Customer Reviews

A Tale of Two Valleys: Wine, Wealth and the Battle for the Good Life in Napa and Sonoma

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(7)

 

 

Two things struck me about the book. First, the eccentric characters were not unlike those that one runs into routinely in a venue I'm more familiar with--small town deep south. Though flavored of California, of wine country, and of blue-state sensibilities, dress any one of the Sonomans in a blue sports coat and khakis and stick a bourbon-and-coke in his hand and you have yourself an everyday southerner of some stripe. Rich, poor, pretentious, humble, genuine, phony, romantic, hateful, kind, any of these just so long as slightly eccentric-cum-affected. Secondly, I noted a similarity in the characters' efforts to find transcendent meaning by pursuing pastimes with literal religious fervor. Wine, wine making, environmentalism, green space preservation, leisure--all find their place as the god of some Sonoman who otherwise found deity deceased in college and liked it that way, or so he thought. In parallel, take a less than rare southerner and find him worshiping on the gridiron any given Saturday or gleaning metaphysical truth from a blues man in a juke joint and you'll see the reverse image of your friendly Sonoman. I thought the book was well written and, intentionally or no, painted a clear picture of postmodern man's failure to find meaning. No idol satisfies, no passion fulfills, and A Tale of Two Valleys depicts that nicely.

Deutschman's book artfully chronicles the misadventures of "typical" Northern Californians in their native habitat. They're all here: the iconoclastic hippies, annoying activists, groovy corporate dropouts, disgustingly rich tech geeks, tyrannically earnest organic farmers and insufferable oenophiles. He pulls back the curtain on these spoiled, pampered, pompous, self-indulgent Northern Californians and their -OK, I'll admit it-utterly charmed, fascinating lives.

In paragraph after paragraph, Deutschman lauds the people of Sonoma, whom he sees as "reg'lar folks," while excoriating people from Napa, most San Franciscans, and anybody who stops at a winery for wine tasting. This is reverse snobbery at its worst. I quickly tired of Deutschman's pronouncements of who's a phony, and who's pretentious. Napa and Sonoma have plenty to offer, Alan. Leave your sophomoric value judgements out of it, especially when you revel in being a guest at a rich out-of-towner's weekend retreat in Sonoma.

Alan Deutschman's "A Tale of Two Valleys" is a quick, reasonably entertaining read, but as someone who loves the Napa and Sonoma Valleys and visits them a couple times a year, I was hoping for more. Some reviewers have taken Deutschman to task for factual errors; it's plain he misspelled the name of California wine industry pioneer Agoston Haraszthy (though that might have been an editing or printing error), and he may well have totally mischaracterized Haraszthy's life, and other things in the book as well. In any case, I had a different problem with "A Tale of Two Valleys": Deutschman tells the story in the first person, thus making himself a character in the book. That in itself is not a sin--so did John Berendt in "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil"--but, unlike Berendt, it's painfully obvious Deutschman remains on the outside of Napa and Sonoma, looking in. To be blunt, whereas Berendt is a storyteller and an empath, Deutschman is a reporter and a solipsist. He introduces a bewildering number of characters in his tale of political and financial infighting in the Wine Country, but he doesn't come close to making any of them memorable, with the single exception of Maria "Ditty" Vella, a cheese broker from an old-line Sonoma family and an outspoken advocate of slow food, slow growth and respect for the environment. There's no equivalent here to Jim Williams, Danny Hansford or Lady Chablis; I weep for the loss of what Berendt could have made of genuine characters like Bob Cannard Sr., the chicken historian of Sonoma, and Ken Brown, the New York cabbie turned Sonoma hippie activist. Deutschman is obviously enthusiastic about all the wonderful wines he drinks and gourmet meals he eats, but--except for one dinner with established winemaking families, planned expressly to keep out the parvenus--he doesn't give us much of a feel for them. The stories of the parallel battles over the futures of Napa and Sonoma are intrinsically interesting, and Deutschman tells them cleanly, swiftly, professionally. But it's too bad that this potentially gourmet tale is the literary equivalent of a bag of Cheetos--tasty, quickly consumed, and quickly forgotten.

Chock full of interesting characters and insightful observations, A Tale of Two Valleys is an entertaining read that ultimately disappoints for lack of a plot or central character. Deutschman stumbled on the subject matter to produce a West Coast version of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, but he seems to lack the creative instincts. He tells us too much and too little about himself, as if he can't decide how much of a presence he should have in his story. That said, his tidbits on the French Laundry ("an excerise in literary and aesthetic showmanship"), the Russian River Valley ("summer camp for the Castro District"), Lake Tahoe's Incline Village as a tax haven ("Incline Village is to Californians what Monaco is to Europeans") and where to hang out if you want to meet Sonoma's locals (the Irish pub and the Farmer's Market) are some of the many little gems that make the book worthwhile. Deutschman has a good eye and a good ear. I hope the next time he asks himself WWTWD - What Would Tom Wolfe Do? - and does it.

The book is GREAT! I have visited Napa and Sonoma frequently since 1968 and Alan tells this absorbing story in a facinating and entertaining way.

Only problem I have personally is his assessment of "Baron" Hazrathy. WHO convicted him of embezzelment?

He was vindicated and his cost of the trip to Eurpoe to bring back great vines was NEVER reimbursed as promised by the CA legislature....which seems to indicate this austere body was as duplicitous then as they are now!

Janet Maslin's review in the New York Times called this book enjoyably wry and amusing and compared it to a young Tom Wolfe, and she's got a point. The book is light and entertaining, a compelling fast read filled with colorful characters. There's the man who spends $500,000 on a single bottle of wine, and the vintner with a barnful of vintage Porsches, Ferraris, and Bentleys on his Napa "farm," and the community activists who fight so that dozens of chickens can wander freely through the town square in Sonoma. The book gives an eye-opening insider's look at the wine country and shows what visitors rarely see when they come for a day of wine tasting or a weekend getaway at an inn or resort. The tone is humorous and bemused but the book also raises real issues about growth and development and direct democracy and how can we try to preserve the natural beauty and character of a place as more people flock to live there and threaten to ruin it.

This book is so awesome! I'm not normally drawn to non-fiction titles, and I was worried that a book about wine would be stuffy. But it's so not! Reading A TALE OF TWO VALLEYS is like watching a juicy episode of your favorite reality TV show, only better, because with this classy book in hand there's no need to be embarrassed. AND this book even gave me the courage to drink my tacky white zinfandel with pride. All wine is good wine, and this book is a delightfully fruity swallow!

I suggest a new subtitle: "Wine, Wealth, and Enough Filler to Stretch a Feature Article into a Book Deal"

This book could be summer reading for a 5th grader, but if you've read Napa or East of Eden, you probably have higher expectations for the proffered subject matter. A Tale of Two Valleys will leave you wanting (particularly a refund).

I've always loved visiting Napa and Sonoma valleys. They're on my short list of the most beautiful places in the world. Yes, they're a bit dusty and dry, but that's what you need for good wine.

This book tells the story of the people who live in the valleys. I think some may think that the book is a bit gossipy, but that's only because it tries to really tell us about the people. They are quite human and very driven. The book tells us about the battles over the chickens the in the town square, the battles over the price of land, the fights over who builds the biggest home, and the list goes on. Along the way, Deutschman tells us little things about the people that keep the book real. Robert Mondavi, for instance, had a backache one year at the big charity auction and this kept him from playing to the crowd as he had in the past. This insight can only come from a truly sensitive writer who is committed to helping the readers see people as they are. We should be thankful that he's given us this chance to travel to wine country, if only for a few hours.