Available:*
Library | Call Number | Status |
|---|---|---|
Searching... Oakdale Library | FICTION DEL | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Park Grove Library (Cottage Grove) | FICTION DEL | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | FICTION DEL | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
In the summer of 1922, Robert Shannon, a Marine chaplain and a young American hero of the Great War, lands in Ireland. He still suffers from shell shock, and his mentor hopes that a journey Robert had always wanted to make-to find his family roots along the banks of the River Shannon-will restore his equilibrium and his vocation. But there is more to the story: On his return from the war, Robert had witnessed startling corruption in the Archdiocese of Boston. He has been sent to Ireland to secure his silence-permanently. As Robert faces the dangers of a strife-torn Ireland roiling in civil war, the nation's myths and people, its beliefs and traditions, unfurl healingly before him. And the River Shannon gives comfort to the young man who is inspired by the words of his mentor: "Find your soul and you'll live."
Author Notes
Francis James Joseph Raphael Delaney was born in County Tipperary, Ireland on October 24, 1942. Before becoming a full-time writer, he was a radio and television reporter for BBC broadcasting. He wrote about two dozen fiction and nonfiction books during his lifetime including Ireland, Jim Hawkins and the Curse of Treasure Island, The Celts, A Walk to the Western Isles, and James Joyce's Odyssey: A Guide to the Dublin of Ulysses. He died following a stroke on February 21, 2017 at the age of 74.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (2)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Delaney's meandering novel follows an American priest as he travels along Ireland's Shannon River in search of his family roots, and while it's peace he seeks, trouble has a way of finding him. After witnessing the atrocities of WWI, Father Robert Shannon returns to the United States shell-shocked, and the church eventually sends him to Ireland to restore himself and seek out his origins along the famed Shannon River. Along the way, he gets by through the kindness of strangers and witnesses Ireland's descent into civil war. With leads to his family history few and far between, Robert finds comfort in the home of a nurse he knew while serving as a chaplain during the war in France. Meanwhile, there's a hired killer from the states hot on his tail, and an unknowing Robert could make for a very easy target. The narrative is slow and thoughtful, spiritual though not overbearing and rounded out with a nice vein of intrigue. Though the family roots/hired gun mix may sound bizarre, Delaney handles the disparate thematic elements with a sure hand. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Library Journal Review
In 1922, Robert Shannon, a young American priest, is sent to Ireland to recover from shell shock he received as a marine chaplain on the front lines in Normandy. Pained by the tragedy he experienced in the trenches and demoralized by the corruption he encountered when he returned to the Boston archdiocese, Shannon is searching for his soul as much as for his family's Irish roots. His religious mentor, sensing Shannon's torment, has arranged for a network of priests, teachers, and friends to watch over and shelter him during his travels. From them, Shannon learns Irish myths, legends, and history as well as the politics of the recently fought rebellion. He also reunites with a nurse with whom he served in France, which causes him to rethink his future as a priest. Delaney's latest Irish saga (after, e.g., Tipperary) is filled with the warmth and richness of the Irish character found in his previous books as well as a satisfying dose of romance. A hit man hired by the archdiocese of Boston is the only minor irritation in an otherwise compelling and thoroughly entertaining read. Highly recommended. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 11/1/08.]-Susan Clifford Braun, Aerospace Corp., El Segundo, CA (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Chapter 1 At the vulnerable age of thirty, Robert Shannon lost his soul. Nothing is worse; no greater danger exists. Only sinners lose their souls, it's said, through the evil that they do. Not Robert Shannon. Incapable of anything but good, he lost his soul through savagery that he witnessed, horrors that he saw. And then, as he was repairing himself and his beliefs, he was ravaged further in the pursuit of his own faith. When you ?lose--?or have ripped from ?you--?the spirit that directs you, you have two options. Fight for your soul and win it back, and you'll evermore be a noble human being. Fail, and you die from loss of truth. And so, just before dawn one morning in 1922, Robert Shannon stood on the deck of a slow old freighter on the southwest coast of Ireland and looked inland. This was the point to which he had come in search of his lost best self. If he could have explained clearly what he was doing, he would have said that he wanted to find the man he had been. If he could have described lucidly the essence of his journey across the Atlantic, he would have expressed the wish that here, in the country of his forebears, some ancient magic of ancestry might restore him. Could it be that in the old land, of which he had so often dreamed, he might find, to begin with, hope? But what he desperately needed to rediscover was belief. On the port side, the western hills slept low and dark; to starboard rose the tall and ragged box of a ruined castle. A lighthouse came gliding into view, its lantern's beam fading against the opening skies. These were sights he had expected to see, and as they approached they comforted ?him--?insofar as he could feel comfort. The dark rocks, though watching carefully, offered no threat, and the freighter steamed in, composed now in the estuary's calm after weeks of coping with the burly sea. Find your soul and you'll live. Ashore, colors began to wake up and stretch. A gray triangle became a lawn of green. In a whitewashed cottage wall, a dark oblong shape developed into a turquoise door. The large house on the hill strengthened from gray to yellow. In a sloping field, ?black-?and-? white cows drifted, heavy and swaying, toward their gate, expecting to be milked. Forward of the ship, seabirds flapped up from the little waves. On a rock a cormorant waited, an etching in black angles. The spreading river shone like gray satin; later it would turn sapphire under the blue sky. As the light brightened, the captain came and stood at the rail with his lone passenger, for whom he had to find a clear mooring in this uncertain place. Once having landed this man safely and well, he could take the freighter back into the channel. Not for the first time, Captain Aaronson heard his passenger murmur something and sigh. The square tower of the village church remained in shadow. Despite the ?half-?light, the ship discovered the little old pier, made a wide curve, and chugged in. Disembarkation took no more than a few minutes. The seamen dropped a ladder over the side, and the passenger took the captain's hand as though he wished to keep it. "Thank you, Captain. For your"--he ?halted--?"for ?your--?such kindness." Without a further word he turned and, with his back to the waiting land, and made hunchbacked by his large rucksack, he descended the ladder. When his feet touched the jetty, he stood for a moment; indeed, he clung to the ladder. Then he took a step backward and turned away. Looking down from the rail, the captain and some crewmen watched him lurch off, this man who had rarely spoken to them. As one said, "He spooked us all," because he moved around so silently. He'd slipped and slid with the roll of the sea. He'd taken the rain in his face like a man trying to wake up. He'd inhaled deeply the h Excerpted from Shannon: A Novel by Frank Delaney All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
