On Tea in Literature

Tea is a treasured part of my life: tea itself, teacups, tea trays, tea parties, afternoon tea, hotel teas, tearooms, long talks over tea. Some of my favorite novels - by Jane Austen, Henry James, Barbara Pym, Angela Thirkell, Dorothy Sayers - have scenes featuring tea. So I was struck by the regular meetings for tea - what was called "sacred tea" - in the novel "The Elegance of the Hedgehog," by Muriel Barbery (which I wrote about in yesterday's post). Here is a passage about tea from the book:

"The tea ritual: such a precise repetition of the same gestures and the same tastes; accession to simple, authentic and refined sensations, a license given to all, at little cost, to become aristocrats of taste, because tea is the beverage of the wealthy and of the poor; the tea ritual, therefore, has the extraordinary virtue of introducing into the absurdity of our lives an aperture of serene harmony. Yes, the world may aspire to vacuousness, lost souls mourn beauty, insignificance surrounds us. Then let us drink a cup of tea. Silence descends, one hears the wind outside, autumn leaves rustle and take flight, the cat sleeps in a warm pool of light. And, with each swallow, time is sublimed" (p. 91).