One of the enduring mysteries of this moment in the culture of wine is why almost every wine writer from obscure bloggers to the most widely read critics think their job is to demystify wine. Why?
In most areas of life, mystery is a good thing. Literature, film and science depend on mystery for their very existence. It’s what drives an unfolding plot and the dogged search for an explanation. Religion is loved in part because it lends mystery to life. Yet, when it comes to wine, mystery is something everyone thinks we would be better off without.
Perhaps this zeal to eliminate mystery comes from wine’s position as a cultural symbol of sophistication. Perhaps people feel if they lack wine knowledge they appear unsophisticated so to relieve a sense of collective inadequacy we need to make wine into something ordinary and accessible. But, more likely, wine’s complexity seems like something nearly unmasterable and just too much work. So people involved in the selling of wine try to sell it as something as comprehensible as orange juice or soda.
But this attempt to demystify wine betrays the secret of all motivation–the fun is in the mystery, not the mastery. One of the loveliest facts of life is that the more you learn, the more there is to learn. Learning increases a sense of wonder because it expands the facts on which to build horizons. That is surely true of wine knowledge.
Wine is phantasmagorical, constantly mutating, reacting to geographical and environmental conditions, and changing shape depending on who you are, when you drink, where you drink and with whom. And always with the sense that there is something else there to be uncovered. Demystification means knowing exactly what your getting. Wine is fun because it can never be reduced to a set of fixed characteristics that one could simply know.
All those confusing labels, exotic locales, varying vintages, and proliferating varietals are stage setting for the unexpected and the astonishing. To demystify it is a crime.
Exploring the Philosophy of Food and Wine 
This comment is an impressive load of rubbish. You conflate demystify in the pedestrian sense of the term (deconstruct or explain) with demystify (taking the mystery out of wine and life). Paradoxically, your blog spends an inordinate amount of energy analyzing, deconstructing and identifying every salient feature, component and identifiable aspect of wine (including 7 dollars wines from Trader Joe’s). I am not sure what your over-arching mission really is. Are you demystifying wine for mystery lovers who love wine and raining on their de facto parade? Are you a mystery-monger or anti-demystification monger?
And who are you to comment on mystery? Are you not trapped in a contradiction since those high-priestesses of mystery almost come to the same mysterious insight: mystery is ineffable and saying the unsayable is futile. As an obscure blogger yourself, isn’t a bit hypocritical to demystify the tendency to demystify wine. Perhaps you are guilty of the same thing in the opposite direction: over-mystifying wine. Is that what you are doing? Are you getting on board with the religious camp in order to add a little mystery to life?
Your existence and all your silly wine-inspired claptrap is a mystery to me. Perhaps you should take rest and let us real Mysterians and Dionysians enjoy the mystery of life and wine in peace.
The well-known Latin phrase says it best:
Aut Tace, Aut Loqvere Meloria, Silentio!
Oh dear, oh dear ! Well, one thing once can can say for sure is that Mr Pacheco makes no mystery of his mean spirited reaction to what I think is a very ‘nice’ article indeed and I too am very much of the opinion that “One of the loveliest facts of life is that the more you learn, the more there is to learn”.
Myhomefoodthatsamore–Thanks for the response and constructive criticism. Without a context or background, you speak the truth about my counter-blogging. But isn’t calling someone “mean-spirited” a paradoxical sucker punch, which itself is mean-spirited? Or is your ostensible mean-spiritedness killing me with kindness, a covert form of tough love?
Dwight and I are friends, colleagues, and share a deep interest in all aspects of wine.
If you glance at my past responses, you will see a cornucopia of praise, admiration and positivity. More importantly, Dwight is a Phd in philosophy and is highly informed blogger with official credentials as an CSW (Certified Specialist of Wine under the auspices of SWE–Society of Wine Educators). I am sure he can handle the “heat in the kitchen”. And, furthermore, blogging in general necessarily involves, on occasion, throwing “right hooks” or sacking the quarterback. It is part of the human condition to “cook in your own sauce” now and then. Dwight’s blogs, as you may have observed are no different. They demean, skewer, debunk, dismiss, dismantle, and mock all things connected to the aesthetics of food and wine (as well as praise, embrace, celebrate, promote and deify various all things connected to wine.) Blogging is not exactly a blood sport. However, it is my understanding that we are not obliged to send Hallmark cards when responding.
Put simply, no wine critic, writer or blogger wants to be a sycophant. Right? And, of course, the same holds true for the rank-and-file audience who generate a spirited response to all the truths, half-truths, opinions, rants, observations, insights, and urban myths we encounter in the blog-o-sphere. Mean-spiritedness, whether real or perceived, is a two-way street.
For better or worse, you too have all the liberty and space you need to give me a piece of your mind. Disagreement and sharp criticism are part and parcel of our Western intellectual heritage. So-called “spirited” debate can be scathing, harsh or acerbic. Whether or not this qualifies as “mean” is by no means a settled matter. In fact, many responses–however seemingly sharp or bold–may be compassionate and reader-friendly. The criticism is aimed at the ideas consumed by the general public who seek guidance, truth and wisdom about world of wine.
Speculation about the spirit or tone of a comment, criticism or response is of minor importance. What’s important is the substance and content of the commentary. Was it forceful or compelling? Did it successfully challenge the bloggers claims–offering fresh perspectives, exposing falsehoods or inaccuracies, and offering new information—leaving the reader with a richer overview of the themes at hand?
You end your brief response by saying “the more you learn, the more there is to learn”. And then conclude this is one of the loveliest facts of life. Fair play. And, to a great extent, I embrace your thoughts about learning. However, I want to know what you think about the content of the blog–the mystery of wine and the topics associated with it. Given that learning is a perpetual, never-ending process, perhaps we will learn some day that it is not a crime to demystify wine. Or, alternatively, we may realize–sooner or later–that wine is indeed a mystery, a mystery so deep that we will no longer be able to attach a specific price to the mysterious fermented liquid in the bottle. After all, it goes without saying that mysteries are priceless and cannot be quantified, unless of course we acknowledge somehow that mysteries come in dollar-values like everything else-inexpensive mysteries, expensive mysteries, and even mysteries that are two for the price of one!
In vino veritas!
y