The Physiology of Taste by Brillat Savarin (bearly read books txt) 📖

thank you to pass me the

English peas. When young they are food fit for the gods.

 

I?—Anathema on beans and peas.

 

OBESE.—Bah, for your anathema; you talk as if you were a whole

council. I.—(To another.) I congratulate you on your good health,

it seems to me that you have fattened somewhat, since I last saw

you.

 

OBESE.—I probably owe it to a change of diet.

 

I.—How so?

 

OBESE.—For some time I eat a rich soup for breakfast, and so

thick that the spoon would stand up in it.

 

I.—(To another.) Madame, if I do not mistake, you will accept a

portion of this charlotte? I will attack it.

 

OBESE.—No, sir. I have two things which I prefer. This gateau of

rice and that Savoy biscuit—I am very fond of sweet things.

 

I.—While they talk politics, madame, at the other end of the

table, will you take a piece of this tourte a la frangipane?

 

OBESE.—Yes; I like nothing better than pastry. We have a pastry-cook in our house as a lodger, and I think my daughter and I eat

up all his rent.

 

I.—(Looking at the daughter.) You both are benefitted by the

diet. Your daughter is a fine looking young woman.

 

OBESE LADY.—Yes; but there are persons who say she is too fat.

 

I.—Ah! those who do so are envious, etc., etc. By this and

similar conversations I elucidate a theory I have formed about the

human race, viz: Greasy corpulence always has, as its first cause,

a diet with too much farinacious or feculent substance. I am sure

the same regime will always have the same effect. Carniverous

animals never become fat. One has only to look at the wolf,

jackal, lion, eagle, etc.

 

Herbiverous animals do not either become fat until age has made

repose a necessity. They, however, fatten quickly when fed on

potatoes, farinacious grain, etc.

 

Obesity is rarely met with among savage nations, or in that class

of persons who eat to live, instead of living to eat.

 

CAUSES OF OBESITY.

 

From the preceding observation, the causes of which any one may

verify, it is easy to ascertain the principle causes of obesity.

 

The first is the nature of the individual. Almost all men are born

with predispositions, the impress of which is borne by their

faces. Of every hundred persons who die of diseases of the chest,

ninety have dark hair, long faces and sharp noses. Of every

hundred obese persons, ninety have short faces, blue eyes, and pug

noses.

 

Then there are beyond doubt persons predestined to obesity, the

digestive powers of whom elaborate a great quantity of grease.

 

This physical fact, of the truth of which I am fully satisfied,

exerts a most important influence on our manner of looking at

things.

 

When we meet in society, a short, fat, rosy, short-nosed

individual, with round limbs, short feet, etc., all pronounce her

charming. Better informed than others, however, I anticipate the

ravages which ten years will have effected on her, and sigh over

evils which as yet do not exist. This anticipated compassion is a

painful sentiment, and proves that a prescience of the future

would only make man more unhappy.

 

The second of the causes of obesity, is the fact that farinacious

and feculaferous matter is the basis of our daily food. We have

already said that all animals that live on farinaceous substances

become fat; man obeys the common law.

 

The fecula is more prompt in its action when it is mingled with

sugar. Sugar and grease are alike in containing large quantities

of hydrogen, and are both inflammable. This combination is the

more powerful, from the fact that it flatters the taste, and that

we never eat sweet things until the appetite is already satisfied,

so that we are forced to court the luxury of eating by every

refinement of temptation.

 

The fecula is not less fattening when in solution, as in beer, and

other drinks of the same kind. The nations who indulge the most in

them, are those who have the most huge stomachs. Some Parisian

families who in 1817 drank beer habitually, because of the

dearness of wine, were rewarded by a degree of embonpoint, they

would be glad to get rid of.

 

SEQUEL.

 

Another cause of obesity is found in the prolongation of sleep,

and want of exercise. The human body repairs itself much during

sleep, and at the same time loses nothing, because muscular action

is entirely suspended. The acquired superfluity must then be

evaporated by exercise.

 

Another consequence is, that persons who sleep soundly, always

refuse every thing that looks the least like fatigue. The excess

of assimilation is then borne away by the torrent of circulation.

It takes possession, by a process, the secret of which nature has

reserved to herself, of some hundredths of hydrogen, and fat is

formed to be deposited in the tubes of the cellular tissue.

 

SEQUEL.

 

The last cause of obesity is excess of eating and drinking.

 

There was justice in the assertion, that one of the privileges of

the human race is to eat without hunger, and drink without thirst.

Animals cannot have it, for it arises from reflection on the

pleasures of the table, and a desire to prolong its duration.

 

This double passion has been found wherever man exists. We know

savages eat to the very acme of brutality, whenever they have an

opportunity.

 

Cosmopolites, as citizens of two hemispheres, we fancy ourselves

at the very apogee of civilization, yet we are sure we eat too

much.

 

This is not the case with the few, who from avarice or want of

power, live alone. The first are delighted at the idea that they

amass money, and others distressed that they do not. It is the

case, however, with those around us, for all, whether hosts or

guests, offer and accept with complaisance.

 

This cause, almost always present, acts differently, according to

the constitution of individuals; and in those who have badly

organized stomachs, produces indigestion, but not obesity.

 

ANECDOTE.

 

This one instance, which all Paris will remember.

 

M. Lang had one of the most splendid establishments of the

capital; his table especially, was excellent, but his digestion

was bad as his gourmandise was great. He did the honors with

perfect taste, and ate with a resolution worthy of a better fate.

 

All used to go on very well, till coffee was introduced, but the

stomach soon refused the labor to which it had been subjected, and

the unfortunate gastronomer was forced to throw himself on the

sofa and remain in agony until the next day, in expiation of the

brief pleasure he had enjoyed.

 

It is very strange that he never corrected this fault: as long as

he lived, he was subjected to this alternative, yet the sufferings

of the evening never had any influence on the next days’ meal.

 

Persons with active digestion, fare as was described in the

preceding article. All is digested, and what is not needed for

nutrition is fixed and turned into fat.

 

Others have a perpetual indigestion, and food is passed without

having left any nourishment. Those who do not understand the

matter, are amazed that so many good things do not produce a

better effect.

 

It may be seen that I do not go very minutely into the matter, for

from our habits many secondary causes arise, due to our habits,

condition, inclinations, pleasures, etc.

 

I leave all this to the successor I pointed out in the

commencement of this work, and satisfy myself merely with the

prelibation, the right of the first comer to every sacrifice.

 

Intemperance has long attracted the attention of observers.

Princes have made sumptuary laws, religion has moralized for

gourmandise, but, alas, a mouthfull less was never eaten, and the

best of eating every day becomes more flourishing.

 

I would perhaps be fortunate in the adoption of a new course, and

in the exposition of the physical causes of obesity. Self-preservation would perhaps be more powerful than morals, or

persuasive than reason, have more influence than laws, and I think

the fair sex would open their eyes to the light.

 

INCONVENIENCE OF OBESITY.

 

Obesity has a lamentable influence on the two sexes, inasmuch as

it is most injurious to strength and beauty.

 

It lessens strength because it increases the weight to be moved,

while the motive power is unchanged. It injures respiration, and

makes all labor requiring prolonged muscular power impossible.

 

Obesity destroys beauty by annihilating the harmony of primitive

proportions, for all the limbs do not proportionately fatten.

 

It destroys beauty by filling up cavities nature’s hand itself

designed.

 

Nothing is so common as to see faces, once very interesting, made

common-place by obesity.

 

The head of the last government did not escape this law. Towards

the latter portion of his life, he (Napoleon) became bloated, and

his eyes lost a great portion of their expression.

 

Obesity produces a distaste for dancing, walking, riding, and an

inaptitude for those amusements which require skill or agility.

 

It also creates a disposition to certain diseases, such as

apoplexy, dropsy, ulcers in the legs, and makes all diseases

difficult to cure.

 

EXAMPLES OF OBESITY.

 

I can remember no corpulent heroes except Marius and John

Sobieski.

 

Marius was short, and was about as broad as he was long. That

probably frightened the Cimber who was about to kill him.

 

The obesity of the King of Poland had nearly been fatal to him,

for having stumbled on a squadron of Turkish cavalry, from which

he had to fly, he would certainly have been massacred, if his aids

had not sustained him, almost fainting from fatigue on his horse,

while others generously sacrificed themselves to protect him.

 

If I am not mistaken, the Duc de Vendome, a worthy son of Henry

IV., was also very corpulent. He died at an inn, deserted by all,

and preserved consciousness just long enough to see a servant

snatch away a pillow on which his head was resting.

 

There are many instances of remarkable obesity. I will only speak,

however, of my own observations.

 

M. Rameau, a fellow student of mine and maire of Chaleur, was

about five feet two inches high, but weighed five hundred pounds.

 

The Duc de Luynes, beside whom I often sat, became enormous. Fat

had effaced his handsome features, and he slept away the best

portion of his life.

 

The most remarkable case, though, I saw in New York, and many

persons now in Paris will remember to have seen at the door of a

cafe in Broadway, a person seated in an immense arm-chair, with

legs stout enough to have sustained a church. [Footnote: Many

persons in New York remember the person referred to. The

translator has heard, that as late as 1815, he was frequently to

be seen at the door of a house near where the Atheneum Hotel was.

Brillat Savarin is said scarcely to exaggerate.]

 

Edward was at least five feet ten inches, and was about eight feet

(French) in circumference. His fingers were like those of the

Roman Emperor, who used to wear his wife’s bracelets as rings. His

arms and legs were nearly as thick as the waist of a man of medium

size, and his feet were elephantine, covered by fat pendant from

his legs. The fat on his cheek had weighed down his lower eye-lid,

and three hanging chins made his face horrible to behold.

 

He passed his life near a window, which looked out on the street

and drank from time to time a glass of