As others have said, one ought not read Wendell Berry's Port William novels expecting fast paced action. They are ploddingly beautiful books about community and ordinary life, and the graces you find therein. Berry's writing is always a treat to read, graceful and filled with life, and Hannah Coulter is no exception. I have only read novels he has written from a male's perspective and I was literally awed by how well he wrote this female protagonist. I can't give it any higher praise than to say that I wept when I finished, for Hannah and for myself, because it was over.

My favorite quote (very representative):
"I took her into bed with me and propped myself up with pillows against the headboard to let her nurse. As she nursed and the milk came, she began a little low contented sort of singing. I would feel milk and love flowing from me to her as once it had flowed to me. It emptied me. As the baby fed, I seemed slowly to grow empty of myself, as if in the presence of that long flow of love even grief could not stand."

Of the eleven novels by Wendell Berry in the Port William saga, Hannah Coulter is probably the best. It is a complete life told with great sensitivity of a poor girl and an outsider to the families written about in the other novels of the saga. Hannah has great determination and ability to overcome her limitations with the help of her grandmother and the Feltner, Coulter and Catlett families. The story covers the period from 1922 until the turn of the century. It is an epic tale.

ok.. I read this a year ago and loved it! It is elegantly written and soulful and kind. BUT after reading Wallace Stegner's 'Crossing to Safety'..and re-reading a chapter of 'Hannah Coulter', I'm afraid this book falls downward into a whole other category of writing. In my mind, 'Hannah Coulter' lacks humor..detail.. and the complexities of marriage. While Berry doesn't sugarcoat or gloss over his characters, he doesn't go into as much depth as I'd like, leaving me wondering and frustrated as to what's really going on inside Hannah, Nathan, and all the other folks of Port William. There just must be a whole lot more than 'everything's fine' in bucolic Port William..

The beauty of Stegner's book is that he manages to write 300 some odd pages on 'very quiet lives' and I truly hated for the book to end. With 'Hannah', I was left wanting more, not at just the end, but throughout the entire read.

This is one of the best books I have read - a wonderful book of community and belonging

In his Port William novels, Wendell Berry has built a community of nostalgia and gentleness that provides an opportunity to redirect our attention, for at least a time, from the day's most discouraging headlines. Enough of modern society trickles into the edges of Hannah Coulter's story, however, that we are reminded she may very well be our own contemporary.

This is the story of a woman widowed twice, who has never had extreme wealth but who seems to have learned contentedness in most situations and to be quietly resigned to the rest. Is she an idealized and not fully real character? Probably, but that could also be said of some of the many angst-drenched lead characters in other contemporary fiction, and I admit I find someone like this far more interesting.

The difference in her world from that of so many of the rest of us is summed up by another Port William resident's summary of what has happened to her children who have moved on to Ohio, California, and beyond.

"Andy said, 'You're worried because they've left the membership,' and he smiled...They've gone over from the world of membership to the world of organization. Nathan would say the world of employment.'...One of the attractions of moving away into the world of employment, i think, is being disconnected and free, unbothered by membership.It is a life of beginnings without memories, but it is a life too that ends without being remembered. The life of membership with all its cumbers is traded away for the life of employment that makes itself free by forgetting you clean as a whistle when you are not of any more use. When they get to retirement age, [my children] will be cast out of place and out of mind like worn-out replaceable parts, to be alone at the last maybe and soon forgotten.

"'But the membership,' Andy said, 'keeps the memories even of horses and mules and milk cows and dogs.'"

And that is the magic of Berry's writing; his telling of stories of those who are still *members* of a community helps keep their memories alive and reminds us of our own need to find our own community within our own spaces.