Bookworm, Issue 19

The Book: All the Colors of the Dark by Chris Whitaker

Patch and Saint are adolescent outcasts and best friends. He’s poor and has only one eye. She’s petite, a tomboy with a braid and thick glasses. Patch is tough, a fighter, while Saint is smart and determined. They are nearly inseparable until Patch vanishes, an event that shatters their lives and rattles their community. All the Colors of the Dark is first and foremost a story about life-long friendship, but as the title implies, despair will test Patch and Saint’s bond, and only a glimmer of light will sustain it.

We’re pairing this unsettling story with an equally dark wine: le vin noir, “the black wine.” It’s from an ancient French wine region known for deeply colored wines full of black fruit flavors and tannic structure. Here, the grape is called Côt. While these wines can be “severe,” our paired wine includes Merlot in the blend, which contributes softness and approachability.

The novel begins in 1975 in rural Monta Clare, Missouri, surrounded by the natural beauty of the Ozark mountains. Institutions like the church and law enforcement are respected, and conservative values prevail here, yet there’s general tolerance for those who depart from the mainstream. (Author Chris Whitaker, who is British, chose this setting after coming across a beautiful photo of Dogwood Canyon, Missouri.) Saint is being raised by her grandmother Norma, who drives a bus to support them, while Patch’s single mother Ivy struggles with addiction and works the night shift, barely making ends meet.

At nearly 600 pages, this novel is long, but it’s utterly absorbing as the author combines a page-turning thriller with an investigation into the complexities of love and friendship. The story unfolds in short chapters, some only a page or two, alternating between vignettes that bring Patch and Saint to life. The heart of the mystery is disturbing; Patch foils an attempted abduction of a local girl, but goes missing himself. A short time later, another young woman disappears. Saint and Patch will spend decades searching for answers, desperate to find out what happened and understand why – their obsession straining their relationship. “Grief is part of life,” the town’s doctor Marty Tooms says, but “(i)t’s the unknown that truly ruins us.”

Affirmation of everyday life, rendered in tender detail, permeates the central storyline. But it generally evokes uncertainly rather than comfort. For example, on the morning of her wedding, Saint sits at a piano, “outside a strong wind blew and broke the petiole of russet leaves till they freed and fell, and Saint wondered if anything died a more beautiful death.” She plays “a song by a frog with an introspective soul,” and Norma comments that it sounds sad. Saint disagrees, saying, “It’s for the lovers and the dreamers.” The Muppets reference is just one of several song fragments tucked into the novel; look for Neil Young, Elton John and the Velvet Underground, among others.

A traumatic incident in the author’s own life shaped Patch’s character, in part. Whitaker was stabbed when he was a teenager, and as he struggled with post traumatic stress disorder, he turned to writing for therapy. In the novel, Patch is befriended by a gallery owner who introduces him to oil painting. On the canvas he confronts his trauma – painting to feel whole again and searching for a connection to something larger than himself. Patch’s trauma follows him into adulthood, and his struggle is heart-wrenching. Amidst the unrelenting grief, Whitaker creates just enough hope that Patch will overcome adversity, and that Saint, who will do anything to help him, will not lose herself in the process.

Readers come to expect the worst, yet nonetheless, hope for the best, for Patch and Saint. This tension is written into nearly every page of the book, but it’s beautifully balanced with space for contemplation. It’s hard not to pause when Saint asks, “Why do we hold onto the bad things and forget the good?” And yet, in Patch and Saint’s darkest hours, friendship is their greatest source of resilience, offering hope of a path to wholeness.

The Wine: Clos La Coutale, Cahors, Malbec, 2021 $18.99

This wine is deep ruby, with a touch of purple. It has medium (+) intensity on the nose with developing aromas of baked black plum, black raspberry, black cherry, strawberry jam, vanilla, baking spice, chocolate, leather, prune, anise and candied orange peel.

On the palate the wine is dry with medium (+) acid, medium body, medium alcohol at 13.5% ABV, and medium tannins, which are fine-grained, yet lingering. It has medium (+) intensity with flavors that mostly mirror the nose; but on the palate the fruit is fresh and ripe, rather than jammy. In addition, hints of earth and dried herbs add a savory character. The wine has a medium finish.

Cahors is a small red wine AOC in southwestern France where wine production dates back to Roman times. The grapes in this wine, from winemaker Philippe Bernède, grow just south of the River Lot. After harvest, grapes are de-stemmed, and each vineyard parcel is fermented separately before blending. The wine is 80% Malbec and 20% Merlot. Before bottling, it is aged for one year in foudres (very large wooden vats) and used grand cru Bordeaux barrels.

Why the pairing works:

All the Colors of the Dark is an unsettling mystery and thriller in which tragedy threatens Patch and Saint’s tightly-held friendship. The disturbing story pairs best with an equally dark wine, and our Cahors from Clos La Coutale has both intense color and dark fruit aromas and flavors.

During and after a traumatic incident, Patch uses his senses to search for meaning in the darkness. Drinking wine is a sensory experience, as well, albeit a pleasurable one. Sip this Cahors and immerse yourself in the complexity beyond the inky hue.

The Cahors wine region, halfway between Bordeaux and Montpellier, France, is the ancestral home of Malbec, known as Côt, here. AOC wines must be at least 70% Malbec and can include up to 30% Merlot or Tannat. Historically, the region’s wine was called “the black wine” because of its deep color, concentration, tannic structure and age-ability.

Like our novel, the story of Cahors is not without tragedy. Most of the vineyards were devastated by phylloxera in the 1880s and were replanted with pest-resistant hybrids. As new railways replaced rivers for trade with the north, access to less expensive wines from the Languedoc meant that Cahors fell further into decline. In 1956, a particularly cold winter killed most of the vines, and winemakers had to start over, again. But this time, they identified the best vineyard sites and planted nearly all of them to Malbec, marking a return to quality.

(Malbec made its way from Bordeaux to Argentina, where it’s now the country’s most planted grape. So, you might be more familiar with Argentinian Malbec than with those from France. In Argentina, Malbec is generally produced as a varietal wine. These wines can be full and rich or elegant and fresh, depending on where the grapes are grown, but most display deep pigmentation with plummy dark fruit aromas and flavors.)

This particular Cahors is 80% Malbec and 20% Merlot. The Merlot contributes approachability and balances structure with softness. I find similar balance in the novel as the story oscillates between despair and hopefulness.