The Winemaker's Wife

“She hadn’t gotten used to the constant chill, as if the seasons aboveground ceased to exist, and she had never adjusted to the way the wind sometimes howled at the main entrance to the caves, a sound that made her think of the ghosts and wolves of fairy tales.”

In this moment, the narrator uses folkloric imagery to create a feeling of division between two worlds. This description shows Inès’s otherness in a place that is comfortable and familiar to the people around her. The line communicates Inès’s imagination, inexperience, and youth while also hinting at an “aboveground” and “underground” world within the wartime social context.

“A month after Inès had arrived at the Maison Chauveau, she’d overheard Céline whispering to Theo that Inès’s constant optimism grated on her because it was so unrealistic. After that, Inès had at least understood the exasperated looks that Céline sometimes cast her way.”

Inès and Céline are presented in direct juxtaposition with each other, particularly in their worldviews. Inès wants to see the world as a place filled with good people and possibilities while Céline is afraid that denying the darkness in the world will endanger herself and her loved ones. This moment marks the slow beginning of the understanding that grows between them over the course of their journey.

“He and Theo had been almost like brothers for a time, although since war had been declared in September, Céline had seen a growing distance between them. Theo wanted to pretend nothing was happening, while Michel was determined to look the future square in the eye, even if it was frightening and uncertain.”

Michel and Theo are foil characters who act in parallel to Inès and Céline. Inès and Theo both view the world through a narrow, personal lens while Michel and Céline both see the coming changes in a broader scope. While the war ultimately brings Inès and Céline closer, it pushes Michel and Theo apart and creates a divide between who people were before the war and who they will become.

“When you’re young, you see only the future. When you grow older, you see the past. […] And the past has a way of showing you things clearly, whether you like it or not.”

Grandma Edith is a character presented in juxtaposition with both her granddaughter and her own younger self. Here, she illustrates how she has grown and learned from her experiences. Her tragedy is that she has learned these lessons too late to save young Inès from the fate that awaits her, but she hopes to use her wisdom to guide Olivia onto a better path.

“In the end, Michel spent just three days in prison in Reims, and he described it afterward as a jolly affair, for the cells were full of winemakers who had been arrested for the same offense.”

Although this moment is lighthearted, it represents a turning point for Michel, as he finds solidarity and community in the resistance. It also shows how everyday people, such as farmers and craftsmen, found small ways to support their country and rise against the German occupation. The winemakers find strength in their heritage, in their land, and in each other.

“As she finally drifted off into a troubled sleep, she wondered what it meant that Edith had decided to resist, while Inès only wanted to keep life as it was before the war. Was Edith making a mistake? Or was Inès a fool for believing that she bore no responsibility to protect France?”

While contemporary World War II literature is filled with wartime heroes, the reality is that many, like Inès and Theo, wanted to focus on the joys of everyday life. Inès becomes an “everyman” representing the strength of the common person during this time. This section of the novel marks the beginning of her growth as she learns to care for something greater than herself.

“She recognized Michel’s voice, and then Céline’s high-pitched laughter. Something shifted in Inès, and she gripped the counter to steady herself. Michel was laughing now, too, the deep sound of it drifting in through the windowpane. Anger dug its spikes into Inès’s skin.”

This early reference to Inès’s anger foreshadows her loss of control later in the novel. Her suspicions at this point are mostly instinctual and unconscious, but they create space for more problems to grow later on. This moment acts as a microcosm of the larger, decisive climax of the story.

“War has a way of revealing who we really are.”

This line of dialogue, spoken by Céline, is a thematic statement for the novel as a whole. The influence of the war directly or indirectly affects each of the characters in different ways, forcing them to examine their own weaknesses and strengths. By the end of the story, this statement has come true for each of them in both positive and negative ways.

“[I]f we do not stand up to injustice now, who do we become? We are French, Céline, and that means we fight for liberty. For equality. For brotherhood.”

This is a reference to the official motto of France: “Liberté, égalité, fraternité.” Here, it represents more than three ideas; instead, it is symbolic of the country itself, French values, and the community built within this space. The implication is that when the French people stopped standing against the occupation, they lost their identity. Thus, the resistance was in many ways France’s reclamation of selfhood.

“By the time a clean-shaven man with slick silver hair and a perfectly tailored gray suit sat down beside her and said bonsoir, the world was fuzzy, and Inès was finally at ease.”

Inès struggles with alcohol misuse all her life. This moment illustrates the danger of using alcohol as a coping mechanism because of how it compromises her judgment. Although it leads to a grievous mistake, it creates a comforting feeling of ease and provides a momentary escape.

“It felt disloyal to be criticizing her husband’s position on the Occupation, but at home, she wasn’t allowed to have an opinion. Here, this virtual stranger seemed interested to hear what she had to say. The feeling that he cared about her thoughts was more exhilarating than she would have imagined.”

Inès feels she isn’t seen by those she cares about, including Edith and Michel, and this leads her to seek validation in Antoine. In getting what she desires most from Antoine, Inès forms an intense but misguided emotional bond with a dangerous man.

“[A]s Theo’s gaze met Inès’s in the lamplight, she thought she recognized something familiar there, an expression of being overlooked, bypassed for something better, just as she had been. But then he turned away, and the look was gone.”

Although Theo and Inès never truly connect, they recognize each other as victims of betrayal. Despite their lack of true friendship, they understand each other’s struggle as they try to hold onto the lives that they have built.

“Her voice was sweet, her mannerisms rough, and as always, Céline was fascinated by all the contrasts that seemed to exist within the same woman. Then again, Céline knew better than anyone that people had multiple sides.”

This connects to the idea that war reveals a person’s true nature, which is inevitably multifaceted and complex. The women of the novel in particular exhibit seemingly contradictory personality traits that illustrate their humanity and growth.

“Their notebooks were filled with words like tart berries, bread dough, gravel, smoke. It was beyond Inès how they managed to taste such nuance when she could only taste fermented grapes.”

Sensory descriptions play an important role in historical fiction because they anchor the story to a particular place and time. In this novel, food, drink, and the land associated with them are integral to the plot and character arcs. As Inès is introduced into a sensory space with which she has no experience, the reader is introduced to this world as well. This moment also contrasts with one later in the novel in which Inès buys a vintage bottle of this wine and can enjoy it with new appreciation.

“But she wondered, as Edith walked back into the parlor with a blanket and pillow, whether she would be permanently marked by the choice she’d made with Antoine. Was it possible that one sin could stain your soul forever?”

Inès spends her life trying to atone in various ways for her past mistakes. Until her death, she believes her “stain” is fixed and immutable despite the good she has done. It’s not until she is reunited with Michel in the afterlife that she finally reaches a point of self-forgiveness.

“Inès stared at her hands for a long time in silence. They were hands that had betrayed her husband, but they were also hands that were capable of saving lives, and there was power in that.”

This moment connects with Céline’s earlier observation of people having multiple sides. Here, Inès embodies both the past and the future; she acknowledges her mistakes while also acknowledging the potential to make different choices as she moves into the future.

“It was tradition to begin bottling the wines the day the springtime moon rose in the sky; for hundreds of years, winemakers in Champagne had believed that the power of the lunar cycle drew the bubbles into the bottles.”

In this moment, Michel and the other winemakers connect with their regional and spiritual heritage. Champagne-making is an integral part of Michel and Theo’s identity, and through it they share a deep connection to the land. By referencing a local tradition, the novel illustrates the importance of the community’s past.

“We all suffer losses. But it is how we choose to move ahead that matters, isn’t it? We must honor the past without turning our backs on the future.”

The novel creates numerous connections between past and present, not only through the dual timelines but also through the winemaking heritage and the dynamic growth several characters undergo. Although Inès and Céline both try to make better choices, each acknowledges that their past has been integral in shaping who they’ve become.

“She also knew, with equal certainty, that her own sins had brought them to this moment, a moment somehow inevitable from the first time she had kissed Michel, the first time she had pushed away her doubts and let herself fall in love with someone who was never meant to be hers.”

Although Céline blames herself for the catastrophic events that take place, she also goes on to state that she can’t bring herself to regret being in love. In this way, she both takes responsibility for the past and allows herself to honor it. At this pivotal moment, her life is split into a distinct before and after as she is removed from her home; her past and future are irrevocably split apart, yet she acknowledges that they both remain a part of her.

“I think I needed to get away from Eric, miles away, to realize that I don’t really miss him at all. I miss being me. Somehow along the way, I let myself be erased, and I don’t ever want to do that again.”

Toward the end of Liv’s journey, she comes to realize the power of destructive, unbalanced relationships. Although she finds a new partner, her evolution and growth come from her re-emergence of self. The space she needs is both literal and metaphorical, as being in France helps her disconnect from an emotionally abusive past.

“Survival at Auschwitz had depended on her ability to fool herself, to cling to hope, to live in her dreams rather than in the real world. She couldn’t trust her own gut anymore, because her insides had been hollowed out long ago.”

In this moment, Céline illustrates the power of dreaming and hoping despite impossible odds. However, she also sees that this can become a trap that hides the realities of the world. Ironically, this was the trait she found most jarring in Inès upon their first meeting; now, their positions have reversed as Céline tries to rebuild the life she once had.

“All of them—Inès and Céline, too—had played a part in making the wine that year, and as Inès popped the cork in the living room with shaky hands, she felt as if she were holding something that belonged to another age, another reality.”

This moment illustrates how food and drink have the power to capture a particular time and place, not just in regards to terroir (the wine-growing region and its ecology), but through scent, memory, and taste. By opening and appreciating the champagne, Inès is reconnecting with that moment in time and the hopes and beliefs she once held.

“She wondered if the vines she could see now were descendants of the ones Michel had once cultivated so carefully. Even if they weren’t, certainly they carried a piece of him. His blood had spilled here, seeped into the soil, become part of the earth itself before the Nazis had hauled him away.”

Much of the winemaking tradition explored in the novel comes from creating a deep, symbiotic relationship with the land. This moment concisely displays the cyclical nature of Michel’s relationship with his vineyard: He cultivated the plants that grew there, then eventually left part of himself behind in the earth.