Neil Pendock: August 2006
Author:
Neil Pendock
Published: 06 Oct 06
Evolution, biodiversity and survival of the fittest. Where does SA wine fit in? Eugène N Marais is an SA original who deserves a reputation as towering
as one of those termite mounds in his Soul of the
White Ant that was sys-tematically
plagiarised by Belgian Nobel laureate Maurice Maeterlinck in 1926. The on-line
encyclopedia www.wikipedia.org claims Maeterlinck
got away with it because Marais wrote in his native Afrikaans and "refused
to translate his works into English [and so] they remained almost unknown outside
of southern Africa."
Which is simply not true, as he penned his follow-up masterpiece, Soul of the Ape, in English and would have published it in the language of Shakespeare if his health didn't collapse as a direct consequence of being mugged by Maeterlinck. The saga ended in tears with Marais doing a Tarantino with a shotgun on the farm Pelindaba (which ironically means "the end of the business") in 1936.
The Soul of the Ape is a revolutionary, albeit unfinished, extension of Charles Darwin's principle of evolution with regards the origins of the human subconscious mind. Marais proposed a phyletic (genetic) and individual memory after spending several years studying chacma baboons in the Waterberg. In noting that vegetarian baboons "in captivity, easily acquire the habit of eating cooked meat, as also they frequently acquire an inordinate craving for tobacco and alcohol", smokers and drinkers have an evolutionary excuse - their phyletic memories made them do it.
This novel application of biological processes is precisely what WOSA - the wine exporters' association - do with their appropriation of the principle of biodiversity to explain the variability of SA wine styles. Biodiversity as a wine marketing concept came under fire recently from Malcolm Gluck, the most entertaining UK wine commentator. Gluck's argument was a simple one: wine biodiversity is rubbish, because terroir doesn't exist. The actions of a winemaker overwhelmingly determine the character of a wine. Soil, climate, aspect, tradition are second-order effects, at best.
André Shearer, who moves the lion's share of SA wine sold in the USA, attacks the concept on the more practical level of it being too complicated for consumers to understand. With 17 seconds available to make a pitch, biodiversity is simply too baffling.
My own reservations start with the grape as an alien invader species, imported by Jan van Riebeeck in 1655. From the point of view of indigenous fynbos, grapes came on the same boat as the Port Jackson, Eucalypts and those agaves some people try and make Tequila from in Graaf Reinett.
Taking a leaf out of Eugène Marais, another interpretation of SA wine diversity is simply survival of the fittest. Make as many different styles as you can and, as the estate agent said to the Clifton bungalow owner, let the free market decide. Extending ecological principles a bit further, could the present predicament of SA wine be all the fault of Charles Darwin?
This magazine has been rating wine since 1993. A brief analysis of the alcohol levels of those awarded a full-house of 5 Stars (excluding fortified wines) over the last decade, confirms that alcohol levels rise and by 14% a year. While a case could be made that this is a consequence of global warming, I would suggest it is another manifestation of survival of the fittest. To win show glory, SA winemakers submit to evolutionary pressures and turn up the volume.
The only problem is that (certain) local wine judges are poor arbiters of fitness, as recent contradictory results from high-profile international tasting tourneys confirm. Like the International Wine Challenge with some of the highest rated SA cuvees languishing in the "no award" category.
With domestic wine sales down 15% over a five year period, local consumers are clearly not on the same page, either. SA wine needs to seriously examine its compass and check who's steering, before it lands further up an ecological dead-end like a dodo, a quagga or Eugène N Marais.
Which is simply not true, as he penned his follow-up masterpiece, Soul of the Ape, in English and would have published it in the language of Shakespeare if his health didn't collapse as a direct consequence of being mugged by Maeterlinck. The saga ended in tears with Marais doing a Tarantino with a shotgun on the farm Pelindaba (which ironically means "the end of the business") in 1936.
The Soul of the Ape is a revolutionary, albeit unfinished, extension of Charles Darwin's principle of evolution with regards the origins of the human subconscious mind. Marais proposed a phyletic (genetic) and individual memory after spending several years studying chacma baboons in the Waterberg. In noting that vegetarian baboons "in captivity, easily acquire the habit of eating cooked meat, as also they frequently acquire an inordinate craving for tobacco and alcohol", smokers and drinkers have an evolutionary excuse - their phyletic memories made them do it.
This novel application of biological processes is precisely what WOSA - the wine exporters' association - do with their appropriation of the principle of biodiversity to explain the variability of SA wine styles. Biodiversity as a wine marketing concept came under fire recently from Malcolm Gluck, the most entertaining UK wine commentator. Gluck's argument was a simple one: wine biodiversity is rubbish, because terroir doesn't exist. The actions of a winemaker overwhelmingly determine the character of a wine. Soil, climate, aspect, tradition are second-order effects, at best.
André Shearer, who moves the lion's share of SA wine sold in the USA, attacks the concept on the more practical level of it being too complicated for consumers to understand. With 17 seconds available to make a pitch, biodiversity is simply too baffling.
My own reservations start with the grape as an alien invader species, imported by Jan van Riebeeck in 1655. From the point of view of indigenous fynbos, grapes came on the same boat as the Port Jackson, Eucalypts and those agaves some people try and make Tequila from in Graaf Reinett.
Taking a leaf out of Eugène Marais, another interpretation of SA wine diversity is simply survival of the fittest. Make as many different styles as you can and, as the estate agent said to the Clifton bungalow owner, let the free market decide. Extending ecological principles a bit further, could the present predicament of SA wine be all the fault of Charles Darwin?
This magazine has been rating wine since 1993. A brief analysis of the alcohol levels of those awarded a full-house of 5 Stars (excluding fortified wines) over the last decade, confirms that alcohol levels rise and by 14% a year. While a case could be made that this is a consequence of global warming, I would suggest it is another manifestation of survival of the fittest. To win show glory, SA winemakers submit to evolutionary pressures and turn up the volume.
The only problem is that (certain) local wine judges are poor arbiters of fitness, as recent contradictory results from high-profile international tasting tourneys confirm. Like the International Wine Challenge with some of the highest rated SA cuvees languishing in the "no award" category.
With domestic wine sales down 15% over a five year period, local consumers are clearly not on the same page, either. SA wine needs to seriously examine its compass and check who's steering, before it lands further up an ecological dead-end like a dodo, a quagga or Eugène N Marais.
