Hiding in the Backwaters Just one more blog on the net.

Finished – Patrick: Son of Ireland

I have an affinity for Ireland. I've always been drawn to Irish folklore and Irish music. I can't really say why, though I'm sure my grandfather has something to do with it, even though I never knew him. He was killed by a drunk driver before I was born. Whether it's simply in my blood or there is some psychological track etched in my mind by my grandfather's status of legend, who can say. Whatever the source, I love stories of Ireland, the Celts, druids, and so on. Having read Lawhead's Merlin trilogy many years ago, when I saw this book on the bargain counter, I picked it up.

Steven Lawhead's talents as a story teller are pretty solid. His books are easy to read, engaging and the characters are well done. I'm not real crazy about this book, however, and it's simply because I'm not real crazy about the story the story is telling.

The main character, Succat, is a spoiled, noble Briton Roman who is captured in a raid and returned to Erie, a.k.a. Ireland, as a slave. Naturally, his every thought is about escape and returning home. It is over six years, a few failed attempts, and not before he is befriended by a druid and inducted into the druidic order before he manages to make good his escape.

Let me pause here to outline my first beef with this story. It starts by challenging our assumptions about druids, rather Succat's assumptions, which are based in basic Christian disdain for all things other. So far so good. Christianity can stand to be taken down a peg or two. He talks about druid powers, visions, their skills and understanding. All fine and good. However, we eventually learn that the druids have essentially converted to Christianity even if they don't follow the rituals and practices dictated by Rome.

Now the book takes multitudinous shots at the established clergy, and I suppose one could read this book as a critique of priest craft, which I have no problems with. Additionally, Stephen liberally mixes his mythologies. For example, it is the sun god—who's got a bit of time on his hands during the three days of darkness following the crucifixion—who decides to drop in on the Irish folk and let them know what is going on. Perhaps this mythological mish-mash is Steven's way of saying there is room in Christianity for a great many traditions and beliefs. Not a bad way of thinking. Still, this idea that all things can be improved with a little bit of Christian faith just rubs me the wrong way.

Our hero, in the mean time, has affected his escape back to Briton only to find it a cold and unwelcoming place. His parents are dead. His family lands have been declared abandoned and sold by the local magistrate. It doesn't take him long to decide that Ireland holds more promise for him and determines to return. Somehow, he just never makes it. His life turns into one disaster after another. He ends up in Rome and marries into a wealthy and powerful family. The final tragedy in his life as a free man is losing his young wife and newborn daughter to the plague. Once again, he decides it is time to return to Ireland. This time, however, he is impossibly wealthy—he being the sole survivor of his wife's family and thus inheritor of their estate—it is a simple matter to hire a boat to take him back.

And here's where we come to my second beef with the book. Most religious/spiritual traditions revolve around the idea that one must let go of his expectations and desires, find and then follow the path that God has ordained for him. You get on that path, life is good. You choose your own path...well things get harder. Christianity is hardly unique in its variation on this theme: you don't follow the will of God and you're screwed.

So here we have the quintessential example of not accepting the path God has set for you in our hero, Succat. He won't accept that Ireland is the place God intends him to be and he runs away. Whereupon he is forced to endure one life threatening disaster after another. He decides to return to Ireland and everything is instantly better. Everyone he abandoned when he escaped, everyone he lied to in order to make good his escape, including his pregnant fiancé, has forgiven him. The king to whom he was enslaved puts up a token fuss, but is more or less overpowered by the will of the people. (The gold Succat brings with him doesn't hurt either.) Succat goes on to be the rising star in the new Christian/Druidic order he was always destined to be. The End.

Not. Maybe this is supposed to be some kind of allegory for Heaven and redemption, but life is never that tidy. This belief that walking in God's path brings prosperity, happiness and peace probably endures the most abuse at the hands of religion than any other.

Religions, you see, claim they know what God's path is for you. They've got it all lined out, complete with road maps, mile markers and detailed instructions. All you have to do is follow their rules and viola! Instant happiness. So what happens when you follow all the rules and you still find that your life is empty? What happens when you do everything right and your husband is still selfish bastard? What happens when the things that should bring you joy and happiness (family, service in the church) don't? The only logical conclusion is that it must be your fault somehow. There must be some commandment you overlooked. Maybe prayer and scripture study twice times a day isn't enough. Maybe three is better. No? How about four? It's an insidious, destructive spiral of shame and guilt and it all stems from the belief that if you follow God's path for you (as outlined by the religion of your choice), He will see that your life is a walk in the park. Life just doesn't work that way and I can pretty much guarantee you it was never meant to.

I would have enjoyed the book more if Succat had returned to Ireland when he first determined to do so and we go to know him and his life there without all the heavy handed sermonizing. If you want to read two books about struggles with religious faith that don't make it all tidy in the end try, The Sparrow and Children of God, by Mary Doria Russell.