Wendell Berry

The author's celebration of life in a Kentucky town continues with his latest installment--the stories of Port William matriarch Hannah Coulter, an eighty-year-old woman who has been widowed twice and has watched the town's sense of community gradually deteriorate. Reprint.

Hannah Coulter

Elisabeth Thoresen

Gabe Cortez

Christopher McCaffery

Nice enough, I guess. Mostly frustrating.

Hannah Coulter is Wendell Berry’s seventh novel and his first to employ the voice of a woman character in its telling. Hannah, the now–elderly narrator, recounts the love she has for the land and for her community. She remembers each of her two husbands, and all places and community connections threatened by twentieth–century technologies. At risk is the whole culture of family farming, hope redeemed when her wayward and once lost grandson, Virgil, returns to his rural home place to work the farm.

A Novel

Melody Izard

Reflections on life as it was. Life as it is. Love with loss. Love with acceptance. So beautiful. So simple. But filled with the complexities of life.

In the latest installment in Wendell Berry's long story about the citizens of Port William, Hannah Coulter remembers. Her first husband, Virgil, was declared "missing in action" shortly after the Battle of the Bulge, and after she married Nathan Coulter about all he could tell Hannah about the Battle of Okinawa was "Ignorant boys, killing each other." The community was stunned and diminished by the war, with some of its sons lost forever and others returning home determined to carry on. Now, in her late seventies, twice-widowed and alone, Hannah sorts through her memories: of her childhood, of young love and loss, of raising children and the changing seasons. She turns her plain gaze to a community facing its long deterioration, where, she says, "We feel the old fabric torn, pulling apart, and we know how much we have loved each other." Hannah offers her summation: her stories and her gratitude, for the membership in Port William, and for her whole life, a part of the great continuum of love and memory, grief and strength.

The stories are perfect. They are simple, yet cover the most important things about life. Some things are gone - but love remains. I should write more, and perhaps I will. Just know that this little book is the real deal.

Hannah Coulter

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