Berry opens this latest installment of the Port William series with young Andy Catlett preparing to visit a place he’d been to many times before, though this would be an adventure he will take very seriously. Nine years old, Andy embarks on the trip by bus, alone for the first time. He decides it will be a rite of passage and his first step into manhood. Sometimes a handful at home, Andy was a good boy when visiting his Grandparents’ houses, and he looked forward to the little spoiling certain to come his way. A beautiful short novel, this book is a perfect introduction into the whole world of Port William and will be as well a new chapter for those already familiar with this rich unfolding story.

In the latest installment in Wendell Berry’s long story about the citizens of Port William, Kentucky, readers learn of the Coulters’ children, of the Feltners and Branches, and how survivors “live right on.” “Ignorant boys, killing each other,” is just about all Nathan Coulter would tell his wife about the Battle of Okinawa in the spring of 1945. Life carried on for the community of Port William, Kentucky, as some boys returned from the war while the lives of others were mourned. In her seventies, Nathan’s wife, Hannah, now has time to tell of the years since the war.

In a rural Kentucky river town, “Old Jack” Beechum, a retired farmer, sees his life again through the shades of one burnished day in September 1952. Bringing the earthiness of America’s past to mind, The Memory of Old Jack conveys the truth and integrity of the land and the people who live it. Through the eyes of one man can be seen the values Americans strive to recapture as we arrive at the next century.

This, the first title in the Port William series, introduces the rural section of Kentucky with which novelist Wendell Berry has had a lifelong fascination. When young Nathan loses his grandfather, Berry guides readers through the process of Nathan’s grief, endearing the reader to the simple humanity through which Nathan views the world. Echoing Berry’s own strongly held beliefs, Nathan tells us that his grandfather’s life “couldn’t be divided from the days he’d spent at work in his fields.” Berry has long been compared to Faulkner for his ability to erect entire communities in his fiction, and his heart and soul have always lived in Port William, Kentucky. In this eloquent novel about duty, community, and a sweeping love of the land, Berry gives readers a classic book that takes them to that storied place.

It is 1976 and Andy Catlett, farmer and agricultural journalist, is walking the streets of San Francisco at dawn. In the eight months since losing his right hand to a corn-picking machine, he has also lost himself. Two thousand miles from his home in Kentucky, he begins to remember people, the land, and the comfort of knowing his place intimately. Andy’s reveries evoke a membership governed by the principles of humanity and love. Inspiring and eye-opening, Remembering follows Andy’s journey out of darkness and into the warm light of community.

Wendell Berry has never been afraid to speak up for the dispossessed. The Need to Be Whole continues the work he began in The Hidden Wound (1970) and The Unsettling of America (1977), demanding a careful exploration of this hard, shared
truth: The wealth of the mighty few governing this nation has been built on the unpaid labor of others.

Without historical understanding of this practice of dispossession–the displacement of Native peoples, the destruction of both the land and land-based communities, ongoing racial division–we are doomed to continue industrialism’s
assault on both the natural world and every sacred American ideal. Berry writes, “To deal with so great a problem, the best idea may not be to go ahead in our present state of unhealth to more disease and more product development. It may
be that our proper first resort should be to history: to see if the truth we need to pursue might be behind us where we have ceased to look.” If there is hope for us, this is it: that we honestly face our past and move into a future guided by the
natural laws of affection. This book furthers Mr. Berry’s part in what is surely our country’s most vital conversation.

Since its publication in 1977, The Unsettling of America has been recognized as a classic of American letters. In
it, Wendell Berry argues that good farming is a cultural and spiritual discipline. Today’s agribusiness, however, takes
farming out of its cultural context and away from families. As a result, we as a nation are more estranged from the
land–from the intimate knowledge, love, and care of it.

Sadly, his arguments and observations are more relevant than ever. Although “this book has not had the happy
fate of being proved wrong,” Berry writes, there are people working “to make something comely and enduring of
our life on this earth.” Wendell Berry is one of those people, writing and working, as ever, with passion, eloquence,
and conviction.

In a time when our relationship to the natural world is ruled by the violence and greed of unbridled consumerism, Wendell Berry speaks out in these prescient essays, drawn from his fifty-year campaign on behalf of American lands and communities.

The writings gathered in The World-Ending Fire are the unique product of a life spent farming the fields of rural Kentucky with mules and horses, and of the rich, intimate knowledge of the land cultivated by this work. These are essays written in defiance of the false call to progress and in defense of local landscapes, essays that celebrate our cultural heritage, our history, and our home.

With grace and conviction, Wendell Berry shows that we simply cannot afford to succumb to the mass-produced madness that drives our global economy?the natural world will not allow it.

Yet he also shares with us a vision of consolation and of hope. We may be locked in an uneven struggle, but we can and must begin to treat our land, our neighbors, and ourselves with respect and care. As Berry urges, we must abandon arrogance and stand in awe.