Drink No Longer Water

In Vino Veritas doesn't even begin to capture the Truth according to Roger Scrunton's I Drink Therefore I Am: A Philosopher's Guide to Wine.  This is an odd book; I enjoyed reading it, but I have a hard time imagining recommending it to anyone.  The basic problem:  It is all over the place.  One part biographical reflections on Scrunton's life with wine, one part a tour of the world and wine, one part philosophy using wine as the hook on which to wander off onto all sort of topics, and one part an amusing guide to which wine to drink with which philosopher.

The big message of the book: Wine is Important, Really Important.  It is not simply something you drink.  It is not even an accompaniment to a meal.  It is Something Big.  For example:

"When we raise a glass of wine to our lips, therefore, we are savouring an ongoing process: the wine is a living thing, the last result of other living things, and the progenitor of life in us.  It is almost as though it were another human presence in any social gathering, as much a focus of interest and in the same way as the other people there.  This experience is enhanced by the aroma, taste and the simultaneous impact on nose and mouth, which--while not unique to wine--have, as I have argued, an intimate connection to the immediate intoxicating effect, so as to be themselves as intoxicating.  The whole being of the drinker rushes to the mouth and the olfactory organs to meet the tempting meniscus, just as the whole being of the lover rises to the lips in a kiss."

Or, to take another example:

"At some level, I venture to suggest, the experience of wine is a recuperation of the original cult whereby the land was settled and the city built.  And what we taste in the wine is not just the fruit and its ferment, but also the peculiar flavour of a landscape to which the gods have been invited and where they have found a home.  Nothing else that we eat or drink comes to us with such a halo of significance, and by refusing to drink it people send an important message--the message that they do not belong on this earth."

And you get the idea.  On the whole, Scrunton is very persuasive that I should drink a better class of wine.  However, I had a fundamental problem with the whole book--of all the alcoholic beverage categories, I think wine is my least favorite.  I like a good glass of wine with a formal dinner, and I can appreciate a glass of wine other times, but all in all, while I don't dislike wine, it isn't something I ever choose to drink.  I much prefer beer, gin, whisky, brandy, rum, tequila, and so on.  If faced with the choice of a half-dozen different alcoholic beverages, it would be a rare list where wine was at the top of my list of the one I would choose.  (I would, for example, choose even the worst wine over Southern Comfort--now that is a repulsive substance.  I would also prefer a really good wine to a really cheap beer, but it is hard to imagine the circumstances under which that is the choice.)  Now, my taste preferences are neither here nor there, one would think, but according to Scrunton, my taste preferences are a sign of a serious Moral Failing.  You see, the book is not the philosphers' guide to alcohol, but wine.  And Wine is not just any other alcoholic beverage, but a Class Unto Itself.  And if you don't appreciate Wine, then you are akin to the person who doesn't appreciate opera.  You are a barbarian.

[Unfortunately, my wife agrees with Scrunton here---wine is the only alcoholic beverage my wife really enjoys.  She'll drink a vodka and fruit juice concoction if there is no wine around, but given the choice, she would always have a glass of wine.  Always.]

But, this argument that wine is morally superior to other drinks is where I have a hard time following Scrunton.  I can buy that wine is good; I can buy that drinking wine can be a prelude to serious thinking.  But, I cannot buy that wine is fundamentally in a different category than beer or whisky--that one of those drinks is reflective of a deeper moral and spiritual order than the other two.

But, as soon as I convince myself of Scrunton's exaggerated claim for wine, he reminds us yet again that the Eucharist is bread and wine, not bread and beer.  Indeed, were a church to offer beer as a substitute for wine in the Eucharist, it would be outrageous.  (Though why the low protestant churches feel perfectly free to substitute sweet grape juice for wine is a thing I cannot understand.)  Maybe Wine really is important after all?  OK, I still don't think so, but "This is my blood" is a really hard argument to simply ignore.