The Last Prince of Ireland, by Morgan Llywelyn

The Last Prince of Ireland
by Morgan Llywelyn

The Celtic World of Morgan Llywelyn

I should be exhausted. After reading The Ten Thousand I turn around and read this novel, also the story of a long and arduous trek with a fraction of the marchers who set out left to see the journey's end. The other was various fourth century BC Hellenes. The Last Prince of Ireland takes place between January 1 and January 15, 1603, and Donal O'Sullivan, the title character, started out with closer to one thousand people, but these I will always remember as the individuals they were.

It is one year almost to the day since the devastating defeat of the Irish at Kinsale. Donal O'Sullivan, who had life pretty sweet as a darling of Elizabeth Tudor's English, has burned all his English clothes to become part of the rebellion. After Kinsale he has lost everything but the thousand followers literally fiollowing him north to Leitrim to join Hugh O'Neill against the English as a last bid for freedom. Each day and its hardships, triumphs and disasters, is chronicled in turn. Smaller dramas build throughout the novel, sneaking up on and grabbing you so you cannot put the book down. There is love, jealousy, rivalry, treachery, greed, and heroism. Only a few of the party make it to their goal, but every story has a resolution that not only can be believed, but you want to believe.

It took me a while to get into the book, what with the unceasingly bitter struggles and sorrow, but as the individual stories develop and you begin to pic up the central themes, you are hooked. The expedition is an allegory for the destruction of Ireland's Gaelic history and culture. O'Sullivan himself comes to realize it, and he holds on tight not to be responsible for the collapse of his people and symbolically his world. A disturbing part of the story is how the Irish turned against each other as some hedged their bets by sucking up to Elizabeth Tudor's England and others,. for whatever personal reason, fought to the end. O'Sullivan's people face not only bitter cold, blinding snowstorms, hunger and a raging river, but attacks from both English troops and local bands bent on currying their favor.

My favorite subplot was the rivalry and debate between the two Jesuit priests, each the confessor of one of Ireland's last leaders. This is sayign a lot as I have been awash of late with books with faith and heresy as central issues and am rather sick of it. The entire role of the Catholic church in the rape of Ireland by the Tudor dynasty is appalling. The younger priest in this story, Father Collins, has to spread his understanding of God broadly just to survive with his belief intact.

One of these days I will have to thank the author for putting flesh to the bones of the Irish history I love so much. A friend tells me if she wants to know about the history of a place or event, she just reads the historical accounts. Ah no, I say, for then she misses all the wondrous possibilities of what it may have been to live the history. That is what this book is all about, seeing history being made from within.