Bookworm, Issue 22

The Book: Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

From the start, there’s a sense that Gilead, a 2005 Pulitzer-prize winning novel by beloved American author Marilynne Robinson, is a book to be savored. To be read again, and possibly again. Like a letter from a friend, except in this case, the correspondence consists of an ailing and aging man’s farewell letters to his young son.

The story takes place in 1956 in small-town Gilead, Iowa. The narrator, 76-year-old Reverend John Ames, tells his 7-year-old son that one day (soon), he’ll be gone. On the pages that follow, he gives in to retrospection; weaving together stories about his ancestors, his long career as a Congregationalist minister, and his late-in-life marriage, with musings on fatherhood, forgiveness, disappointment, loneliness, desire, and hope.

Our wine pairing for this book about the bonds between fathers and sons comes from a father and son “winegrowing” team in California. Like the novel, it’s a wine to savor, with complexity to complement the wisdom, and inevitably some regret, that accompanies a long life.

Ames’s life in Gilead is mostly solitary until he meets Lila, his wife, and the two have a son. Prior to them, he says, “I didn’t feel very much at home in the world, that was a fact. Now I do.” Ames’s father was a preacher, as was his father’s father. His best friend “old Boughton” is the town’s Presbyterian minister, and Boughton’s beloved, but wayward son, Jack, is his godson. From this limited cast and singular setting, Robinson poetically builds much from little, creating quiet tension within relationships that are loving, but not without flaws and complications.

Reverend Ames is perceptive and gently humorous as he attempts to tell his son all the things he wishes he could say in person. Daily, simple pleasures become elevated moments of beauty (even sacred) through his eyes. Watching his wife and son blow bubbles at the cat who is “beside herself at the glut of opportunity,” he observes some bubbles escape above the trees. “You two were too intent on the cat to see the celestial consequences of your worldly endeavors. They were very lovely,” he writes. “Ah, this life, this world.”

Fittingly, for an author with theological interests, the reading experience is reminiscent of mediation, even prayer. When Reverend Ames says, “One great benefit of a religious vocation is that it helps you concentrate. It gives you a good basic sense of what is being asked of you and also what you might as well ignore,” it feels as though he is speaking on behalf of Robinson herself.

That the book is not a page-turner seems purposeful. Gilead must be read with intention. Both the miraculous and the mundane – and the miraculous within the mundane – are worthy of Ames’s attention. “I wish I could leave you certain of the images in my mind, because they are so beautiful that I hate to think they will be extinguished when I am,” he writes. One cannot help but feel introspective, pausing to consider the passage of time and those things that matter most.

Reverend Ames’s life as a preacher, a father, and a friend is (deceptively) straightforward, but his letters impart profound insight. He appreciates the world around him – in all its beauty, strangeness, sadness and humor – reminding us to do the same. For when we do, we become attune to and grateful for the small (but significant) moments that create richness and meaning in our lives.

The Wine: Melville, Estate Syrah, Sta. Rita Hills, California, 2020 $47.99

Deep ruby, animalistic, earthy, and wild. A beguiling combination with a long, peppery finish and lingering, yet softly pleasant, tannic structure. Imagine yourself not at home, but on horseback, following a coastal trail above the sea. Underfoot, the scents of sagebrush and violets, mingle in the brine-filled air. At a scenic overlook, you dismount for a picnic; unpacking prosciutto, pepper-crusted salami, black olives, fresh black and red cherries, blueberries and a small piece of dark chocolate. Close your eyes, savor the sun’s warmth, breathe in scents of both leather and horse. Contentedly you return home, refreshed.

Serve slightly chilled. 100% Syrah from California’s Sta. Rita Hills AVA in Santa Barbara County. 40% whole cluster fermentation. Aged 18 months in neutral French barrels. Complete technical details available here.

Ron Melville founded this family-owned estate and later was joined by his son Chad, now head “winegrower.” Just 10 miles from the ocean, they farm 120 acres of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Syrah vines. Here, morning and evening fog and afternoon winds cool the vineyards and prolong the growing season, a key to flavor development. The Melvilles farm organically and ferment their grapes in small lots, striving for “unmanipulated and site-specific wines.”

Why the pairing works:

While the father-son relationship in both the novel and the wine is an interesting point of connection between the two, it’s not the primary consideration for this pairing. I chose Melville Estate Syrah for several other reasons (and because it’s outstanding and delicious).

First of all, Gilead is a distinctly American novel, therefore requiring an American wine; and California is the country’s largest and most established fine wine-producing region. The novel takes place in the midwest, in rural Gilead, Iowa, where Reverend Ames is a Congregationalist minister, although he mentions the town’s Presbyterians, Lutherans, Baptists, and Methodists, all denominations of American Protestantism.

American history is woven into the novel, as well. Reverend Ames’s grandfather fought alongside abolitionists to secure Kansas as a free state and lost an eye in the Civil War. Reverend Ames remembers a racially-motivated incident in Gilead that occurred when he was a child, and he hears firsthand how racism and segregation in 1950s America plays out in James Boughton’s life.

Despite the violent history, there’s a lovely memory from Reverend Ames’s boyhood when he stands alongside his father at his grandfather’s abandoned grave. The moon is rising as the sun is setting, and the Kansas prairie is aglow. His father says to him, “I would never have thought this place could be beautiful. I’m glad to know that.”

And secondly, Gilead essentially chronicles one man’s emotional interior, and so it deserves a wine with equal complexity. The variety of aromas and flavors – fruity, floral, herbal, earthy, savory, and meaty – correspond with Reverend Ames’s life experience, comprised of both wisdom and regret. The Melvilles call their wines “unmanipulated,” and similarly, Reverend Ames’s narrative is at no times heavy-handed. He is warm, modest, straightforward, occasionally amusing, and observant. Structurally, this Syrah’s fine-grained tannins, refreshing acidity, and 14% ABV is in perfect balance, never overbearing.

The reading experience is meditative, even prayer-like, inviting introspection. Approach the wine in a similar manner to enjoy how it opens and unveils more subtle notes. Separately and together, both Melville Estate Syrah and Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead, encourage us to slow down, to pay attention, and to appreciate this life.

PS: Winegrower Chad Melville wrote this touching blog post about his relationship with his father in 2017.

PPS: Syrah is widely planted in France’s Rhône River valley and in Australia, where it’s called Shiraz. In the northern Rhône, the wines are known for aromas and flavors of meat, game, black olives, and pepper. Melville Estate Syrah reminds me of them. If you’re curious why I chose Syrah for this pairing, instead of a California Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, or Pinot Noir, I did so after reading the following paragraph from Karen MacNeil’s The Wine Bible: “(A)t the turn of the twentieth century, the British scholar and wine writer George Saintsbury described the famous Rhône wine Hermitage (made from Syrah) as the ‘manliest wine’ he’d ever drunk.” Appropriate, perhaps, for a novel about fathers and sons?

PPPS: My favorite quote from Gilead that despite my best effort could not be worked into my review: “There are a thousand thousand reasons to live this life, every one of them sufficient.”