Hugh Johnson
‘What other subject calls for an annual guidebook for a new vintage?’
It was KIng george III’s brother who said to the author of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ‘always scribble, scribble, scribble, eh, Mr gibbon? another damn’d thick square book, eh?’ (Poor gibbon had just dedicated his life’s work to him.)
He summed up the writer’s life pretty well; scribbling is about the size of it. and most of the time it’s a deadline for 1,000 words. they can be hell to extrude, on time or not – and then they’re gone. who keeps newspapers and magazines ( Decanter apart, that is)?
what a waste, I thought, as I went through the attic filling black plastic bags. they must have amused someone at the time. then I started reading the stuff I’d scribbled 10 years ago, 20, 30, 40… and found that on paper, or my hard drive, I had a chronicle of more than half a century of drinking and discussing wine. Only one man’s point of view, of course, but wine is above all else personal. Had the wine world changed? (You’re kidding.) the market? (Exploded.) Had my tastes changed? (Let’s say, nuanced a little.)
For the past 40 years I’ve also kept a more deliberate, detailed record in my annual Pocket Wine Book. number 40 was released in september. then there have been set-piece monsters involving years of research; atlases, histories… Running through it all is the grub street journalism for a dozen different organs – starting with Vogue in 1960.
wine has been two-thirds of it; the rest travel articles, books on trees, and pursuing my hobby of gardening. wine and gardening are like a voice and an instrument. to me, at least, they are perfect companions, each illustrating in its way the incredible variety of beauties that man and nature can conjure up together. But wine, unlike gardening, is a consumer subject; commerce its powerful motor, and its timescales (for all the respect we give to ancient bottles) are dramatically short. I’m not complaining: what other subject calls for an annual guidebook for a new vintage?
anthologies are great savers of time and space. they get round the damn’d thick square book problems, offering up the juicy bits on a plate. they do the sorting through of dusty piles of journals. they get you off to sleep with no guilt about finishing the chapter. Years of effort in trying to please and entertain millions are distilled and proffered in an attractive format at a modest cost. shall I wrap it, madam, or will you read it on the way home?