I Drink Therefore I Am: A Philosopher's Guide to Wine [Hardcover]

This book stayed unopened on my bookcase for a few weeks, as I expected it to be slight in content.

But, per bacco, what a surprise it turned out to be!

Scruton's is a mind that glows and this book distills a lifetime of intellectual adventure, with insights into French culture, Hindu philsophy, the breakdown of western society, and many other areas - all linked (usually tongue-in-cheek, or rather nose poised over glass) by the mystical presence of wine.

This is a deceptively deep book, an exciting read, and the best possible justification for the virtuous consumption of wine.

In this book conservative philosopher and composer, Roger Scruton seeks to combine his interest in philosophy with his love of wine. He laments the passing of the Greek "symposiums" where wine was drunk and important issues discussed. The book is certainly interesting, but it is not the jolly, "good humoured antidote to the pretentious clap-trap" that the publishers promise. At least not until the appendix where he suggests what to drink while reading major philosophers' works with is very funny and well written.

He begins by recognising two people influential in his own discovery of wine, which read a little like appreciative retirement speeches to the two gentlemen concerned. He then moves on to discussing in detail French wines and then more briefly other wine regions. Here Scruton's knowledge and enthusiasm are evident, but he is something of a wine `buff' and there is plenty of wine-speak in evidence. Thus he suggests that `the best accompaniment to a bottle of fine old white Hermitage is a clay-baked hedgehog' and if you `roll the name Maillol in your mouth while imagining well-shaped buttocks and well-matured wine, and you won't be far from the taste of Collioure'. Not much of the promise of `an antidote to clap-trap' evident here, then.

In the second half, things get more interesting as he turns to philosophy and the role of wine and the implications of certain ideas to wine. Scruton is one of those writers who lets much of their character and opinion infuse his writing. He is unashamedly right wing, pro-France (and most other wine producters, especially American ones compare poorly in his view), anti-EU and largely un-`PC', and at times his views may cause mild offence to the more sensitive reader (the anti-fox hunting and modern Islamic views on alcohol get short shrift), albeit with some nice dry humour in parts (he suggests that the rich contribute to the well-being of the world by consuming the most expensive wines and converting it by natural processes to something that will benefit the soil).

But the greatest joy of this book is the appendix where he suggests what wines to drink with different philosophers' works. It is irreverent and funny, but at the same time, wise. This, finally, fulfills the promise of the publisher's jacket notes. I would unreservedly award this chapter a five star rating.

Roger Scruton is an oddity. A conservative intellectual (perhaps, that should be prefixed with the definite article), he offers a curiously recidivist philosophy, nostalgic for a past that never really existed anyway. It is easy to dismiss him as many do as an anachronistic fox hunting old fart. But that would be a grave mistake, for Scruton actually has much to say in his quirky highbrow style, about the smashed pint glass of modern culture.

Scruton is unapologetic in his commitment to the civilised life. Yes, he lets himself down occasionally by his taking of bribes from Japanese cigarette manufacturers to write pro smoking articles in the media, but his philosophy is in the Spinoza tradition - an attempt to locate man in his proper place as a creature of society and community, with longings and desires that cannot be satisfied by the hedonistic transience of everyday life.

Not that Scruton is against hedonism, mind you. This book is a testament to his love of literature, philosophy, wine and the life of the mind. Scruton knows his wine, and offers a cheeky and learned defence of the grape with this eloquent disquisition on the emotions and thoughts that good wine can produce in us. Like the diminished seventh of the Tristan chord in Wagner, Scruton finds his pleasures on higher ground than the majority of people. He is very much Mill's Socrates dissatisfied than a pig satisfied. And we owe him a glass for that.

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