Abstract
James Pennell’s new book, Local Vino: The Winery Boom in the Heartland, is the first book to situate the role of Midwestern vineyards, wineries, and the folks that own them in the context of public sociology. This became apparent when a small group of sociologists discussed the book during a session at the 2017 meeting of the North Central Sociological Association. I was a member of that panel, and I am a self-avowed wine enthusiast. I teach a course called “Wine and Culture.” It probably helps that my son, a cider and winemaker in the Finger Lakes, has fostered the development of my network and knowledge. Through him, I first became aware of the challenges experienced by fruit farmers in the United States, and how many are reinventing the family-owned fruit farm. Now, Pannell’s book consisting of eight chapters with captivating photos makes that story accessible to scholars and the general public.
While this is not the first academic or even sociological book on wine, it is the first to provide a dissection of the Midwest wine industry, a public sociology (Burawoy, 2005). Unlike other books such as Black and Ulin’s (2013) reader, which is a global look at wine and culture, Pennell introduces the reader to the daily labor of the people who make the experience possible for the public. In Chapters 4 and 5, we get a glimpse “back stage” that challenges the reader—both scholars and wine enthusiasts alike—to put down the stemware and get some metaphorical dirt under their nails to truly appreciate the politics and passion that goes into every bottle they joyfully consume.
Pennell centers the winery as an experience for individuals that transcends the quality and taste of wine. In Chapter 3, he identifies two distinct consumers in the United States: Those who love wine and those who use wine to be social. The later usually require sensory stimuli in addition to or instead of wine. This consumer is attracted by the overall atmospherics which may include food, music, beer or hard cider, a cool facility, and perhaps a couple of alpaca. This group is influenced by the experience alone despite wine quality.
Much of Pennell’s book is clearly about the construction of the wine industry’s identity. Compared to the global market addressed in Chapter 8, Chapter 7 provides evidence that local wine is as “real” as any foreign made wines, which historically have been taken more seriously. In other words, his book helps legitimate local wine. Through narratives, readers are introduced to the individuals who live this craft as well as the legal challenges vintners face, such as labeling laws defining the wine and shipping restrictions determining where and how a wine can be sold.
In Chapter 6, readers learn about the collaborative community made up of Midwest viticulturists (farmers) and winery owners who work together to develop this industry, to lobby for control of their craft and to problem solve. In team-like fashion, they collaborate to deal with seasonal uncertainties and environmental issues. Together, they actively engage in the stability of their communities. For example, sometimes the opening of a winery contributes to the economy thereby saving a small rural village from obsolescence.
For whom is this book written? It is ideal for those interested in going into the wine business. After all, that is the purpose of public sociology (Gans, 2016). From an applied perspective, Pennell has identified many pitfalls and challenges winery owners face in the Midwest. In their own words, these entrepreneurs and pioneers inform, even warn against romantic notions often perpetuated by glossy magazine photos, wine trail maps, and films like Sideways. This is the real story told by Pennell in the words of those living the experience and from his own perspective as a volunteer laborer working alongside farmers and vintners. I also envision using this book in the college classroom for undergraduate courses on wine and culture or graduate courses on qualitative research methods, public sociology, and global comparative sociology.
What’s missing in the book? Not much. If you are looking for stories of glamour and overnight success where fancy people live the dream and discuss the bouquet of a 50-year-old Tawny you have the wrong book. This is reality. The book could have spent more time deconstructing the gender discrepancies in the industry, which remains male-dominated. Pennell does discuss this in a page or two, but we know women really are good at math and science and that some are willing to get dirty, so it would be valuable to challenge why they remain underrepresented as oenologists, vintners, and proprietors (unless married to a male in the industry). In all fairness, perhaps that is a completely different book yet to be written. Pennell also attempted to address race, but frankly the industry remains predominately white. Even so, the book overlooked the most successful African American winery owner in Ohio. In the very near future, it will be more important than ever before to address race and immigration in terms of the impact on vineyard labor, employment, and profit margins in the Midwest and elsewhere in the United States. After all, the Port is political.