[John Ehle] has never quite managed to find the national audience he deserves.
In a just world, publication of The Winter People would rectify that; it is a lovely novel—quiet, forceful, serious but never solemn, old-fashioned in the best sense of the term. But this is not a just world, and there is simply no way of knowing whether Ehle will, with what is unquestionably his best book, at last be properly recognized. He is not a flashy writer, he deals with people and a place that may seem remote to many readers, he makes no gestures to literary fashion. He is merely good, which these days too often is not enough.
The Winter People is set in the mountains of North...
(The entire section is 744 words.)