The man we now see is Monsieur Hellis. Hellis was born in France, more precisely in the Burgundy region in January 1895. This man’s life is characterized by the enhanced presence of a gift: since early aged he had been able to describe reality with a goldsmith’s thoroughness and a writer’s eloquence. “The events speak for themselves”, he used to say, “I simply translate to the language of men their aromas, their secret appearance and sensations that those events should cause, when they strike life”.
When he found love, for example, in his inseparable companion, Hellis described her as following: “Anne-Marie is the real event in my life. Her fruity aroma, with a touch of red berries, thrives on her lips and lingers deep in the throat like a ruby. Her whole soul is wonderfully full-bodied, and from her bright eyes will not rarely emerge a generous and happy tear.”
His interest in oenology was less a conscious choice than a destiny’s conspiracy. Hellis had pursued the truth hidden in events his whole life. Thus, by managing the wine making processes, from the production he had inherited from his family, he found there an unsuspicious way to philosophize and, at the same time, to draw the benefits his gift offered him on a silver platter.
When he was a little more than 35 years old, his life was running smoothly, but the world was silently anticipating what would probably be the worst event in the century, one which could not be described through words: the war.
At that moment, the wine and events poet became speechless. With the feeling that his gift was running away to milder latitudes, Hellis, silent, bitter and detached, grabbed his wife’s hand and chased it.
When arriving to Portugal, the gift found an exuberant vineyard and Hellis got it back and again pronounced beautiful words. Europe was about to be ravaged by unspeakable events.