Dariusz Galasiński: Is wine hard to write about?

Wine language and communication continue to be a popular topic of wine writers’ reflection. Wine vocabulary is said to be exclusionary and technical, wine places and names are hard to pronounce, and, more generally, wine language is simply inadequate in describing wine. As a linguist, I am fascinated by such enunciations. Is language not enough; is wine really difficult to write about?

The key argument underpinning stories of wine writers’ difficulties is this: wine is so complex and so nuanced that rendering it in language is nigh impossible. It takes tremendous skill to discern wine complexity and so, it escapes language. Can language used to describe sausages, broomsticks and worn-out underwear be also capable of rendering experiences coming from interactions with Burgundy’s or Bordeaux’s wine?

Well, of course, it can. If Kant, Hume and Wittgenstein rendered their ideas, if Baudelaire, Saramago and Wisłocka were able to write about humanity in some of the most beautiful texts in history, wine writers can describe fermented grape juice. In fact, they manage it so well that most of them decide to replace their linguistic finesse with a score. All the amazing complexity seems to be given justice with a simple 94.

That said, there is evidence that aroma lexis can be inconsistent and limited. Does it mean that language is inadequate? No, it just means that modern European societies do not rely on scent much (no, wine is not an issue here), so we have not needed an elaborate vocabulary. Moreover, we found ways to cope. We use other senses to describe smell and get around the problem by simply saying ‘it smells like….’. Both tactics work surprisingly well.

The millions of tasting notes, the thousands and thousands of individual blogs, the hundreds of paid websites would also suggest that the difficulties in describing wine might be somewhat overstated. Where, then, do the narratives of language inadequacy and writing difficulties come from?

I have two explanations. Let me start with the cynical one. There is a side-narrative to the wine-as-extraordinary adage: the story of the amazing wine writer. He or she is so amazingly knowledgeable (this is a quote) that dumbing the message down and trying to communicate with the average wine drinker like me is a task all too often impossible to complete. The reader is simply incapable of bridging the gap between their ignorance and the wine writer’s greatness. Basically, it is a nifty way to avoid saying: I have nothing interesting to say.

Here is the second explanation – a supportive one. I would despair if I had to write another story on Rioja, Bordeaux or Napa. All has been said, all wine has been tasted. Your eyes must bleed as you write again about the clouds in Barolo or the sun on the grand-cru slopes of Burgundy. Well, take a few books about wine regions and you will see that it is one book written hundreds of times. Delete the names and you will not know what you are reading.

The true difficulty of wine writing is not in the intricacies of wine. It is in escaping the grinding repetitiveness of wine texts. So few set aside the ‘fruit salad plus structure’ stencil underpinned by the undulating hills and other landscape features. This is also why writers go for ‘flowery’, metaphorical language, speaking of wine which is dignified, muscular or angelic. And I so prefer critics’ extravagant, sometimes bombastic, sometimes lyrical styles to the fruit salad menu. Give me dignified wine (my personal favourite of silly wine attributes) any time but spare me seven fruit aromas in a sentence without a verb.

Sometimes such writing does not come off, though. Extravagant becomes silly. But before you give in to the urge to mock, stop to think about the double bind facing the wine writer. How do you maintain the professional identity of a wine expert and write in a way that you have not seen before? Do remember that most wine writers have only their writing to vouch for their expertise. Writing within the genre must be more important than writing attractively.

Is wine difficult to write about, then? Not at all. Wine is difficult to write about well. Just like anything else. So, stop complaining, language describes wine just fine. Stop blaming me for not understanding or not liking what you write; it is on you. Just tell me how you found the wine.

• Dariusz Galasiński is a linguist and professor at the University of Wroclaw in Poland. He has been writing on experiences of mental illness and suicide. He also drinks wine and does research into how it is spoken about both by amateurs and professionals.