HER OWN LEGACY

A girl is determined to preserve the legacy of her family’s winery in this debut historical novel.

The story opens in 1786 with 12-year-old Joliette de Verzat anticipating her first wine tasting with her grandmother. Joliette’s family presides over the Château de Verzat, a vineyard dating from 1515 that produces the finest wine in France. Her grandmother recognizes that the girl has an unequaled nose for wine and that should her father have a son who would inherit the estate, he would depend on Joliette’s astute instincts. Keen to preserve the legacy herself, Joliette is aware that should her grandmother and parents die before she marries, the estate will fall into the hands of a cousin. The narrative then turns to the tale of Henri Detré, a 13-year-old boy destined to be a tanner. Henri has two dreams: to meet his unknown father and to stow away on a ship headed for America. Civil unrest grumbles as the French Revolution beckons. Joliette strives for stability, but will marriage strip her of her independence? Meanwhile, Henri, neither a Royalist nor “a rioter,” makes a startling discovery about his father’s wealth and position. Borchert’s passionate tale is the first installment of the Château de Verzat series. The story is sufficiently multifaceted and open-ended to allow for further plot developments. The devotion of alternate chapters to the novel’s principal characters creates sustained intrigue as to how their lives may intertwine despite the denouement’s being somewhat predictable. The tale pays close attention to historical details—for instance, the author is aware that before 1802, Place de l’Hôtel-de-Ville was called Place de Grève. Borchert’s writing strives to be sensually observant. At one point, Joliette relates: “I turned my back to the wind and sniffed. Another fruit, besides the grapes. I sniffed again. Peaches?” Unfortunately, the author’s approach is often excessively descriptive; for instance, her characters unnaturally perform multiple gestures in rapid, staccato succession, including in this passage about a friend of Henri’s: “The veins in his arms bulged as he fisted his hands….He raked his fingers through his hair, flicking water….He jerked his head up.” Despite this close observation, the author writes in short paragraphs that, although effervescent, rarely carry meaningful descriptive weight. Whereas the plot ticks along at an enjoyable pace, Borchert’s struggle to realistically animate the characters she creates becomes tedious.

A compelling wine tale that’s hampered by overzealous descriptions.