Toad Licking is a (Deathly) Thing: A Psychedelic Throwback to the 1970s.

WARNING: Spoilers Ahead for Sunrise on the Reaping (though no plot revelations)

Perhaps no other character in Sunrise has raised more eyebrows in disgust than the repulsive Magno Stift. Making his shocking entrance as District 12’s stylist, Haymitch describes his sun-leathered skin tattooed with a snakeskin pattern, sandals laced all the way to his pelvis, and tiny garter snakes dangling from his ears (71). In this way we get the sense that one of Collins’ crazy characters has finally managed to out-Capitol the Capitol. Even the wearing of live reptiles has been banned, Drusilla tells us, though Magno just brushes this off. Then later, it gets worse. When Prosperina seeks him out at his apartment to prepare for the tribute interviews, she finds him “reeling around” and “puking all over the place” while talking like a crazy person (168). Upon her return, a horrified Prosperina considers that the “toad venom rumors might be true!” Drusilla snaps back with, “Rumors? That man’s been licking toads since the war. I can’t believe that even he would risk it during the Games.” Then Wyatt asks the obvious question: “Why would he lick toads?” Drusilla rants that it’s because Magno is a “reptilian freak” and will do anything to take her down. But then it’s Vitus who offers the closest thing to the truth: “They say some kinds make you hallucinate or something. If they don’t kill you… Some people do it for fun, but ugh, nasty.” (169)

After months of purposely skimming over the toad-licking narrative for more inviting topics — any topic, really — curiosity got the better of me. An initial search through the great Oracle, Google, quickly led to web sites focused on psychedelic drug use, addiction, and pleas to not try this at home (or anywhere). That Collins has imbued numerous characters with various mental and physical health challenges is nothing new. This is typically her subtle way of trying to raise awareness to such debilitating diseases and addictions, and to encourage more understanding and empathy for those inflicted by them. Front and center is PTSD, experienced by a wide range of characters — not the least Haymitch — within the original series and beyond. For his part, Dean Highbottom becomes addicted to morphling in Songbirds and Snakes. A “high bottom alcoholic” is one who pretends to live a normal life while doing their best to hide their affliction. And of course, Katniss’ mother, Asterid, suffers from depression, as does Maysilee’s twin sister.

And now we have toad licking, admittedly one of Collins’ more obscure human behaviors that we might presume she just somehow made up. This is not the first time I’ve whispered to myself, Just where does she come up with this stuff? As it turns out, however, Vitus was correct, at least in a nutshell, and toad licking has perhaps the most bizarre backstory of all.

For those like me who were not aware of this behavior prior to reading Sunrise, toad licking is the “unusual and deliberate practice of licking secretions of certain species of toads to get high” (Scottsdalerecovery.com). Before jumping into the nearest smelly pond to partake, however, please read on. It’s not just any toad that provides a psychedelic experience. In the United States, one must turn to the Southwest to find the 7-inch long, leathery Sonoran Desert toad (also known as the Colorado River toad), which secretes bufotenine, basically a natural version of tryptamine also found in some mushrooms and other plants. Other so-called Bufo toads include the Giant marine toad and cane toad. They all have poison glands on their backs and behind their eyes that secrete toxic fluids as a natural defense mechanism. This can prove quite deadly to predators, in the least causing severe irritation, pain, and tissue damage. There are numerous reports of pet dogs falling victim to the toad-licking temptation, and plenty of warnings to pet owners online.

While human toad-lickers have experienced sensations including euphoria, distortion of space and time, and hallucinations to get high, medical-oriented websites caution that the ingesting or smoking of toad venom can include but are not limited to “nausea, vomiting, seizures, respiratory issues, harmful impaired behaviors, blood vessel constriction, anxiety, panic, amnesia, death” (Scottsdalerecovery.com). Likewise, the Addiction Center explains that “Licking toads in the Bufonidae family has been a practice to experience a psychedelic trip.” The practice is particularly dangerous, however, “and may cause muscle weakness, rapid heart rate, and vomiting. The most commonly exploited species is the Sonoran Desert (or Colorado River) toad, found in Mexico and further north in Colorado, California, New Mexico, and Arizona. Either coincidentally or not, Panem’s Capitol is likely found in the extreme northern part of this range, somewhere west of the Colorado Front Range. Is our beloved Magno slurping on bufotenine from the Sonoran Desert toad?

Not only is toad-licking harmful to humans and animals, but the toads themselves don’t fare too well, either. The practice is actually outlawed in many other countries because of its human risks and harm to natural ecosystems. Handling the toads themselves can result in their deaths, along with the desecration of entire toad populations and their fragile environments. The Colorado River toad even faces extinction now in California because of over-harvesting by humans. And now even the National Park Service has added “tongue-contact” with the Sonoran Desert toad into its ongoing warnings, as cited by a 2022 NPR article. “As we say with most things you come across in a national park, whether it be a banana slug, unfamiliar mushroom, or a large toad with glowing eyes in the dead of night, please refrain from licking,” the agency added to its Facebook site. The article continues to explain how the “toad’s toxic secretions contain a powerful hallucinogenic known as 5-MeO-DMT,” which means that collectors have been over-extracting the toads for drug use and have threatened the species in at least New Mexico as well as California.

For some unfathomable reason, Suzanne Collins is not only familiar with toad licking and its human and environmental risks, but she has decided to embed the topic into one of her more despicable characters. This is likely yet another reference to the 1970s when psychedelic drugs and burnt-orange interiors were trendy (see this post, Sunrise on the 70s). For Magno Stift, toad-licking is not an isolated practice, but more so an indicator of his larger identity as a reptile-phile (my word). His delirious side-effects and vomiting conform well to the documented risks of toad licking and the types of hallucinatory influences we are warned about. In conclusion, allow Magno to set the example for all of us. Should you ever be tempted by these leathery, olive-skinned, psychedelic beauties in the desert Southwest, just say no!

Feature image source: Animalia: Colorado River Toad