When acclaimed Japanese director Akira Kurosawa released his 1985 masterpiece Ran, critics noted that the 75-year-old filmmaker brought the wisdom and disappointment of age to his adaptation of King Lear. In a similar vein, Kentucky writer Wendell Berry has crafted a triumphant capstone to his decades-long career. Jayber Crow is a thoughtful and nostalgic look at the 20th century as it affected the inhabitants of a tiny Kentucky river town.

Berry has written about the community of Port William throughout his work. This latest novel is the autobiography of the town’s barber, who has lived among the community for half a century, but grew up in an orphanage. As he recounts the events of his life, from his childhood at the close of World War I through the Depression and several other wars, to his retirement, the book invokes images of the wracking changes this country has undergone.

Jayber’s observations don’t just linger on historic events. An intimate observer of the community yet at times an outsider, Jayber keenly observes the nuances and follies of the community and its membership. An early stint at a theological seminary ends when Jayber is shaken by doubt. Although Jayber questions doctrine, he never abandons faith. He realizes that his calling is to be the barber and in many ways, the minister to his beloved community. But Jayber remains haunted by the question that caused him to reject the seminary: If Christ commanded people to love one another, why do they choose hate so often? For Jayber, revelation sometimes comes while trudging through a dark, cold, stormy night. In one memorable sequence, Jayber journeys to witness the havoc wrought by the 1937 flood. Crossing a shaky bridge, nearly overwhelmed by a runaway river, he realizes he needs to abandon his destination of Louisville in favor of Port William. Viewed from Jayber’s barber shop, most of the events of the century, from the construction of the interstate highway system to the Vietnam War, have little to do with love or even the notions of mutual benefit that bind a community. Too, some of Port William’s residents are portraits of self-importance and even brutality. Even Jayber admits he fails to love everyone, although in retrospect he discovers he can feel compassion and pity for most. And most of the town’s inhabitants shine with mutual love, respect, and charity. In particular, there is the woman for whom Jayber bears a bright and unrequited love, and on whose behalf he swears a unique and secret oath. In Jayber Crow, Berry mourns the destruction of community wrought by forces like television and the emphasis on getting ahead. Where once family farmers traded their produce for goods at the local market, they’re now reduced to consumers whose only welcome contribution is cash. Berry’s brilliance is that the reader joins him in lamenting the town’s loss of innocence, while taking hope in the strength that love and community can bring.

Gregory Harris is a writer and editor living in Indianapolis. Like Jayber Crow, he grew up in Kentucky.

A trio of fresh new voices If you are looking for ideas for New Year’s resolutions, why not resolve to read something completely new this January? Though this might not sound like the wildest suggestion, let’s face it, when was the last time you bought a book by an unknown author? Thankfully, January is a good month to gamble on unknowns. Here’s a look a three debut novels definitely worth checking out in 2000. Interested in medieval settings? You know, stories with castles and serfs. Well, if you are, then The Testament of Yves Gundron (Farrar, Straus ∧ Giroux, $25, 0374221790) is right up your hedgerow. This debut by Emily Barton invites us into Mandragora, a small, medieval country located in the interior of a remote island. In Mandragora we meet Yves Gundron, a fairly ordinary peasant farmer. Yves works hard in the fields to support his family, and one day, in an inspired moment, he invents the harness, an implement that makes life just a little less difficult for himself and everyone else. But if the creation of the harness comes as a revelation to the Mandragorans, then you can only imagine what the appearance of Ruth Blum, an anthropologist from Boston does to this primitive society. In this imaginative first novel, Barton continually surprises us with her quirky plot changes. As you might have guessed, Mandragora turns out to be a secluded medieval society somehow forgotten by a world brimming with 20th-century conveniences. Her novel thus details the emotional and psychological upheaval of a community suddenly caught between the Middle Ages and modernity. Plot surprises aside, the real fun in this book lies in Barton’s take on the medieval mind. Written from Yves Gundron’s point of view, this clever novel pokes fun at the habits and suspicions of Mandragora’s backwards inhabitants. Burton deftly captures the dispositions of these charming simpletons as she sets them up for their shocking communal epiphany. This novel is a fine-tuned comedy well suited for fans of historical fiction. In an equally imaginative albeit less fantastical vein Zoe Heller’s debut takes a more serious look at life’s surprises. In Everything You Know (Alfred A. Knopf, $22, 0375407243) Heller takes on the voice of an aging British writer convalescing from a heart attack in Mexico. Willy Muller is a man born to face hardship and suffering. Consequently he is a man who despises just about everything. A true misanthrope, Muller’s rage at the world manifests itself in his verbal and psychological abuse of those closest to him. His girlfriend, his agent, his nurses, and his few friends all bear the brunt of his caustic temperament. As author, Heller does an amazing job at capturing the acidity of this aging curmudgeon, but the overall power in this story comes from the unraveling of Muller’s life. Though Muller seems born to be bad, slowly we begin to understand him as a man born to experience sorrow.

Having lost his first wife in an accident for which he was blamed, Willy is completely estranged from his two daughters. During Willy’s convalescence we also discover that his youngest daughter, Sophie, has recently committed suicide.

Through a strange twist in fate, Willy finds himself in possession of Sophie’s diary. While recovering, he reads his daughter’s journal in an attempt to recapture something of her lost life. This is a heartbreaking tale told masterfully by a writer seemingly wise beyond her years. Heller writes convincingly from Muller’s point of view, but the real triumph here is the depth of her insight into the tragedy of this man’s life. For all the story’s bitterness, this is a truly engrossing book. Heller surely will be a writer to watch in years to come. Eliza Osborne’s debut, The Distance Between, also takes a hard, sober look at family tragedy. Like Heller, Osborne captures a character who is forced to survey the more difficult terrain in life. This well-crafted novel follows Mattie Welsh as she travels by car to her parents’ home in Pennsylvania. Mattie’s elderly parents have been injured in a car accident. Osborne’s novel thus focuses on the inward monologue of a woman faced suddenly with her parent’s mortality. The Distance Between relates a stirring personal journey. Osborne’s writing is electrifying in its poetic intensity. There are some passages in this novel that recall the furious intensity of Allen Ginsberg’s Kaddish, while other sections are reminiscent of the subtle, lyrical gifts of T. S. Eliot’s Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. It is not often that novelists bring poets to mind, but Osborne is a writer of such inestimable talent one cannot help but hear poems in her prose. Yet it is not just fascinating language that brings poets to mind. Like Eliot and Ginsberg, Osborne’s writing tackles timeless issues. Her novel is a poignant meditation on family, love, and loss wrapped in a plot that basically involves nothing more than a woman and a car. Here is a debut of a highly admirable order. From the humorous to the heartbreaking, these three novels make astounding debuts. So this new year, try some new authors. They won’t disappoint.

Charles Wyrick is a writer and musician living in Nashville.

A trio of fresh new voices If you are looking for ideas for New Year’s resolutions, why not resolve to read something completely new this January? Though this might not sound like the wildest suggestion, let’s face it, when was the last time you bought a book by an unknown author? Thankfully, January is a good month to gamble on unknowns. Here’s a look a three debut novels definitely worth checking out in 2000. Interested in medieval settings? You know, stories with castles and serfs. Well, if you are, then The Testament of Yves Gundron (Farrar, Straus ∧ Giroux, $25, 0374221790) is right up your hedgerow. This debut by Emily Barton invites us into Mandragora, a small, medieval country located in the interior of a remote island. In Mandragora we meet Yves Gundron, a fairly ordinary peasant farmer. Yves works hard in the fields to support his family, and one day, in an inspired moment, he invents the harness, an implement that makes life just a little less difficult for himself and everyone else. But if the creation of the harness comes as a revelation to the Mandragorans, then you can only imagine what the appearance of Ruth Blum, an anthropologist from Boston does to this primitive society. In this imaginative first novel, Barton continually surprises us with her quirky plot changes. As you might have guessed, Mandragora turns out to be a secluded medieval society somehow forgotten by a world brimming with 20th-century conveniences. Her novel thus details the emotional and psychological upheaval of a community suddenly caught between the Middle Ages and modernity. Plot surprises aside, the real fun in this book lies in Barton’s take on the medieval mind. Written from Yves Gundron’s point of view, this clever novel pokes fun at the habits and suspicions of Mandragora’s backwards inhabitants. Burton deftly captures the dispositions of these charming simpletons as she sets them up for their shocking communal epiphany. This novel is a fine-tuned comedy well suited for fans of historical fiction. In an equally imaginative albeit less fantastical vein Zoe Heller’s debut takes a more serious look at life’s surprises. In Everything You Know Heller takes on the voice of an aging British writer convalescing from a heart attack in Mexico. Willy Muller is a man born to face hardship and suffering. Consequently he is a man who despises just about everything. A true misanthrope, Muller’s rage at the world manifests itself in his verbal and psychological abuse of those closest to him. His girlfriend, his agent, his nurses, and his few friends all bear the brunt of his caustic temperament. As author, Heller does an amazing job at capturing the acidity of this aging curmudgeon, but the overall power in this story comes from the unraveling of Muller’s life. Though Muller seems born to be bad, slowly we begin to understand him as a man born to experience sorrow.

Having lost his first wife in an accident for which he was blamed, Willy is completely estranged from his two daughters. During Willy’s convalescence we also discover that his youngest daughter, Sophie, has recently committed suicide.

Through a strange twist in fate, Willy finds himself in possession of Sophie’s diary. While recovering, he reads his daughter’s journal in an attempt to recapture something of her lost life. This is a heartbreaking tale told masterfully by a writer seemingly wise beyond her years. Heller writes convincingly from Muller’s point of view, but the real triumph here is the depth of her insight into the tragedy of this man’s life. For all the story’s bitterness, this is a truly engrossing book. Heller surely will be a writer to watch in years to come. Eliza Osborne’s debut, The Distance Between (Soho Press, $24, 1569471800), also takes a hard, sober look at family tragedy. Like Heller, Osborne captures a character who is forced to survey the more difficult terrain in life. This well-crafted novel follows Mattie Welsh as she travels by car to her parents’ home in Pennsylvania. Mattie’s elderly parents have been injured in a car accident. Osborne’s novel thus focuses on the inward monologue of a woman faced suddenly with her parent’s mortality. The Distance Between relates a stirring personal journey. Osborne’s writing is electrifying in its poetic intensity. There are some passages in this novel that recall the furious intensity of Allen Ginsberg’s Kaddish, while other sections are reminiscent of the subtle, lyrical gifts of T. S. Eliot’s Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. It is not often that novelists bring poets to mind, but Osborne is a writer of such inestimable talent one cannot help but hear poems in her prose. Yet it is not just fascinating language that brings poets to mind. Like Eliot and Ginsberg, Osborne’s writing tackles timeless issues. Her novel is a poignant meditation on family, love, and loss wrapped in a plot that basically involves nothing more than a woman and a car. Here is a debut of a highly admirable order. From the humorous to the heartbreaking, these three novels make astounding debuts. So this new year, try some new authors. They won’t disappoint.

Charles Wyrick is a writer and musician living in Nashville.

How must it feel to be absolutely displaced, stripped of your beloved family and culture, in a faraway land? How does identity travel with you, and how is that identity transformed as you change? These questions are at the center of Louisa, a new novel by Simone Zelitch.

Like A Thousand Acres, the Pulitzer Prize winning novel by Jane Smiley, Louisa offers a modern interpretation of a classic story. While Smiley’s novel retells the story of King Lear and his daughters on the rolling green hills of Iowa farmland, Zelitch opts for an Old Testament tale. Louisa draws on the biblical story of Ruth, the Moabite princess who follows her Israelite mother-in-law to her homeland and adopts her religion. Zeltich moves the characters to post-war Europe, where a young German widow named Louisa follows her Hungarian mother-in-law, Nora, to Israel in 1949.

The novel begins with the arrival of two weary women in Israel. As Louisa helps Nora onto an Israeli refugee bus, she is immediately identified and stigmatized as a German by the bundled and traumatized Jewish passengers around her. The relationship between Nora and Louisa, and the struggles they face, become the focus of the novel. Zelitch’s motivation for writing came from a strong desire to explore the displacement and destruction of the Jewish people during and after World War II. As a teacher with the Peace Corps in Hungary, she sought answers to her questions about the Holocaust in the sturdy faces of her Hungarian students, in the abandoned and blown-out synagogues she struggled to comprehend, and in the fact that her town had a Jewish cemetery, but no living Jewish residents.

Louisa begins with a situation so open-ended, one wonders how the author will ever bring the ends together. The two women spend much of the novel trying to find Nora’s Zionist pioneer cousin Bela, who has founded a kibbutz. The steady voices of the characters hold the novel together, as memory leads through to memory again. Those voices hold the reader through the strange and unlikely tales of this fascinating book.

Amy Ryce writes from Charlottesville, Virginia.

A trio of fresh new voices If you are looking for ideas for New Year’s resolutions, why not resolve to read something completely new this January? Though this might not sound like the wildest suggestion, let’s face it, when was the last time you bought a book by an unknown author? Thankfully, January is a good month to gamble on unknowns. Here’s a look a three debut novels definitely worth checking out in 2000. Interested in medieval settings? You know, stories with castles and serfs. Well, if you are, then The Testament of Yves Gundron is right up your hedgerow. This debut by Emily Barton invites us into Mandragora, a small, medieval country located in the interior of a remote island. In Mandragora we meet Yves Gundron, a fairly ordinary peasant farmer. Yves works hard in the fields to support his family, and one day, in an inspired moment, he invents the harness, an implement that makes life just a little less difficult for himself and everyone else. But if the creation of the harness comes as a revelation to the Mandragorans, then you can only imagine what the appearance of Ruth Blum, an anthropologist from Boston does to this primitive society. In this imaginative first novel, Barton continually surprises us with her quirky plot changes. As you might have guessed, Mandragora turns out to be a secluded medieval society somehow forgotten by a world brimming with 20th-century conveniences. Her novel thus details the emotional and psychological upheaval of a community suddenly caught between the Middle Ages and modernity. Plot surprises aside, the real fun in this book lies in Barton’s take on the medieval mind. Written from Yves Gundron’s point of view, this clever novel pokes fun at the habits and suspicions of Mandragora’s backwards inhabitants. Burton deftly captures the dispositions of these charming simpletons as she sets them up for their shocking communal epiphany. This novel is a fine-tuned comedy well suited for fans of historical fiction. In an equally imaginative albeit less fantastical vein Zoe Heller’s debut takes a more serious look at life’s surprises. In Everything You Know (Alfred A. Knopf, $22, 0375407243) Heller takes on the voice of an aging British writer convalescing from a heart attack in Mexico. Willy Muller is a man born to face hardship and suffering. Consequently he is a man who despises just about everything. A true misanthrope, Muller’s rage at the world manifests itself in his verbal and psychological abuse of those closest to him. His girlfriend, his agent, his nurses, and his few friends all bear the brunt of his caustic temperament. As author, Heller does an amazing job at capturing the acidity of this aging curmudgeon, but the overall power in this story comes from the unraveling of Muller’s life. Though Muller seems born to be bad, slowly we begin to understand him as a man born to experience sorrow.

Having lost his first wife in an accident for which he was blamed, Willy is completely estranged from his two daughters. During Willy’s convalescence we also discover that his youngest daughter, Sophie, has recently committed suicide.

Through a strange twist in fate, Willy finds himself in possession of Sophie’s diary. While recovering, he reads his daughter’s journal in an attempt to recapture something of her lost life. This is a heartbreaking tale told masterfully by a writer seemingly wise beyond her years. Heller writes convincingly from Muller’s point of view, but the real triumph here is the depth of her insight into the tragedy of this man’s life. For all the story’s bitterness, this is a truly engrossing book. Heller surely will be a writer to watch in years to come. Eliza Osborne’s debut, The Distance Between (Soho Press, $24, 1569471800), also takes a hard, sober look at family tragedy. Like Heller, Osborne captures a character who is forced to survey the more difficult terrain in life. This well-crafted novel follows Mattie Welsh as she travels by car to her parents’ home in Pennsylvania. Mattie’s elderly parents have been injured in a car accident. Osborne’s novel thus focuses on the inward monologue of a woman faced suddenly with her parent’s mortality. The Distance Between relates a stirring personal journey. Osborne’s writing is electrifying in its poetic intensity. There are some passages in this novel that recall the furious intensity of Allen Ginsberg’s Kaddish, while other sections are reminiscent of the subtle, lyrical gifts of T. S. Eliot’s Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. It is not often that novelists bring poets to mind, but Osborne is a writer of such inestimable talent one cannot help but hear poems in her prose. Yet it is not just fascinating language that brings poets to mind. Like Eliot and Ginsberg, Osborne’s writing tackles timeless issues. Her novel is a poignant meditation on family, love, and loss wrapped in a plot that basically involves nothing more than a woman and a car. Here is a debut of a highly admirable order. From the humorous to the heartbreaking, these three novels make astounding debuts. So this new year, try some new authors. They won’t disappoint.

Charles Wyrick is a writer and musician living in Nashville.

If anyone can capture what makes Sunday afternoons and lives of quiet desperation so melancholy, it’s Anita Brookner. In Undue Influence, an isolating and wistful sorrow pervades the life of Claire Pitt, a young woman working in a dusty second-hand London bookshop run by two elderly spinsters with an undying devotion to their deceased father, a supposed man of letters. Claire edits St. John Collier’s writings in the tomb-like shop basement, an apt setting for her dormant self-esteem. Mostly she is distracted and saved from deadly boredom by a pile of moldering 1950s women’s magazines, feeding her fantasies of finding a satisfying female role in simplistic black and white. After her mother’s death, Claire becomes even more detached, believing herself to be less than she should be, and wanting more than she thinks she deserves. She walks the streets of London observing and analyzing others’ actions, removed from even the sound of her own footsteps. Then one day a rare customer enters the shop. He’s attractive and needy, with the weakness of character destined to dissipate Claire’s remaining motivation to define her life. Tragically, she blames herself for giving in to this psychological script by exerting undue influence over this grown man. Their affair meanders aimlessly, like its characters, until Claire manages to alter the direction of her life with the simplest of gestures. It’s easy to miss the epiphany, but not to be missed is Brookner’s courage in bringing solitude to the surface, with all its pain and terrors. Desperate, lonely thoughts make up this entire story, leaving room for insights so sharp their cuts are barely felt. Whittling an existence from indifferent fate, Brookner’s characters are courageous, not pitiable, and their slightest victories are set glittering against such austere lives.

Deanna Larson is a writer in Nashville, Tennessee.