originally posted by Claude Kolm:
The 1983 version that Levi refers to is not a republication of the 1978 version, but the greatly expanded (from 235 to 383 pages) second edition. Despite the fact that Master's name remained on the second edition, its research and writing were all Livingstone-Learmonth, as Master informs us in the Preface to the Second Edition.
The first edition was a revolutionary book, as very little knowledge was available in print about either the Southern or Northern Rhône at that time. By the time of the second edition, there still was very little information available, other than what Parker was writing. The second edition, along with Kermit Lynch and (unrelated) Mike Lynch, Parker, plus maybe an occasional Gerald Asher column were my guides to the Rhône as I was learning about it in the first half of the 1980s. I remember well the comments about Rayas in the second edition of The Wines of the Rhône, and in fact they caused me to steer clear of the property for many years. Whatever else I've been able to find written about the property at the time (e.g., Hugh Johnson's Encyclopedia of Wine) does not confirm Livingstone-Learmonth's 1983 assessment (the 1978 edition was extremely laudatory, but of course that was written when Louis was still running the estate).
I've never managed to meet Livingstone-Learmonth (I was invited to a reception for him upon the publication of The Wines of the Northern Rhône, but ironically, I was in the Northern Rhône tasting at the time of the reception), and certainly if I did, the 1983 Rayas commentary is one of the things I would ask him about. For now, though, perhaps the closest we can get to an explanation is the following that Remington Norman wrote in his Rhône Renaissance in 1996: "Jacques Reynaud's reputation for eccentricity may not be entirely without foundation. However, beneath what appears to be to many as brusque detachment or sometimes vacant incomprehension, lies an impish sense of humour and deep feeling. His terseness hides a sharp analytical perceptiveness and a profound dislike of stupidity, which is less easily concealed -- hardly surprising in a man who studied Greek and philosophy and can talk knowledgeably on many esoteric subjects." One can imagine that Livingstone-Learmonth's initial visit after Jacques took over got off on the wrong foot and went downhill from there, perhaps exacerbated by an initial learning curve for Jacques, who after all was starting from nil, as the passage Levi quotes concedes.