Does this plot sound familiar?
Wealthy couple who made a fortune in [insert Wall St., real
estate, etc.] decides to chase their dreams: buying their own vineyard and
winery in Napa. Once there, they bankroll an eponymous Cabernet of the dense
and oaky variety, which garners high praise from Robert Parker. This couple
revels in the realization of their dream, purchases art, clinks glasses with
other wealthy folks and politicians at galas, fundraisers, etc.
Tell that same story again and again and you have a pretty
good idea of what's gone on in Napa Valley over the past few decades. Sure
there are outliers, upstarts, scrappy winemakers with a pick-up truck and a
dream, but the highest pedestals are reserved for the wealthy who swoop in and
buy a Napa Cab into existence.
Kathryn, former U.S. ambassador to Austria, has some family
roots in the wine business — her family has a vineyard in Mendocino's Redwood
Valley. Craig was a big real estate guru and co-owner of Dallas Cowboys. They
seem like perfectly nice people. They seem to love what they do and respect
their winemaking team and employees. They are clearly successful businesspeople
and have done quite well for their wine brand. Hall wines have received plenty of 95+ point scores from major publications. But these ingredients do not an
interesting story make.
The narrative point of view is impossible to nail down
because it shifts back and forth with sporadic intensity. The reader get's
Craig's first person POV, then Kathryn's, then a kind of omniscient
third-person combo-POV which speaks for both of them. These can all be present
in a single chapter.
The prose is bland and packed with clichés about shared
passions, making wine from the ground up, insisting on quality over quantity,
you get the idea.
This isn’t a book for wine nerds. Despite its prominence on
the front cover, wine is a secondary character. The protagonist is the business
venture, the brand, the “perfect score.” It just so happens that Napa Valley
Cabernet acts as the stool on which the protagonist proudly stands.
The book does contain some discussion of the ins and outs of
purchasing and running a winery. But if you know anything at all about wine,
the tone sounds almost condescending when the authors explain basic aspects of growing
grapes and making wine.
A good portion of the book is spent recounting which
parties, auctions and charitable events the Halls attend — it’s “as if the
Great Gatsby has returned life.” These chapters read more like “Tales of a
Rich Napa Socialite,” with far too much focus on name-dropping and glamour.
The story of the titular 100-point wine is somewhat
interesting. The team held off picking, making quite a risk to wait through a
big storm, then meticulously pocked and sorted the grapes before moving the
fruit to the winery. They do deserve congratulations for their hard work and realizing
their dream of producing a 2010 vintage Cabernet (not an easy vintage at all).
But I’m not sure this book has much to offer readers. Too much incoherence, too little grit. Too much navel-gazing, too little
wine. Too much focus on scores, not enough focus on... well... everything else. I was left desiring the art and soul promised in the title.
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