Wine writer Lin Yu-Sen compares himself to a glass of Pommard Pinot Noir — balanced, direct and natural.

Born and based in Taiwan, Lin is widely regarded as the most influential Chinese voice on all things vinous, having published 12 books on wine since 1996.

“There are no Chinese wine books as readable, honest and inspiring as his,” says Stephan Li, a wine educator in China. “His use of plain language to describe wine precisely is also without equal.”

While making a name for himself by opening the world of fine European wines to Chinese readers, Lin’s career has also been a process of personal and creative discovery.

“A 1,000 words wine article could include at least 20 technical terms, many related to grape varieties and producing regions,” says the 51-year-old writer last week in an exclusive interview with Shanghai Daily.

“Explaining each term inevitably breaks the reading flow. I sometimes mistakenly assume readers fully understand my words.”

Lin was in town at the invitation of Sopexa, a French wine marketing group, to teach a two-day master class and tutor this year’s candidates in the Sommelier Competition of French Wines in China, the country’s top wine-tasting competition.

“When reading his books, I feel he’s a good observer,” says Mei Ningbo, editor-in-chief at Vinehoo.com.

Indeed, Lin is also inclined to cast himself as an observer and a sharer of information, not an arbiter of taste.

“I don’t think wine can be judged,” he says. “Taste and aroma are so subjective. I appreciate herbal and grassy aromas in wine, which are considered by many other people to be unpleasant.”

“Regrettably, most popular and profitable wine books — including my own first and least favorite work ‘Discovering Wine (1996)’ — are tasting reports or text books, where the author sits in judgment. Drinking wine requires imagination. You’ll spoil the wine by trying to prove how sensible your palate is.”

Burgundy roots

It was during a trip to Burgundy, Lin explains, that he was inspired to become a professional writer. He describes this historic region in the heart of France’s wine country as an “open school” for studying terroir — the French term referring to the unique qualities imparted to various wines based on their region of origin.

According to Lin, many local vintners still produce wine the old-fashioned way, taking an active role in growing, bottling and selling.

“All this means wines from Burgundy will never be perfect, yet the subtle defects impart the beauty of humanity in the final taste,” the writer explains.

In the spirit of this craftsman-like, hands-on approach, Lin does much of his writing by hand and does not employ an assistant.

“I have an apartment in Taipei but I write at my house in Changhua (a small rural county in Taiwan), where a stack of interview notes taken over the past 20 years are used as my library and I can fully concentrate,” he says.

Lin says he is working on a new book about Bordeaux, where some of the most popular French wines are produced, albeit with more commercial, homogeneous production practices.

So far, Lin has conducted interviews at about 300 wineries in Bordeaux and says his latest book endeavor is about one-third complete.

“I plan to use 20 different angles to introduce Bordeaux, such as its terroir, history and local wine organization,” he explains.

With such an ambitious goal in mind though, Lin fears he may not meet his deadline.

Complicating matters is Lin’s thoughtful writing style, as well as his meticulous research process. For his books, Lin often spends 18 months or more conducting interviews and research overseas, followed by another year of actual writing.

“I lack writing talent,” Lin says modestly. “I’m jealous of my friend Shu Guozhi (a famous writer in Taiwan), who can write quickly and easily without getting out of bed.”

Chinese perspective

Last week’s master class attracted hundreds of Lin’s loyal readers in Shanghai.

“Most of them asked me to sign their copies of ‘Breathing between the Wines (2013)’,” says the writer, mentioning his book of selected wine columns.

In many of the essays contained in this volume, Lin focuses on his personal tastes and perspectives.

“After twenty years of being immersed in French wine aesthetics — which are largely focused on balance, structure, diversity and variation between bottles; preoccupations which spring from the Renaissance and rationalism — I gradually found myself diverging from these standards. I started to doubt myself and would wonder ‘why do my friends and I like this bottle, while it is disliked by so many Western critics’?”

As an example, Lin mentioned Rubaiyat, a Japanese wine made from Petit Verdot in Yamanashi. The wine’s light, clean and unadorned flavor has been decried as weak and plain by those steeped in Western wine norms.

“No matter how hard the winery works, sending samples to international wine competitions again and again, the wine has not been well received in the West. But I’m deeply impressed by its elegance and delicacy,” says the writer.

Lin chalked up this disparity to what he sees as an Asian preference for implicit beauty.

“Japanese people pursue a beauty that’s as pure as water — no wonder they produce such a wine,” he adds.

Deep study

Lin hadn’t originally set out to build a career as one of the foremost wine writers in the Chinese language. Originally, he intended to study fine art, but failed his entrance exam.

By chance, he settled on studying philosophy at the University of Provence in 1991.

“I failed all the exams during my first year in Provence. But the blame doesn’t rest entirely with me — Provence is just too beautiful; with mountains, seasides and blue sky all year round,” he recalls.

Floundering academically, Lin reached out for help from a former French classmate.

“Her mother had a villa next to a wine school providing sommelier courses. She told me I could drink wine all day and still get a diploma,” the writer says.

He thus shifted his studies to Universite du Vin de Suze-la-Rousse.

This experience piqued his passion and eventually he continued his studies at the University de Paris X from 1994 to 1996, where learned more about the global wine market.

“As a wine writer, I spend most of my time trying to answer the question: what is true and what is hype? Increasingly I find it difficult to provide clear answers,” Lin says.

Here he mentioned the concept of terroir, which was originally criticized by Americans as simply a French ploy to better market their wines.

As years went by though, American and Australian vintners began talking up the value of their own terroir.

More recently, biodynamic wine-growing has emerged as another hot industry trend, one which Lin is skeptical of. Biodynamic agriculture calls for limited human intervention based on the view that the farm itself is an interconnected eco-system — all with a dose of mysticism and spiritual science thrown on top.

“My heart is inclined to believe but my brain can’t. Scientifically, such ideas are baseless and cannot be proven. However, some practitioners say the rationale behind biodynamic farming is actually an expression of dissatisfaction among the younger generation toward their fathers, whom they see as overly domineering over the natural environment,” he says.

“In the wine world there are plenty of unsolved mysteries and no absolute truths. Most of time, all we get are clues, which are quickly blown apart by conflicting evidence,” Lin concludes.

Q: Among the books you’ve written, which is your favorite?

A: “Bistrot de Paris (1998),” provides a charming perspective. It’s my second book but the first I wrote from my heart. It’s not, as the book name indicates, a dining guide but uses bistros to present 20 arrondissements in Paris, each with their own unique cultures and lifestyles. For example, the fifth and sixth arrondissements are known as the Latin Quarter of Paris, while the 16th has a more cultural reputation than the others.

Bistros are part of Parisian daily life, and are unlike those fine dining restaurants that leave tourists with only a superficial impression.

Q: Is there a book you want to write?

A: I hope one day I can write a book about tapas in Seville (the capital city of Andalusia, Spain). Selfishly, if I write that book it would mean going back to stay for a while. Seville is a city with one of the highest rates of unemployment in Spain, where most people make their living through part time jobs. However, at the same time, it’s the happiest city I’ve ever seen. They work hard during the daytime for a bit of money, which is quickly used to treat a stranger like me a glass of drink in the evening. I grew up in Taiwan, where many people live for money and status.