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Feature Article
Old Power and New Directions in the Wine Culture: The case of Robert Parker
Author Elin McCoy shares some thoughts about the subject of her book, “The Emperor of Wine”
by
Alan Goldfarb
October 14, 2005
Wine columnist and author Elin McCoy spent 12 hours -- from 8 in the morning until 8 at night -- traveling up and down Napa Valley’s roads, visiting wineries with powerful wine critic Robert Parker.
At Staglin, McCoy writes in her recently published “The Emperor of Wine: The Rise of Robert M. Parker Jr. and the Reign of American Taste (Ecco),” that when the critic “pressed the buzzer in the stone pillar… Shari Staglin’s disembodied voice replied, ‘Great, could you bring the newspaper up with you?’ The emperor of wine rolled his eyes at me, as if to say, ‘See, I’m not such a big deal after all,’ laughed, and picked up the paper.”
When Parker tastes, McCoy writes, “He usually asked questions about oak. If he knew a winery used only 50 percent new oak and the barrel sample tasted excessively oaky, he knew they’d heard that he likes lots of oak and had doctored the sample. ‘When that happens,’” he said, ‘I won’t review the wine. Screw it.’”
In conclusion, McCoy surmised, “On the road with Parker, it was glaringly evident how powerful he’d become. For all, Parker’s blessing was useful even if they didn’t need to be saved from bankruptcy. The flip side to being discovered was suddenly being dropped.”
Such power. Such command. Such fear Robert Parker instills. Is that why, I asked McCoy, you call him “The Emperor of Wine?”
“When you have somebody who has such a global reach in terms of power, you tend to think of this as more than a king or more than just somebody who is even a critic. You try to think of them as ruling something,” she told me.
“In so many ways, Parker’s reach in terms of all aspects of influencing the wine world, I think of him as being like an emperor. There are characteristics in Parker himself in the way he’s sensitive to criticism and the way he has a level of certainty. That is what emperor’s do.”
Is that description a veiled attempt to imply that the emperor has no clothes?
“There’s a certain implication of that,” McCoy admitted, “but I like to let people draw things from the story itself… and that people would draw from that, that having an infallible palate is a myth. No one can have that.”
I asked McCoy if her use of the word “rise” meant that she thought there is a “fall” coming?
“I deliberately ended the book without trying to make a prediction. That’s always very dangerous,” she responded, but added, “There will never be another single individual in the wine world with the power of Robert Parker.”
“Right now, he’s on a plateau. It’s hard to see how he can become more powerful. … I’m not saying there’s going to be fall like Napoleon that is sudden and dramatic. I see it more as a wearing away (and) I don’t know how soon that would happen.”
What does McCoy mean by a “Reign of American Taste?”
“The American marketplace is the most important in the world,” she answered. “There’s this shift toward America in terms of the potential of this market. People pay attention what they need to do to be in that market. There have been a lot of shifts, not just to please Parker, (but) a level of “cleanliness” (in the wines) if you will.”
“… Parker couldn’t have attained the power that he has if he weren’t an American, and an American in a certain point and time.”
When I interviewed Parker last October and when I asked him how he deals with the power he has, he told me that he didn’t seek that power. What did McCoy think about the notion of his not seeking power?
“I asked Parker about power. He always says, I don’t have it, or I have it and there isn’t as much as you think, or I have it but there’s nothing I can do about it, I didn’t seek it. And, I didn’t try to be as powerful as I am now,” she said, paraphrasing her subject.
But she said, “he wanted everybody to read his newsletter and he’s done an amazing number of things to promote himself. … Obviously he wants the impact and he wants to have people listening to him.”
“It’s always seemed a little bit disingenuous of him when he tells people he doesn’t seek power. Of course he enjoys this power. To be fair to him, did he seek to have as much power as he has? No. But did he want some power and be important and to be taken seriously and to be followed? Yes, and he still does.”
“When you have this much power, you have to be responsible… power affects lives no matter how people wield it. … I think Parker tries. I think he thinks he’s being responsible by being very exacting about the way he tastes and by giving everybody an equal chance.”
In the end, does she like Robert Parker?
“Yes and no,” she began. “I find him a very sympathetic character. There’s a part of me that feels he’s so American. He couldn’t be anything but American. That’s very likeable and engaging. I admire that ambition. I admire that, I’m going to tell it the way I see it. The fact that Bob Parker is not afraid to be emotional, I find that very appealing, especially in men.”
“(But) everybody has their flaws and Bob Parker has flaws. If he didn’t have power and so much power, his flaws would only matter to his friends.”
After our conversation, McCoy e-mailed to clarify her answer to my query as to whether or not she likes Parker. “Mainly,” she wrote, “the answer is yes.”
But she believes, “Parker is really two people -- the man and the icon or brand. I find Parker good company, smart, generous, amusing, and loyal. He is fun to be around.”
“On the negative side I am troubled by the side of him that is thin-skinned, occasionally vindictive, and by his reaction to criticism and the way he attacks other writers who do criticize him or disagree with him. …On the icon or brand side, I am very ambivalent, and I think that, as I point out in the book, he has had both a positive and a negative effect on the wine world.”
At Staglin, McCoy writes in her recently published “The Emperor of Wine: The Rise of Robert M. Parker Jr. and the Reign of American Taste (Ecco),” that when the critic “pressed the buzzer in the stone pillar… Shari Staglin’s disembodied voice replied, ‘Great, could you bring the newspaper up with you?’ The emperor of wine rolled his eyes at me, as if to say, ‘See, I’m not such a big deal after all,’ laughed, and picked up the paper.”
When Parker tastes, McCoy writes, “He usually asked questions about oak. If he knew a winery used only 50 percent new oak and the barrel sample tasted excessively oaky, he knew they’d heard that he likes lots of oak and had doctored the sample. ‘When that happens,’” he said, ‘I won’t review the wine. Screw it.’”
In conclusion, McCoy surmised, “On the road with Parker, it was glaringly evident how powerful he’d become. For all, Parker’s blessing was useful even if they didn’t need to be saved from bankruptcy. The flip side to being discovered was suddenly being dropped.”
Such power. Such command. Such fear Robert Parker instills. Is that why, I asked McCoy, you call him “The Emperor of Wine?”
“When you have somebody who has such a global reach in terms of power, you tend to think of this as more than a king or more than just somebody who is even a critic. You try to think of them as ruling something,” she told me.
“In so many ways, Parker’s reach in terms of all aspects of influencing the wine world, I think of him as being like an emperor. There are characteristics in Parker himself in the way he’s sensitive to criticism and the way he has a level of certainty. That is what emperor’s do.”
Is that description a veiled attempt to imply that the emperor has no clothes?
“There’s a certain implication of that,” McCoy admitted, “but I like to let people draw things from the story itself… and that people would draw from that, that having an infallible palate is a myth. No one can have that.”
I asked McCoy if her use of the word “rise” meant that she thought there is a “fall” coming?
“I deliberately ended the book without trying to make a prediction. That’s always very dangerous,” she responded, but added, “There will never be another single individual in the wine world with the power of Robert Parker.”
“Right now, he’s on a plateau. It’s hard to see how he can become more powerful. … I’m not saying there’s going to be fall like Napoleon that is sudden and dramatic. I see it more as a wearing away (and) I don’t know how soon that would happen.”
What does McCoy mean by a “Reign of American Taste?”
“The American marketplace is the most important in the world,” she answered. “There’s this shift toward America in terms of the potential of this market. People pay attention what they need to do to be in that market. There have been a lot of shifts, not just to please Parker, (but) a level of “cleanliness” (in the wines) if you will.”
“… Parker couldn’t have attained the power that he has if he weren’t an American, and an American in a certain point and time.”
When I interviewed Parker last October and when I asked him how he deals with the power he has, he told me that he didn’t seek that power. What did McCoy think about the notion of his not seeking power?
“I asked Parker about power. He always says, I don’t have it, or I have it and there isn’t as much as you think, or I have it but there’s nothing I can do about it, I didn’t seek it. And, I didn’t try to be as powerful as I am now,” she said, paraphrasing her subject.
But she said, “he wanted everybody to read his newsletter and he’s done an amazing number of things to promote himself. … Obviously he wants the impact and he wants to have people listening to him.”
“It’s always seemed a little bit disingenuous of him when he tells people he doesn’t seek power. Of course he enjoys this power. To be fair to him, did he seek to have as much power as he has? No. But did he want some power and be important and to be taken seriously and to be followed? Yes, and he still does.”
“When you have this much power, you have to be responsible… power affects lives no matter how people wield it. … I think Parker tries. I think he thinks he’s being responsible by being very exacting about the way he tastes and by giving everybody an equal chance.”
In the end, does she like Robert Parker?
“Yes and no,” she began. “I find him a very sympathetic character. There’s a part of me that feels he’s so American. He couldn’t be anything but American. That’s very likeable and engaging. I admire that ambition. I admire that, I’m going to tell it the way I see it. The fact that Bob Parker is not afraid to be emotional, I find that very appealing, especially in men.”
“(But) everybody has their flaws and Bob Parker has flaws. If he didn’t have power and so much power, his flaws would only matter to his friends.”
After our conversation, McCoy e-mailed to clarify her answer to my query as to whether or not she likes Parker. “Mainly,” she wrote, “the answer is yes.”
But she believes, “Parker is really two people -- the man and the icon or brand. I find Parker good company, smart, generous, amusing, and loyal. He is fun to be around.”
“On the negative side I am troubled by the side of him that is thin-skinned, occasionally vindictive, and by his reaction to criticism and the way he attacks other writers who do criticize him or disagree with him. …On the icon or brand side, I am very ambivalent, and I think that, as I point out in the book, he has had both a positive and a negative effect on the wine world.”
