Furies and Mercies: July 2020 book + bottle pairing

June was a heavy month - between protests for social justice, spikes of new Covid infections in our town and state, and the constant uncertainty of how we should be running our business to A) stay viable through the end of the year and B) to protect our beloved customers and employees. So we took a break from talking so we could focus on these other listening and learning. You may have noticed we paused our email campaigns and skipped June’s book + bottle pairing. But we’re back now with a great pairing for you.

I won’t speak any more of Covid or justice or depression, but instead will talk about strength and power and resilience and love and I will let you use these lights to fill your own dark spaces as you see fit.

our July 2020 Book + Bottle pairing

THE BOOK
Our book this month is The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave. It is fiction based on two historical events - a brutal storm that in 1617 wiped out almost the entire population of men from the Norwegian Island of Vardø as they were out fishing, and the destructive witch hunts that followed in 1621 that were used to squash independent thought in favor of conformity to the Church.

“May the mercies of God be upon you”

Vardø, where the average summer temperature doesn’t exceed 50ºF

Indulge me as I set the historical context for the novel: At the time, what we now know as Norway was then a country called Denmark - Norway run by a government in Copenhagen. The protestant reformation was running its course through Europe and the government of Denmark - Norway was trying to unify the country under the Protestant moniker. While the Church “united” the country politically, the population included both Christian Scandinavians (whites) and the Samí people (not white) who practiced a nature-based Shamanism and are often called Lapps in a derogatory way. The Samí beliefs were considered akin to magic or devil worship by the Church and the government was starting witch burnings to purge society of anyone who thought differently. In the time that this story is set, the government is actively engaging new laws to ban shamanistic practices and to try to convert or Norwegian-ize the Samí population. It is within this context that our story unfolds.

The book begins with the storm. The women see signs and blame the storm on the devil, on the Lapps, on evil spirits. In a single flash, their men are gone forever. This drama unfolds quickly - I had to flip back a page to confirm that it had actually happened. Immediately, the women get to work - they learn to fish, they learn to work together. They become stronger as a team. They face their differences to succeed as a group. Soon, the government takes notice that there’s an island with women doing things that men usually do - like fishing and building and burying the dead - and they become alarmed. They send a commissioner to protect (read: guard) the women.

The dynamic is heightened as the commissioner’s wife befriends the local women and becomes more aware of female independence and her own place in the hierarchy amongst tensions of male versus female, the power of freedom of thought, and the silencing of non-dominant beliefs. We see relationships between mothers and daughters, with wives and lost husbands, with friends, and with lovers and how these relationships change through the addition of outsiders and the threat of witch burnings for anyone who is an “outsider” in a different way.

I love this book and this story. The writing is gorgeous, the characters are likable and well-developed, and the plot flows pleasantly from beginning to end. Though you’re dragged through the horror and torture along with the characters, the end will leave you feeling strong, hopeful, and resilient. It’s not a happy ending, I would say, but one that echos the importance of being who you are and being loved for who you are.

THE BOTTLE
We’ve paired The Mercies with Domaine du Joncier’s Le Classique 2015 , a red blend from Southern France.

Marine Roussel, winemaker of Domaine du Joncier’s Le Classique

This was such a fun wine pairing to choose for several reasons, but the predominant one is that the winemaker is a strong, feisty woman like the characters in the book. Her name is Marine Roussel, and she’s a charismatic icon in the Rhone valley. She inherited the winery from her father but didn’t decide to take over the family business until she had successfully lived on her own and had her own career as a graphic designer. Fiercely independent and operating on her own schedule, Roussel decided to return to the Rhone and we’re so glad she did. A true artist, Roussel is able to balance her wines with purity and minerality which is a feat in the parching heat of the Southern Rhone. She nurtures the naturally low yields resulting from the harsh climate which make each grape sweeter and more flavorful which in turn makes robust and delicious wines.

The wine is a gorgeous ruby color with dramatic legs. It stains the glass a bit, and even though it’s already five years old, you can barely see any signs of aging - just a faint hint of garnet around the rim. It’s still drinking fresh and ripe. On the nose, you’ll notice a combination of fresh and dried fruits: dried sour cherries, ripe red cherries, perfectly ripe black plums, stewed strawberries, and bursting blackberries. There are secondary notes of fresh cedar forest, cinnamon, slate, and graphite. It smells rich and fresh and inviting.

On first sip, you’ll notice how bright the wine is - it’s almost tart! The tannins dig into your gums as the rich wine fills your mouth. The bright acidity provides a beautiful backbone for the lovely fruit. The finish is long and exciting. There’s a lot here. The wine is certified organic and biodynamic.

The wine is a classic Southern Rhone blend of syrah, grenache, mourvèdre, cinsault, and carignan. Sound familiar? These grapes are often blended together and the Southern Rhone is the birthplace of this famous combination. This wine is from the appellation Lirac which is adjacent to the expensive and well known Chateauneuf Du Pape. In this part of France, strong cold winds called the Mistral rip through vineyards causing the grapes to develop thicker skins, but also keeping the grapes cooler in what is generally a very hot climate, helping to preserve their acidity and freshness and making them into the quality wines we love from the region. The Mistral reminds me of the storm at the beginning of The Mercies - both causing pain but also bringing about the strength and fortitude in both the women and the wines.

It’s a lovely thing how what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.