There are many myths related to the ancient Roman civilization, among which one of the most important symbols related to the birth of our culture cannot be missed: wine, represented by the god Bacchus.
In the process of conception, Bacchus has brought with him the most authentic, as well as the most mundane, human elements: life, death, passion, jealousy, and love.
The son of Jupiter and the mortal Semele, Jupiter’s lover, his life was already in danger in his mother’s arms, so betrayed by Jupiter’s wife, a very jealous Juno, led by expediency His mother died.
Jupiter rescued the fetus and sewed it into his thigh, where he could complete the pregnancy. An adventure and a remarkable birth, which earned him the title of protector of embryonic life.
But that’s just the beginning. Forced to leave his homeland to escape the wrath of his stepmother, Bacchus wandered in many places, and during one of his travels, one summer day, he was struck by the beauty of the vines growing around the cave.
Perhaps a little amused, perhaps a little curious, he began picking bunches of grapes, squeezing them into a golden cup, and gulping down the juice.
Suddenly a miracle happened: his tired body was refreshed in an instant, and his soul was enveloped by the joyful and energetic impulse of life!
Everything seemed more real, stronger, more alive, even in thought!
He thought that such a fetish must be shared with others, so he decided to start planting vines as a gift to mankind. And thus wine was born!
This is probably why wine is the drink that best embodies the sense of gift and conviviality: it is believed to be a gift from the gods, a miraculous liquid (Rabelais) with “the power to fill the soul with truth”.
Yes, because, if you think about it, the real gift that God has to offer is precisely to give back to man, for better or for worse, his true face, stripped of his lies.
To a certain extent it lifts the spirits, improves intellectual skills, strengthens friendship and conversation: in short, it is a divine drink, infusing the individual with cosmic harmony, giving him the intoxicating joy of tending it, and finally thanks to Jean He dropped his defenses.
But, to a certain degree, alcohol limits man’s powers of consciousness, bewilders mind and heart, robs man of reason, makes him proud,
And uncontrolled animal instincts that blind intentions, confuse the senses, make a man blind and dull like a donkey, and push him into the good graces that come with addiction.
The deepest abstraction and the blindest bestiality are thus fused in the same chalice, they are part of the same whole. Only man can control which side wins, and as in life, these two elements are constantly at war with each other, backed by a precarious balance of social norms.
Nothing explains with such clarity the ambiguity of the human condition, forever suspended between seeking and self-destruction, like a luxurious goblet full of wine.
Maybe that’s why you never regret drinking wine.
Because it’s always like discovering more about yourself, for better or worse, raising the bar for your limits.
