The Billionaire’s Vinegar – Benjamin Wallace

In Paperback from Amazon.com for $10.17

Buy it if: You feel like living vicariously (and viniculturally) through those who consider an ’82 Haut-Brion young and affordable

Don’t buy it if: You consider anything beyond $9 Yellow Tail Shiraz an overpriced extravagance… Or if you happen to own a $27,000 1899 Chateau d’Yquem of questionable provenance!

As with wine, there are a half dozen different reasons a reader could enjoy The Billionaire’s Vinegar. Or dislike it for that matter. Though named for what was, at the time, the most expensive bottle of wine ever purchased, the subject is really much broader than that. And author Benjamin Wallace spends 300+ pages delving into the many twisted and deceptive paths that ancient wines tread before they are ever actually uncorked. For these treasures are not simply bottled, cataloged and placed in a cellar to await someone with money to burn and a fancy corkscrew. Instead they are squirreled away, traded at auction, packed across continents or – if your faith remains by the end of the book – buried in hidden cellars around Paris and the rest of the world.

The titular 1787 'Thomas Jefferson' Lafite purchased by Malcom Forbes is actually only one of a host of antique wines to make an appearance. While it may be the quintessential example of how much some fabulously wealthy collectors are willing to shell out for a piece of drinkable history ($156,450 for those keeping score…) it is only one of dozens that protagonist Harry Rodenstock – who displays apparent Indiana Jones-like veracity in unearthing these bottled treasures – sold over the course of a decade and a half. Some show up at hedonistic tasting dinners that would make Robin Leach blush, while others find their way to the auction blocks of Christie’s and Sotheby’s or directly into the cellars of the super-rich. But by the midway point of the book it is obvious that all are tainted by the stench of suspicion.

As with the best mysteries, fiction or otherwise, it’s the characters in The Billionaire’s Vinegar that move it beyond a simple question of ‘is it or isn’t it.’ From Rodenstock’s shifty dealings, to lauded wine expert-cum-unwitting-accomplice Michael Broadbent's spearheading of auctions, Wallace includes a number of personalities in the wine world’s quest to discover (or remain blissfully ignorant of) the true origins of these ultra-rare bottles. By the conclusion, a Jefferson historian, carbon-dating expert and eccentric publisher will all have joined the fray. Though I’d venture to say the book’s greatest failing is its inability to offer a definite conclusion, the immensely deep and varied cast more than makes up for it.

Fair warning, before the book's end you will almost certainly be tempted to visit your local merchant with a Bordeaux-laden shopping list, if only to get a taste for the modern version of the treasures discussed. But it will be well worth it. The biggest fringe benefit of Wallace’s volume is a deepened appreciation for the history, craftsmanship and mystique inherent to the world’s most important wine region. So pour a glass, sniff deeply, sip and enjoy a pastime shared with monarchs, tycoons and presidents. Even those of us with modest means may take pleasure in the simple joys of good wine and a well-told story.

Sum – David Eagleman

Buy it if: You find the phrase ‘philosophical, open-minded ponderer’ invigorating. Or have a very short attention span.

Skip it if: You are simply uninterested in hearing about more than one version of the afterlife.

Is heaven little more than a voyeuristic cinema starring the living? Are we condemned to purgatory until every earthbound human soul that recalls our names dies? Will the afterlife contain only those people that we had living interactions with? Perhaps the world is populated by both the living and the dead, with only the deceased aware of the distinction? My friends, David Eagleman provides the following answers: Yes, yes, yes and…yes.

In a brilliant demonstration of inventive perception, Eagleman’s Sum offers forty – Forty! – different hypotheses about what really happens after we slip from this mortal coil. Though they range from wildy inventive to relatively introspective, each description (they’re not really stories) is wholly engrossing and quite neatly bundles its unique explanation in a succinct burst of prose. There’s a theory that portrays the entire human race as nodes in a giant calculation machine while another posits that heavenly entry is divined by committee. None are exceptionally close to a ‘traditional’ view, but many pull from common themes like a divine creator or the sorting of souls between heaven and hell.

Others are a bit more on the edge. One passage mentions casually that God used to keep a home on Earth (a beach house on the Med, naturally) but eventually stopped visiting once he found his time was being unduly monopolized by his creations. Yet another holds that upon death the world appears much the same - minus the crowds -since your afterlife holds only souls that crossed paths with you during your time amongst the living.

Most notably, each of these pieces is short. Like, really short. Somehow, the author manages to create, explain and convince in only two or three pages. It’s a remarkable show of literary efficiency that is matched only by the book’s creativity. The forty different chapters are not separated by shades of difference or varied slants on a philosophy, they are each wholly different. With a depth of ideas that I can only compare to Kurt Vonnegut, the author will almost certainly leave you in a similar state at the end of each one. For me it was a muttered ‘hmmm’ accompanied by the hint of a smile and brief look around my own living (I assume!) world as I wondered about the possibility of this description being true.

And that’s the crux of the book. With all due respect to my readership’s personal beliefs, I have to assume the afterlife remains a mystery to us all. (If you have some inside info, PLEASE get back to me ASAP!) So, though some of the included sections may seem more ‘plausible’ than others, it’s quite interesting to realize that – empirically speaking – each has about the same likelihood of being possible. It’s a guarantee that at least a few of the stories contained within will give you pause and bring a smile to your face. Even more fun, the book is thinner than your worn out copy of Ramona Quimby and can be easily enjoyed in both small sips and big gulps.

Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t admit that I’m obviously I’m sidestepping the religious implications attached to any book about the afterlife…that’s because I want you to keep reading my reviews! This book is nothing more than a collection of words on a page meant provoke thought, which it does quite nicely. That – plus the fact that the paperback edition measures less than a half-inch thick – makes me certain that most or all of you can find a spot for it on your bookshelf.