Chauvetists or Néauportists?
Science is organized knowledge. Wisdom is organized life.—immanuel kant
Ever since that afternoon in Valvigneres, the name Jacques Néauport kept resurfacing with increasing frequency. It was at the wine bar Le Verre Volé that Jean-Paul Rocher had told me unequivocally to go and see him. A filmmaker in the Loire wrote to me about this fabulous fellow he met, quite agreeable but shy—Jacques Néauport. But when a random e-mail came my way from an itinerant biodynamic student staying in Santa Rosa, telling me that he had decided that Jacques Néauport was going to be my husband, I had to do something proactive. First, however, I declined his matchmaking offer. Sixty-three and living with a mother in a remote town in the hills was not my type. Still, if I needed to find the origin of the natural-wine movement, I had no choice but to return to the Ardéche. Néauport was the most direct living link.
Everyone was on board to help me make contact. Andrea Calek sent me Jacques’s phone number and address, delivering the ultimate blow:“No e-mail.”Worried about how my French would per- form over the phone, I asked Pascaline to give him a call. At precisely 10 A.M. on the next morning, she called me back. I could hear her grinning as she delivered the news.“It would be his plea- sure,” she reported.“By the way, he speaks perfect English, and he invites you to lunch.”