I’ve just discovered a thriller writer called Jo Nesbo. Given the fact that this Norwegian author has sold some 25m copies of his books across the globe over the last decade or so, I guess I’m quite a late arrival at his party. I’d seen his name on the spines of paperbacks on friends’ bookshelves but never got around to buying one for myself - until I saw a copy in pile of novels in a charity shop. What caught my eye, apart from the name of the book and the author, was the brief message on the cover: “the next Stieg Larsson”.
These four words - validated to be fair, by the name of the respected newspaper in which they’d first appeared - gave me a very clear idea of the kind of book I was holding. If Scandi-Noir was the kind of thing I liked, this was a thing I’d probably like.
Publishers who resemble wine producers and distributors in their limited marketing resources, routinely exploit this style of cross-selling. Apart from printing critical references to other similar writers, as in this case, they endeavour to get well known authors to give newcomers a leg up with a few words of their own. In their ideal world, Mr Nesbo’s book would have come with a quote from Larsson himself, saying something like, ‘the best new book I’ve read this year’.
In a 2011 Washington Post profile, coinciding with the US publication of The Snowman, the book I happen to be reading, Nesbo reveals that he does not appreciate the references to Larssen. Apart from being a novelist, he also has had a successful career as a footballer and rock singer; he’d rather be taken on his own merits.
But, as Monica Hesse, writer of the profile noted, none of Nesbo’s books before The Snowman sold well in the US. “It’s… likely that this book is garnering so much attention because it’s the first of Nesbo’s to come to the States since the Larssonization of American bookstores.”
So what has this to do with wine? Well, our business is similarly complex as the world of publishing. There are hundreds of thousands of books out there to choose from, most of which come burdened with unfamiliar names. The novels and biographies have a clear advantage over the bottles because prospective buyers can leaf through a few pages to see if the style of writing appeals to them. Nowadays, this is even possible when shopping online. With wine, however, unless you’re shopping in a store with a lot of open bottles, you’ll have no idea of how it’s going to taste until you pull the cork.
But you don’t need to open most books to get an idea of what they have to offer. Setting aside those traditional Gallic publishing houses that still like to put all of their works behind the same neutral cover, most printed works now come with an image or typography that have been chosen to reflect the style of the work.
Apart from any critical reviews, on the back-cover there will also be a paragraph or two describing what the book is about, and possibly saying something about the author.
Compare this to the average bottle of wine whose back label might, if it reveals anything at all, tell you that the estate has been in the same family since 1650 and that, having been made from white grapes, the contents will be a decent partner for fish or white meat. If there’s any kind of description of the wine’s flavour, the likelihood is that it was bought inexpensively and in a supermarket.
Would it be so unthinkable to sticker wines from less well known regions and grapes with references to other better known ones? Why might one not similarly sticker bottles with descriptive comments rather than medal stickers and scores?
But we could go further. In the front of my copy of The Snowman, there is a page headed ‘Also by Jo Nesbo’ listing other works I might enjoy. Many other books these days offer the chance to read the first chapter of the author’s latest novel. What efforts do we as winemakers make to tell our customers that the bottle they are holding is just one of a range? That this red has a white and possibly a pink sibling?
Jo Nesbo may not like being compared to Stieg Larsson but he was not averse to the idea of a publisher sticking the next Nordic Noir with “Read this if you like Jo Nesbo.” How would the owners of Bollinger or Pol Roger, for example, feel if an English winery were to follow a similar strategy?
Robert Joseph
