Dionysus vs. Apollo in the Urban Homestead

Right before imbibing champagne to toast the coming of a new year seems like a good time to reflect on the various veins of viticulture (to be vetted?) for the home garden, particularly for the home garden which includes grapes...

And when you think of wine, surely you think of  "the wine dude," as Nico di Angelo would call him
(see:  The Titan's Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 3) ).

However, as with most things in life, there is a balance to be struck.

And the balancing act is ancient enough to be thought of as a choice between Dionysus and Apollo.

Dionysus was always thought of in ancient Greece as "The Easterner".  Sure, he was Greek and all, but he was "foreign" Greek, not "one of us".  Not being Greek ourselves, we're not sure we can say "one of us" in that way, but you know what we mean.

Dionysus represented wildness, sensuality, abandon, and drunken stupor.  "The Wine Dude", indeed.

Apollo, however, was also (if we are to be frank) a drunkard.  It's just that the contrast was so stark -- Apollonian wine consumption was poetic, not frenetic.  The sensuality, nay, sexuality, of Apollo was a controlled sort of abandon.  With Dionysus, hey, it's not a good time unless it gives you a hangover.  And that's not just about the wine, either.

What does this have to do with gardening?

A lot, as it turns out.  This is because gardens are really a microcosm of everything else that goes on in one's life.  Your garden is an extension of yourself, and as such, it represents your values and your ethos.  A "wildscape" is obviously Dionysian.  It's also ugly as all get-out, and irritates your neighbors, and is associated with bugs and diseases "daecent people" never need to get shots for.  Ahem.

On the other hand, constrained garden plots with perfect geometric shapes, and perfectly coordinated colors and textures are the equivalent of courting one's fair beloved with a checklist in one hand and a stopwatch in the other.

So... what would balance be?  Iconic stadium rockers Rush sang about it on their album Hemispheres; "Heart and mind together".

In the garden, particularly respecting viticulture in the state of Texas, that would require the orderly planting of wild Mustang grapes.  If you go with any of the established varieties of  "wine" grape, you have given in to convention, and are not really striving for balance.  Instead, you are striving for social status, because let's face it, the difference between a $10 bottle of wine and a $50 bottle of wine is too subtle for you to really taste anyway, unless you are some kind of savant.

And that's what we've done (planted mustangs, not become savants...).  We've got them trellised on the back porch (a nod to Apollo), growing wild on the fence between us and the rent house to our West (a nod to Dionysus), and we are attempting to grow them under the shade trees on a new fence between the front yard and the fish pond (a balance between the two).

Of course, we also plan on irritating not just the classical scholars who will read this analysis and think "What do these semi-literate barbarians think they are doing to my beloved Greek mythology?!?", but also the viticulturalists, who cringe at scuppernong wine, let alone something as primitive as mustang grape wine.  And to make matters worse, we intend (yes, we're planning this!) to mix in heavy doses of other fruits, including (but not limited to) plums, blackberries, strawberries, melons, and even pomegranates.

We might as well be brewing up a batch of Dionysus' favorite 21st century swill, MD 20/20.

Or maybe not.  Mad Dog is not the preferred beverage of Jane Austen fans, after all.

Happy New Year!

And happy farming!