"You fainted and I caught you. It was the first time I'd supported a human. You had such heavy bones. I put myself between you and gravity. Impossible."
This book had completely passed me by. I had never even heard of the author, and it was not until a friend returned from a year of travelling in South America, that a copy was placed in my hands, with the most heartfelt of recommendations. The cover of my copy (right) did not exactly inspire me, but once I read the first page, I was well and truly engrossed.
The Vintner's Luck is a tale of the divine. But it is also the most human tale I could possible imagine reading. Opening in a French vineyard in 1808, our story follows Sobran, a young man poised on the precipe of manhood, heartbroken at being refused permission to marry the woman he loved. Taking solace in the vineyard with freshly bottled wine, the young Sobran meets a creature who will change his life forever. This particular vintner's "luck" is an angel, one whom agrees to meet Sobran on the same day each year, throughout the man's lifetime. And thus begins the most electrifying, and heartbreaking of relationships.
I could not leave my bed yesterday until I had finished this wonderful novel. That often happens to me when I get gripped by a tale, especially one with such neat, short sections, where it is impossible not to move on to the next! Today I found myself flicking through the book again, savouring some of the more beautiful passages, reminding myself of events and characters that moved me. Xas is so beautifully described, curious about and becoming lost in a world he does not truly understand, and emotions he could not possibly expect. Sobran is so painfully human, capable of overwhelming emotion, and of making all too credible mistakes. And do not let us forget the women in this story, the passionate and possible insane Celeste, and the intelligent and courageous Aurora.
Writing this review, I have found it a struggle to put into words how I feel about this story, so I shall turn to one of my favourite bloggers, Memory, who puts it perfectly..." the book crashed into me...one of those stories that sneaks up on you. You're reading along, utterly convinced that the novel is beautiful without being moving, when suddenly you realize that it's now part of your life. It's in you, and it's going to be with you forever." Through Memory's review I have now discovered that there is a sequel, or rather a continuation of one character's story, and I shall certainly be hunting it down. And Knox it seems has several other novels available, though it is hard to imagine anything that could be more beautiful than this glorious tale.
The friendship between Xas and Sobran is incredibly moving. Though much of the tale describes the divine; referring throughout to God, Lucifer, heaven and hell, it is truly grounded in humanity. Following Sobran's mortal life, we get a glimpse of how it may appear to an immortal, while following the struggle of this one man, in his relationships, with his family, and with the ever-present vineyard itself. For do not forget, this is a tale of that wonderful delight...wine, which permeates even the annual meetings between the man and the angel.
Elizabeth Knox's writing is a joy to read. Simple, but elegant, her descriptions invoke images of the divine, while continually grounding them with all that is human. You can almost taste the wine, feel the gentle midsummer evening sun of your skin, smell the freshly crushed grapes, hear the flutter of feathered wings. There are so many passages I would like to quote, many of which could spoil events that occur, so I will leave you with these few...
"Sobran fell against a warm, firm pillow of muscle. He lay braced by a wing, pure sinew and bone under a cushion of feathers, complicated and accommodating against his side, hip, legs, the pinions split around his ankle. The angel was breathing steadily, and smelled of snow. Sobran's terror was so great that he was calm, a serenity like that a missionary priest had reported having felt when he found himself briefly in the jaws of a lion. There was an interval of warm silence; then Sobran saw that the moon was higher and felt that his pulse and the angel's were walking apace."
"I've learned too much abuout unhappiness. I have it now, a permanent condition, like deafness. When I go out and watch the creamy surf pour into the cove Ican't hear it - I'm not here to hear - or something is crushing the sense out of me all the time. I love you [...], but I'm not coming near you until I stop wanting to burn away this pain with pain."
"I hate the connective tissue in a story. I think of the time I've spend silent or speaking secretively and it seems impossible to me to describe even a short journey, for every step depends on other earlier steps and my whys and wherefores are as infinitesminal as atoms in the scent trails we leave in the air - negligible, not evidence, but there."
"He was exhausted, but love was never finished, it had its rights, it had the right of prophecy."
p.s. this title has now been made into a film.
Other blog reviews:
Stella Matutina
A Striped Armchair
Just Add Books
(have you reviewed this book?)
Marcus Sedgwick seems to be one of the authors that I forget all about, and then I discover another of his books and fall for his writing all over again!
