The last chapter of a brilliant series. (5 stars)
If you have not read the three previous entries in “The Galway Chronicles” series, you simply must read them first. But if you who have read them, you will not want to miss “All Rivers to the Sea”, the immensely satisfying conclusion to the series.
The novel commences where volume three left off, with newlyweds Joseph and Kate separated by adversity, and Kate expecting their first child. But there is hardship on both fronts. Away in London, Joseph finds his life threatened by murderers. At home in Ireland, Kate suffers the agony of the death of her own child. When Joseph and Kate are finally reunited, their suffering continues in the form of a potato blight which destroys the food supply of their staple produce, results in more suffering, pain and death. Even Joseph and Kate’s marriage relationship is strained by sorrow and misunderstanding.
In “All Rivers to the Sea” the Thoenes not only portray the suffering of Joseph and Kate Burke, but also that of another family told in a sub-plot: the Grogan family. Suffering is epitomized in the Grogan family when they are cast out of their home, totally destitute. Daniel Grogan first suffers the loss of his wife, and then is forced to place his children in a workhouse. The horror of the workhouses is painted with stark reality, demonstrating the heartbreak of impoverished parents faced with death, and forced to part with their children by placing them in workhouses, where they suffered under the “charity” of a corrupt state church (p.117).
The only light in the darkness is that one child of the Grogan family enters the Burke home. But even this is shadowed with darkness, because it occurs in a manner that has overtones of the birth of Moses (with the older sister watching the cast out child) and the birth of Jesus (with the family not finding room in the “inn” - in this case, shepherds).
This is no coincidence, because the Thoenes make a strong connection between the suffering of believers and the suffering of Christ. Kate reminds herself that the scars of suffering “make you more like Him” (p.185), and some hungry children with simple childlike faith state that they must eat “The bread of Christ ... the bread of suffering.” (p.199). And when the suffering are cast out of their homeland, they are reminded by angels “Remember Christ the Savior, the child for whom there was no room!” (p.302). The only flaw here is that Kate incorrectly insists that suffering must not be accepted as God’s will (p.163), although what she means by this is correct: Don’t be passive in suffering, but “Pray instead for a clear eye and a firm plan to bring your people relief. Work hard to make this hard life better for as many as you can.” (p.163).
Reflecting on the series as a whole, there is room for some criticism. Mad Molly’s prophetic rantings based on what she hears from the angels is creative, but it wrongly gives credence to a form of divine revelation outside of the Word. The positive portrayal of Catholicism is certainly rooted in history, but I could not help but wonder whether it is also rooted in a contemporary spirit of ecumenism, because the very real doctrinal divergencies between Protestants and Catholics was conveniently overlooked.
But these weaknesses aside, this is a series that excels in most departments. The story-telling is flowing, convincing, suspenseful, displaying a real craft with words, and a genuinely gripping style that is difficult to put down. The historical setting is depicted with startling realism, and although the glimpse into Irish history was at times troubling and frightening, it was accurate. As the authors note in the epilogue, the potato famine in the 1840s was one of the most horrific disasters in Irish history, as nearly one million perished of starvation and disease and another one and a half million emigrated – fully one-third – of the Irish race at the time. But above all, the themes are not shallow, but reflect a very honest picture of what it means to be a Christian in a world of sin and suffering.
This theme is especially clear in “All Rivers to the Sea,” as evidenced in the significance of the title. Mad Molly says prophetically “We’ll none of us survive! The river flows, don’t ye know? It carried off man and beast, grass and flower, to the sea. Always to the sea! It’s over for us.” (p.153) Joseph later explains: “Life is about people, and not about things or places or land. A river that rises in the mountains only to die in a bog is a sad, useless thing, Martin. We must be like the stream that bursts through all dams and finds its way to the sea. To a new life in a new way.” (p.270-1) And the angels admonish at the end: “Remember the River from whence you came! Remember the Sea which all are bound to cross one day!” (p.302)
At the end of the novel there is some taste of justice and redemption. Yet the bitter taste of suffering remains, forcing Joseph and Kate and the people of Ballynockanor to take drastic measures to ensure their ongoing survival. With the last chapter of “All Rivers to the Sea”, one chapter of their lives is at an end. The characters must move on to a new chapter, even if it is clouded with adversity and suffering.
Yet it is precisely this that makes “The Galway Chronicles” so appealing. Unlike many contemporary Christian writers, the Thoenes’ do not offer us a “feel-good” pill with a “they all lived happily ever after” ending. Instead, they are not afraid to make their readers journey through the depths of tragedy and despair, nor to leave them with a bitter taste in their mouth. Some readers might prefer a fairy tale ending, but this is real life, not a fairy tale. And in real life, the presence of sin and suffering is ongoing, even at the end of a book. The solution is not found in a pretend perfect life, but the solution is found in the work of Jesus Christ who gives hope in the midst of a life of sin and suffering. The happy ending comes only when this last chapter of history comes to an end, and when He returns.
In this sense the Thoenes’ boldness in presenting a harsh picture of a life of suffering, and their refusal to provide a “happy” ending, is heartily refreshing. They do not do the gospel a disservice - as so many other writers do - by suggesting that believers on earth can expect happy endings here on earth, before heaven. These novels show that there is no heaven here on earth, but that the hope of heaven offers real encouragement in a life of earthly suffering. And that certainly makes them worth reading.