The battling brilliance of Burgundy

There is only one answer to the question ‘Burgundy or claret?’ ‘Yes, but never in the same glass.’ Yet I am about to make an observation which cannot be true. I think that good Burgundy sets the conversation ranging widely in a way that claret does not equal. If one was a mystic, there would be an easy explanation. Bordeaux is a fine culture; Burgundy, a transcendent civilisation, whose glories express the paradoxes of the human condition. Over the centuries, Burgundy often revelled in grandeur: equally often, relapsed into misery (consider the career of Charles le Temeraire, who came close to becoming a Burgundian Charles XII). The highest expressions of its genius nourish the illusion that man can transcend his limitations. That is indeed an illusion.

As always, where les douceurs de vie flourish, war follows. Indeed, warfare has an advantage. Developments in artistic technique do not always lead to improvements in quality.