Savor this story. Detect the notes of charcoal, sap, and raspberry. This story is not kind, but neither is it cruel. It contains both revenge and justice, but it is careful of the innocent and contains an element of hope. This is a story in which the villains are greed and war, dealing death, and they receive their comeuppance in the form of life. Consider it's history - a story of the latter day of science fiction, plausible but not concerned about slavish adherence to scientific detail, told within a frame that evokes both the most primal senses of the human condition and the politics of today. It is a heady mix.
*Ahem*
Anyway, I loved this story. I loved the conceit of history-told-through-wine. I thought that the story was completely plausible - especially if you consider that the narrator obviously has her perspective on the war, a perspective that others might disagree with (though it wouldn't be fair to call her unreliable, exactly, just opinionated) - but even so, people have actually gone to war over this sort of thing in real life. Greed can be a powerful motivator, and not all humans are as principled as one would like. In fact, you know... the climate that started this war did happen in real life. Mercantilism - Britain's early approach to its colonies - states that colonies exist primarily to provide a new market for the parent country's goods, to the limit of shipping technology. The taxes that inspired America's revolution were intended to A) prevent American goods for reaching a global market and competing with British goods and B) keep early Americans dependent upon the British economy for things they needed - things they could grow in a neighboring colony.
And we went to war over that.
The story didn't have characters in a conventional sense - except the narrator, whose character was deeply and lovingly explored - but I don't think it needed them. Odd, I know. The organizations (including the monk's extinct winery), planets, and meta-life-forms of the Hyphens gradually took on sufficient character to entrance me. The author also had a gift for bringing a character to life with remarkably few words. For example - the moon monk; I really found myself feeling that I knew him, liked him, after only a brief appearance in the story. That was quite impressive.
All in all, a winner with me. Five slightly tipsy zeppelins out of five, and I'll take two bottles of the dark red, one of the white, and if that doesn't exhaust my savings, one of the moon-monk's vintage.