ceremonies built around full group experiences and pharmacoligical research trying to isolate to physical effects in a clinical room was a striking theme throughout.
I appreciated learning more about mescaline's history in relation to LSD and MDMA too --- the way it was essentially a precursor culturally and research-wise, including being tried first by both Hoffman and Shulgin.
The book itself was pretty difficult to read: the writing is dense, and the way the story is told feels like a dry history book more than a compelling narrative to follow.
I appreciated learning more about mescaline's history in relation to LSD and MDMA too --- the way it was essentially a precursor culturally and research-wise, including being tried first by both Hoffman and Shulgin.
The book itself was pretty difficult to read: the writing is dense, and the way the story is told feels like a dry history book more than a compelling narrative to follow.
March 17, 2019
Super fascinating and readable.
May 20, 2026
in lieu of proper review, here's what I wrote while coming down from my first experience with mescaline:
The Moon
3:00 AM. Six hours after ingesting 800mg of mescaline citrate. The earth feels like a sponge. I stumble barefoot through the dark. Cicadas scream. Frogs belch. I come to a clearing in the jungle. The moon hangs low, soon to disappear behind the shadowy palms and pines and cypresses. A bush rattles. I imagine an alligator dragging me into the pond, thinking ah, you got me as it bites into my neck and pulls me under. Hunter stands beside me, watching the stars. – “This is very intense,” he says. “The visuals are difficult to describe.” It’s still getting stronger. I don’t know how much more I can handle. The waning moon looks like the slanted eye of an immense predator cat—milk white—stalking me all night. An interdimensional rip in the blackness of space; a place of immense power. It was high in the sky back when I swallowed my four capsules by the fire. Back when my only concern was my forgotten Bluetooth speaker. Now I see faces in the passing clouds: wide-mouth husks, like a black metal album cover. I want to look away. I do a few times. The moon winks at me, more mischievous than malignant—more cartoonish. I unclench my teeth. I see jagged ice crystal mandalas form within its halo. Very primal. I understand the sacred role of the cosmic rhythms. Shit, am I about to become a moon worshiper? A honeycomb pattern overlays a portion of the sky, like cell membranes, alternating greens and yellows and blues. – “Damn. Pedro’s got me fucked up,” I say. “That Huxley dose is nothing to mess around with. The tiki spirits are coming out full force.” We both laugh. I tell him about the eye. He says that he kind of sees it, but wishes he hadn’t . . .
The Mouse
I sit up in bed, feet covered in dirt. Raw bug bites form blood-red constellations. My skin appears blue and green from the veins puckered beneath. Hunter sits in a cot across from me. – “Is this just, like, shitty drywall?” He says. “Because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.” I lean close to the wall. The uneven plaster forms sharp peaks and valleys. I fall back into my pillow and laugh. –“Bro, what if I messaged the HipCamp host and said: ‘sorry I pissed your bed. The Aztec glyphs inscribed in your ceiling are just too tantalizing?’” This one gets him. He laughs, hacking out his lungs as I go out on the porch and piss off the balcony. There’s a cramp in my bladder and I wonder what it would be like to pass a kidney stone while tripping. I lay back down on the bed. The ceiling is made of dried woven reeds. A bat chitters under the roofbeams and I imagine getting rabies from a bite in my sleep. The painting next to my bed is an animation. Figures move across the canvas. It’s a Japanese scene, given depth by lattices of glass. Travelers in the foreground descend a mountain trail—an immense, snow-covered valley below them. – “Ah!” Hunter yelps and jumps, causing me to jump. “Is that a fucking mouse!?” I see a shadow trail from the doorway to the kitchen. All of the eyes of the woodgrain floor scurry like rodents. – “Am I tripping?” Hunter says. “I swear that was a—” He jumps again, I jump again – “There he is! Definitely a mouse. We keep scaring each other. It’s so fucking fast! I guess it has to be. Its heart is beating, what, like a thousand times per minute? How long do they live? A year? Probably months someplace like this. Everything’s trying to kill it. It would be crazy if we had a cat. Your girlfriend’s brother still have all those kittens? I need to get a cat, bro . . .” I’m on guard for more jumping. I imagine a scenario where Hunter and I jump in unison every 30 seconds for the rest of the night. I still haven’t seen the mouse. I wish we had a sober person to confirm its existence. Too much nervous energy. We’re in its home. I think about leaving some bread on the floor in the kitchen so it leaves us alone. There were cockroaches on our bread earlier, so we moved it to the car. (“I desensitized myself to them at home when I saw one jump in my bathroom,” Hunter told me about cockroaches. “I could see its playful spirit.”) Hunter’s perked up in his cot. – “I was just staring right at it, bro. I have no idea where it keeps disappearing. The wall or something?” I ask him if he wants to go back out to the fire, which we’ve left unattended for an hour and a half. We make it to the front porch. – “Should we turn off the light?” Hunter asks. We forgot flashlights and have been trying to conserve the cabin’s solar battery so we don’t have to sit in the dark. I go back inside, grab my phone, and come back out. – “Uh, are you going to turn off the light?” – “Oh, yeah. My bad.” I go inside again . . .
The Moon
3:00 AM. Six hours after ingesting 800mg of mescaline citrate. The earth feels like a sponge. I stumble barefoot through the dark. Cicadas scream. Frogs belch. I come to a clearing in the jungle. The moon hangs low, soon to disappear behind the shadowy palms and pines and cypresses. A bush rattles. I imagine an alligator dragging me into the pond, thinking ah, you got me as it bites into my neck and pulls me under. Hunter stands beside me, watching the stars. – “This is very intense,” he says. “The visuals are difficult to describe.” It’s still getting stronger. I don’t know how much more I can handle. The waning moon looks like the slanted eye of an immense predator cat—milk white—stalking me all night. An interdimensional rip in the blackness of space; a place of immense power. It was high in the sky back when I swallowed my four capsules by the fire. Back when my only concern was my forgotten Bluetooth speaker. Now I see faces in the passing clouds: wide-mouth husks, like a black metal album cover. I want to look away. I do a few times. The moon winks at me, more mischievous than malignant—more cartoonish. I unclench my teeth. I see jagged ice crystal mandalas form within its halo. Very primal. I understand the sacred role of the cosmic rhythms. Shit, am I about to become a moon worshiper? A honeycomb pattern overlays a portion of the sky, like cell membranes, alternating greens and yellows and blues. – “Damn. Pedro’s got me fucked up,” I say. “That Huxley dose is nothing to mess around with. The tiki spirits are coming out full force.” We both laugh. I tell him about the eye. He says that he kind of sees it, but wishes he hadn’t . . .
The Mouse
I sit up in bed, feet covered in dirt. Raw bug bites form blood-red constellations. My skin appears blue and green from the veins puckered beneath. Hunter sits in a cot across from me. – “Is this just, like, shitty drywall?” He says. “Because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my life.” I lean close to the wall. The uneven plaster forms sharp peaks and valleys. I fall back into my pillow and laugh. –“Bro, what if I messaged the HipCamp host and said: ‘sorry I pissed your bed. The Aztec glyphs inscribed in your ceiling are just too tantalizing?’” This one gets him. He laughs, hacking out his lungs as I go out on the porch and piss off the balcony. There’s a cramp in my bladder and I wonder what it would be like to pass a kidney stone while tripping. I lay back down on the bed. The ceiling is made of dried woven reeds. A bat chitters under the roofbeams and I imagine getting rabies from a bite in my sleep. The painting next to my bed is an animation. Figures move across the canvas. It’s a Japanese scene, given depth by lattices of glass. Travelers in the foreground descend a mountain trail—an immense, snow-covered valley below them. – “Ah!” Hunter yelps and jumps, causing me to jump. “Is that a fucking mouse!?” I see a shadow trail from the doorway to the kitchen. All of the eyes of the woodgrain floor scurry like rodents. – “Am I tripping?” Hunter says. “I swear that was a—” He jumps again, I jump again – “There he is! Definitely a mouse. We keep scaring each other. It’s so fucking fast! I guess it has to be. Its heart is beating, what, like a thousand times per minute? How long do they live? A year? Probably months someplace like this. Everything’s trying to kill it. It would be crazy if we had a cat. Your girlfriend’s brother still have all those kittens? I need to get a cat, bro . . .” I’m on guard for more jumping. I imagine a scenario where Hunter and I jump in unison every 30 seconds for the rest of the night. I still haven’t seen the mouse. I wish we had a sober person to confirm its existence. Too much nervous energy. We’re in its home. I think about leaving some bread on the floor in the kitchen so it leaves us alone. There were cockroaches on our bread earlier, so we moved it to the car. (“I desensitized myself to them at home when I saw one jump in my bathroom,” Hunter told me about cockroaches. “I could see its playful spirit.”) Hunter’s perked up in his cot. – “I was just staring right at it, bro. I have no idea where it keeps disappearing. The wall or something?” I ask him if he wants to go back out to the fire, which we’ve left unattended for an hour and a half. We make it to the front porch. – “Should we turn off the light?” Hunter asks. We forgot flashlights and have been trying to conserve the cabin’s solar battery so we don’t have to sit in the dark. I go back inside, grab my phone, and come back out. – “Uh, are you going to turn off the light?” – “Oh, yeah. My bad.” I go inside again . . .
March 9, 2023
As a person who considers themselves a psychonaut, this book was deeply fascinating. Psilocybin and LSD frequently dominate the psychedelic scene (both in mainstream culture and scientific research) but Mescaline holds its own special power.
I loved that this book dug deep into the culture of Indigenous Peoples and their millennia long traditions with these sacred, mescaline producing plants. I was afraid this book would highlight white culture/perspective only, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn about the Tribes and Nations who have been cultivating and caring for these medicines since time immemorial.
Mescaline remains a powerful, yet elusive medicine. Mainly baked into Native American culture by way of the Native American Church, this substance is sacred and hard to come by in society—as it should be. These are more than just plants. They are portals into the very depths of our soul. I hope one day to be able to experience the magic mescaline for myself, should it find its way to me.
I loved that this book dug deep into the culture of Indigenous Peoples and their millennia long traditions with these sacred, mescaline producing plants. I was afraid this book would highlight white culture/perspective only, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn about the Tribes and Nations who have been cultivating and caring for these medicines since time immemorial.
Mescaline remains a powerful, yet elusive medicine. Mainly baked into Native American culture by way of the Native American Church, this substance is sacred and hard to come by in society—as it should be. These are more than just plants. They are portals into the very depths of our soul. I hope one day to be able to experience the magic mescaline for myself, should it find its way to me.
December 4, 2019
I really was excited for this book. It is a very well researched collection on the history, sociology, legality and psychology of uses of mescaline and analysis of why its popularity as a sacrament and substance waned against the more popular LSD and other psychedelics. Provides a strong framework to understand that while mescaline's popularity waned, its chemical derivatives are very important in the community today.
Still not much new for the those well versed in the world of mescaline and psychedelics. I wanted more investigative and comparative research into modern use, traditional uses, issues arising from peyote, san pedro cultivation and exploration into new research derivatives.
He has a deep personal interest in the topic and it shows but the book relies too much on Huxley's, Oswald's and other well known western.
It's great for those less familiar with mescaline and its importance - I was just expecting something new and revealing.
Still not much new for the those well versed in the world of mescaline and psychedelics. I wanted more investigative and comparative research into modern use, traditional uses, issues arising from peyote, san pedro cultivation and exploration into new research derivatives.
He has a deep personal interest in the topic and it shows but the book relies too much on Huxley's, Oswald's and other well known western.
It's great for those less familiar with mescaline and its importance - I was just expecting something new and revealing.
August 30, 2020
We truly live in the golden age of psychedelic litterateur. The essence and significance of LSD, ayahuasca, DMT have all been discussed and dissected, but mescaline and it’s flora have sadly been ignored, at least from my perspective. In A Global History of the First Psychedelic, Mike Jay presents an intriguing overview of the compound, from ancient days to present time. Without relying on glorified language or being to academic, the text is convincing without being preachy.
If you have any interest in mescaline, Mike Jay's book is a great introduction. Before delving into the academic or spiritual works, depending on what your looking for. Aldous Huxley's Doors of Perception would also be a good next step.
If you have any interest in mescaline, Mike Jay's book is a great introduction. Before delving into the academic or spiritual works, depending on what your looking for. Aldous Huxley's Doors of Perception would also be a good next step.
March 5, 2022
A very well-researched, comprehensive book that made the magic of the peyote ceremonies really come alive. Interesting, mystical, and respectfully written with regard to the importance of mescaline in Native American culture.
It was only let down by the author’s few spelling/grammatical errors and, at times, confusing and convoluted writing. A page of characters at the beginning would also not go amiss, as the book constantly introduces newer ones while referring back to older ones.
It was only let down by the author’s few spelling/grammatical errors and, at times, confusing and convoluted writing. A page of characters at the beginning would also not go amiss, as the book constantly introduces newer ones while referring back to older ones.
August 3, 2021
Very interesting approach to the history of psychedelics. Mike Jay did a great job by presenting the science, history and anthropological aspects. I really appreciate the mix, keeps the book interesting. Also important to remark the great job this book does going over the process by which drugs became illicit, and the whys. Great book!
December 30, 2022
As far as I know, this is the only comprehensive history of Mescaline, and in that regard it's a really great book. Especially the early chapters. The later parts of the book read more as a which European tripped where and when compendium which I didn't find as insightful.
February 5, 2023
3,5 very good but A LOT of information and names, sometimes used once but sometimes used at a later time without reference to earlier mentions. A fascinating subject with a rich history, but the book is not a pamphlet for using any of the substances described, which is refreshing.
December 15, 2025
Great informative book. This fills in the gap between ancient traditional healing medicines and the Psychedelic revolution of the 60's and 70's. The Psychedelic revolution was really sparked by mescaline.
May 6, 2021
A pretty good overview of the cultural and scientific history of Mescaline that has some errors and in other places it needs to be longer (ie, Shulgin is essentially only near the last pages).
February 22, 2022
Best book about the history of psychedelics I have read. No bullshit.
December 21, 2022
Nothing different than the previous books I've read pertaining to the same topic. Good read though
January 17, 2025
Interesting. Well researched and comprehensive. I wanted to know about Mescaline and now I do.
November 26, 2025
A very necessary history of the (and my) first psychedelic. Dense. Some parts were more compelling, other parts I had to push through without fully absorbing. It definitely helps to have other background knowledge on psychedelic history. The images were nice, and I would have liked more throughout of the people being discussed. Also feels like a lot of commas were missing and that kind of made me pause every time I read a sentence like that.
June 29, 2025
solid 4 stars; excellent work, a lot of background information and attention is given to the broad cultural relevance and impact of psychedelics, in particular to the literary and art scene; would have liked to see some more hardcore scientific data as to the chemical structures of this type of active substances, and how these effects on the brain are achieved.
September 24, 2022
Meskalin historisch, kulturell und wissenschaftlich ausgearbeitet. Eine sehr spannende Substanz.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 31 reviews