In Saint-Émilion, Rich and Proud of It

SAINT-ÉMILION, Franceâ€"There is a saying in France: Vivre cachée, vivre heureux; “live hidden, live happily.” It applies especially to the country’s rich people. Not only do public displays of wealth draw the covetous gaze of tax collectors, they are frowned on by a culture that values solidarity.

Jean-Luc Thunevin, a vigneron in this Bordeaux village, whose latest effort to rank its greatest wines I write about in my latest column, has no time for this kind of faux understatement.

“In France, money is considered a bad thing,” he said. “It’s strange. Europe is the only place in the world where we don’t like the rich.”

Mr. Thunevin was complaining variously about the French government’s recent moves to raise taxes, as well as the envy that he and other newcomers here have prompted by making wines that have gone from nowhere to the top ranks of the Bordeaux rankings in only a handfl of years.

Mr. Thunevin’s top wine, Chateau Valandraud, may be the best example of these, because it has been around for only two decadesâ€" a mere blink of the eyes in the eternal world of French wine. For a few years in the late 1990s, after it was discovered by critics, Valandraud was the most expensive wine in Bordeaux.

Others have caught up, but Valandraud still costs 400 euros or so in top vintages. Yes, this has been enough to make Thunevinâ€" he admits it â€" rich. When Valandraud was recently promoted to Premier Grand Cru B status, the second-highest rung in the Saint-Émilion ladder, Mr. Thunevin said his bankers ratcheted up the estimated value of the vineyard to 40 million euros from 15 million.

Mr. Thunevin is certainly an antidote to the pessimism, born of nostalgia, that sometimes seems to hang over French vineyards, despite the recognized greatness of the country’s wines.

“The French always want to say things were better before,” he said. Gesturing tow! ard bottles of Valandraud in his wine shop in Saint-Émilion, he added, rhetorically:

“Were they better before”