Another 600 pages of Port William behind me, attempting a Goodreads blurb seems a tad pretentious and pedestrian. Wendell Berry’s work is just so good.
This is the second Library of America chronological release of Port William stories and novels. The first in the series, which I read a couple of years back, spans the Civil War to the close of WWII. This one takes us post-war through to the ‘70’s.
Given that the stories were not written chronologically, it’s perhaps unsurprising that this volume has a pensive, sadder undertone as old Port William and its residents succumb to the mechanised, industrialised, consumerised post-war world. Beloved characters age and die and the passing of time and old ways defines the telling of many of these tales.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a downer read. The beauty, poignancy, honesty and goodness of all that Berry holds dear shines through it all. In some ways, it’s about the unsullied beauty of truth that may not always - or often - win the day, but about the assurance that truth and beauty is always better.
Berry invites us to join (invest in) the membership of Port William, not by buying mules and growing tobacco, but by caring for and loving the local community around us and land on which we live. It’s the love and loyalty and honesty and frailty of the lives so beautifully crafted by Berry that carry a call - never strident, but humbly assured, that goodness is good, delivered slow enough to sink in through stories that are measured, vivid, immersive, substantial, honest, humble…
I’m guessing this isn’t everyone’s cup of spring water. But I find that these stories have that rare quality of being satisfyingly self-contained as great stories yet holding lessons to ponder and percolate into my own life. It’s like Lewis in the Narnia Chronicles or Tolkien in LOTR. The author sparks reflections about humanity, friendship, hope, the divine, endurance, good and evil. But it’s all wrapped up in a story we care about, that captures our imagination. It’s a far cry from the arrogant dumbness of an author’s ham-fisted, fictionally gift wrapped propositions.
To enter into Berry’s Port William stories is to inhabit the hills and fields surrounding one stretch of the Ohio River in rural Kentucky, to see and smell and celebrate the seasons, to know the long story of family and friendship and neighbourship… There is so much in these pages, I know I’ll be compelled to return.
The Andy Catlett novel contained in the latter part of this book - Remembering - is powerful and quite distinctive out of all the Port William stories I’ve read. It’s a more reflective, inner-life story of redemption, of a way back after loss, of forgiveness sought and granted. But it’s still finds its heart in the embodied, en-landed, relationally and generationally enfolded life of Port William - not as a utopia (although Andy dreams such a place), but as a place known, among people known, one to the other, lived in a long story belonging to them all, past, present and future.
By getting to know the place and the people of these books you’ll be drawn to think more about yourself and your place and your people. It really is a remarkable work. I eagerly await Vol 3 in this series to complete my Wendell Berry Port William collection.
Enough rambling. One way or another, get yourself to Port William.