By Evan Dawson, Managing Editor
The Wild Vine is not, at its core, a wine book in the most common sense. It is a story of outsiders, connected over the generations by a common sense of purpose and discovery. And like The Billionaire's Vinegar, it is such a compelling work of narrative nonfiction that I have reccomended it to friends who don't care much for wine.
But if you do care for wine, Todd Kliman's book takes on an added weight. And if you care for American wine, it becomes essential reading; the fact that it's gripping and well paced is merely a bonus.
Kliman tells the story of how the Norton grape came to be the American answer to the great wine grapes of Europe. His exhaustive research takes us back centuries, when settlers strove to create a wine society but failed repeatedly. The history and storytelling is so interesting that there is a sense of drama and relief when Dr. Daniel Norton creates this wonder grape; we know it's coming, but it's exciting nonetheless.
But you might wonder: What's Norton? Even the most ardent wine lovers in this country know little or nothing about Norton. That's apparently a problem of modern marketing, but it's also a result of the unfortunate history of the grape and some of its champions, as Kliman details richly. Shifting from the past to the present, Kliman sketches parallels that are hard to miss.
Unfortunately, Kliman seems determined to make sure we don't miss them, so by the book's end he has hammered us with overt declarations. I found myself wondering why he seemed to lose faith in subtlety as the book progressed. After all, he has written such a lovely story that we couldn't possibly miss the connections he wishes us to see.
Without ruining the plot, I'll simply say that Kliman might have been better served to trust his readers a bit more.
There is also the issue of purple prose, a term used to describe over-writing. Twelve pages in to the Wild Vine, I tweeted, "Todd Kliman can write his face off." He is a better writer now than I will probably ever be. But just because you can write your face off does not mean you should actually try to do so. Kliman has so many wonderful tools in his arsenal, but too often he attempts to use them all instead of carefully choosing the best weapon to employ. The first 76 pages of The Wild Vine, comprising Part One, represent some of the very best narrative nonfiction I've ever read. Part Three was a bit tiring, because Kliman seemed set on using two or three adjectives where one would suffice.
But do not let my criticisms convince you I didn't enjoy The Wild Vine. I am now determined to seek out some Norton from Virginia and Missouri. I want to know what the modern-day supporters of Norton are making. The book is a triumph of research and storytelling, and there are stretches of some truly brilliant writing. Kliman is the food and wine editor and restaurant critic for The Washingtonian, and this is his first book. I expect he'll write more, and we'll all benefit if he does.





Nice review of a book all American wine lovers should read. I sampled a few Norton wines and wrote about them on my blog, Now And Zin. Hope you'll want to check out the articles and the Norton grape! http://blog.nowandzin.com/search.aspx?q=norton&sc=t&dt=3m&al=none
Posted by: Randy Fuller | February 21, 2011 at 11:20 AM
I just finished this book myself. I'm looking forward to finding the time to comment in a coherent way.
Posted by: Peter Bell / Fox Run | February 21, 2011 at 01:42 PM
I can only imagine the problems in regard to marketing any non-internationalized grapes. Heck entire growing regions here in Southern California are choosing to grow Merlot poorly rather than grow Sangiovese or even more obscure Italian varieties well because they're worried the 20M cases they sell from their tasting rooms on Saturday and Sundays will dry up.
Posted by: Mark | February 21, 2011 at 07:07 PM
Randy - Thanks for the links. Interesting stuff.
Peter - We look forward to hearing more from you on this.
Mark - No doubt there are barriers. It seems to me that even though Norton has its fervent believers in Virginia, there are far more focusing on vinifera and leaving Norton behind.
Posted by: Evan Dawson | February 21, 2011 at 09:47 PM
The overwrought prose that Evan talks about got on my nerves as well. I also couldn't quite get comfortable with his use of the definite article with grape names: does anyone really call Norton 'the Norton' or Merlot 'the Merlot'?
There were a few howlers that a good copy editor should have picked up. He talks toward the end of the book about 'the microclimate of the state of Virginia.' That term gets misused all the time, but that's the biggest microclimate I've ever heard of!
I don't drink Norton (sorry, the Norton), but I get to taste them at wine competitions often enough. To me they are of two styles: Regular and Heavily Bretty. The unspoiled ones (Regular) are indeed very simple, grapey wines of no particular appeal. The Bretty wines are just like any Bretty red, which is why Nortons got a lot of attention throughout the 1990s from wine writers who cut their teeth on Bordeaux and Rhone wines. In fact, the author keeps referring to the amazing Rhone-like qualities of a well-aged Norton.
I can't believe that any wine writer these days would not recognize Brett in wines, though very few did a couple of decades ago. Why, then, does he not call a spade a spade? Perhaps the mere mention of a spoilage organism being a defining character of the wine would be seen as casting unfair aspersions on the wine.
Posted by: Peter Bell / Fox Run | February 22, 2011 at 10:11 AM
Great to see the comments here.
Peter, I've only had the "Regular" Nortons and have found them to be almost like a cross between zinfandel and California merlot -- fruity, straightforward and inoffensive. I guess you could say I don't "get" Norton, but I've only had a dozen or two examples.
I could be wrong, but I don't think Todd is a wine writer per se. I know he's a restaurant critic in DC but don't know much about his wine writing beyond this book. You're probably right though -- doesn't make a ton of sense to associate Brett with the grape you're centering you book on.
Posted by: Lenn Thompson | February 22, 2011 at 11:54 AM