Tilar J. Mazzeo. The Widow Clicquot: The Story of a Champagne Empire and the Woman Who Ruled It. New York: Collins, 2008.

Champagne is an interesting luxury product. Originally, wine-makers were vexed by the bubbles that showed up in some of their bottles after a cold snap. But in the 17th century, a taste for bubbly developed at the high end of the market. Still, it wasn’t until the 19th century that champagne became “big business,” with well-branded makers serving an international market.

Tilar Mazzeo’s The Widow Cliquot tells the story of one of the most interesting of the early champagne tycoons: a woman who, in the turmoil of the Napoleonic Wars, founded a dynasty. Barbe-Nicole Ponsardin, the daughter of a prosperous Reims merchant, married into the Cliquot family, who sold both cloth and wine. After her husband’s death, she chose to continue running the family’s wine business, concentrating on the fizzy wine we now call champagne.

The Widow Clicquot faced long odds–indeed, she was a true gambler–because travel was hazardous and much of the export market was closed. Still, she clung to her vision with a remarkable tenacity and was ultimately successful–Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin is still one of the best known champagne houses in the world.

The book has a great deal of interesting information on the history and production of champagne–this gives the Widow’s life some context. Mazzeo’s finest moment is her taut telling of the delivery of the 1811 vintage under the specter of war in 1813. Mazzeo clearly sets the scene and lets the reader know just how high the stakes are. We really get a sense of the menace–and triumph–of the Widow’s life.

Much of what happens after that drama, which falls about in the middle of the book, is unfortunately anti-climax. Mazzeo’s problem is that there simply aren’t any sources to guide her: since the Widow left scanty records of her personal life, we just don’t know what was going on there. It’s no coincidence that a well-documented episode from the Widow’s business career is the best part of the book: clearly, there were solid sources to ground the story here.

There also seems to be a great deal of telling, rather than showing in the narrative. Time and again, the reader is told that Barbe-Nicole was an exceptional woman, and that she couldn’t have been successful had she started her career a few years earlier or a few years later. We are also reminded frequently that Barbe-Nicole was middle class–but she came from one of the wealthiest families in Reims and ultimately ran a multi-billion dollar (in today’s terms) business empire. True, she was not a titled noble, but today’s audiences might not consider a woman born to her privilege and riches “middle class.”

Much of the problem is apparent in the title–it’s just too wordy for its own good. Why not “The Widow Cliquot: The Woman Who Ruled a Champagne Empire?” The book suffers similarly–though it’s less than 200 pages, it still feels repetitious and over-long at points.

It’s too bad, because Mazzeo has an great story to tell, and where she’s got the benefit of solid sources, she’s does a fine job. Perhaps this story would have worked better as one chapter in a book devoted to similar pioneers? It’s certainly a good read, and a story that more people should know about.