Preoccupations of an earlier time still with us

Pills & Potions at the Cotter Medical History Trust, by Claire le Couteur. Otago University Press, 2014. RRP $25. Reviewed by Vicki Hyde.

I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or wince as I paged through this inviting wee volume. We're not that far away from the days of liver pills, iron tonics and syrup of figs - I'm sure I've seen very similar products gracing the shelves of my local pharmacy, and certainly the enthusiastically dubious claims made for such products 100 years ago could have come straight off current packaging in the health food shops today.

Claire, a former long-serving secretary for the NZ Skeptics, has worked her way through popular remedies from the 19th and early 20th centuries housed by the Cotter Medical History Trust in Christchurch.

I quite like the sound of 'Wahoo', a tonic for indigestion and piles and confess to being amused by its somewhat honest labelling which lists some of the "healing balsams and vegetable demulcents and expectorants" it contains, finishing with "and some other drugs we won't tell you about". I know of suppliers out of China who could validly put that on their product labels these days…

Claire has not only given us a salutary lesson in plus ça change, but has also shone a light on the preoccupations of an earlier time.

Perhaps not surprisingly, we see assistance offered for what's often termed "the usual suspects" - those ailments which come and go and for which there are no easy treatments, making sufferers vulnerable to the blandishments of the latest snake-oil salesman. Thus conditions like arthritis, rheumatism, insomnia and fatigue pop up frequently, teamed up with catch-terms like "invigorates", "stimulates", "tones" and "cleanses".

Many of the tricks and techniques used in the advertising claims have a certain degree of familiarity, even if couched in the language of an earlier time:

  • a secret "preserved in the family for several ages";
  • supported by "years of arduous scientific researches and experiments";
  • "precludes all possibility of the Hair Falling Off";
  • endorsements from Hollywood stars, the Canadian Mounties and a "well-known sheep farmer from Buenos Aires".

Back in 1904, the government of the time became concerned by the outrageous claims and attempted to require a clear ingredients list for each products. The measure failed largely due to "vociferous protest" by the vested interest of manufacturers and newspaper owners. Sound familiar?

Give this book to any family hypochondriac, along with a packet of jellybeans - the latter will help them medicate themselves through the pages, and provide just as much relief as most of these pills and potions would have had.