Redemption Falls

Told in the myriad voices of those who bore witness to the events described herein, "Redemption Falls" is at once both historical fiction profiling the Irish experience during and after the American Civil War, and a lugubrious chronicle of the human condition under duress. As a student of the American Civil War, the Emerald Isle's Joseph O' Connor employs the presumed idiom of the period; his characters come to life as they chronicle events. The illiterate and semi-literate seem woefully so. The educated speak to us in the wordy formality of the Victorian period. Visually, O'Connor bolsters his gritty tale by weaving in anachronistic poetry, army recruiting and `wanted' posters; effects that convene a finely tuned `1860s' cadence to Redemption Falls. The author's laborious description of a painting depicting a headdress'd American Indian gives the warrior life. Adroit at writing sentence fragments, O'Connor seamlessly shifts scenes, locations and voices--both fictional and real--from one time frame to another. O'Connor forces readers to savor every crafty word. Mildly akin to Charles Frazier's melancholy "Cold Mountain," O'Connor's story unfolds in post-Civil War America. Former Irish rebel Cornelius O'Keeffe serves as titular governor of an unnamed western territory, although readers might assume the story is set in Montana. For O'Keeffe's character bears such striking resemblance to the first real-life governor of the Territory of Montana, Thomas Francis Meagher, that it's unlikely the similarity is coincidental. Following commutation of death sentences for perfidy against the noble Crown in Ireland, both Irishmen wind up as prisoners in Van Diemen's Land (Australia, Tasmania)--a life sentence they quickly escape via boat. Subsequent events find both our fictional protagonist and real-life Meagher in New York where they marry into society's crust. Both men serve with checkerboard distinction for the Federals during the Civil War. After the war and brief lecture careers, they head for the frontier to pursue roughshod careers that thrive there. Fueled by indomitable courage and the bottle, territorial governorships and decline await the once vainglorious O'Keeffe and Meagher. Our fictional O'Keeffe and his fiery wife Lucia-Cruz reside in Redemption Falls where himself is routinely mocked and despised by its citizens, many of whom served in the Confederacy. Unkempt, sullen, often drunk, the governor plants one foot in the past where the ghosts of soldiers he sent to their deaths haunt him. In the present he's as unforgiving of himself as he is towards others. Con O'Keeffe boasts no friends save for a couple of abrasive deputies. Following a tip, Con O'Keeffe happens on a grisly murder scene in the backcountry and discovers a filthy young Irish urchin lurking about. Defiant and mute, the pre-teen Jeremiah `Jeddo' Mooney faces O'Keeffe displaying a flash of the same pugnacious spirit that the governor himself boasts. Unable to find Jeddo'

This is a story - multiple stories actually, bound by common threads that are not altogether evident in the early chapters. It may be best read at times of quiet when interruptions are rare and the mind has time to gather and ponder - but stick with it! For what will seem at first a series of disjointed vignettes, somehow linked to the enigmatic Eliza Mooney on a cross-country quest to who-knows-where, will expand into an epic tale of many whose lives entwine in post Civil War America. O'Connor's story provides the reader a vicarious experience of living the frustration and ugliness of when America was at war with itself, and in particular, the desperate times immediately afterward. The book is definitely a cut above with its profuse incorporation of period illustrations, song lyrics, photography, poetry, letters, and language - that may at times seem heavy on the ear - so descriptive it might have been penned by one who lived during those wasted days. The reader is also rewarded with a surprise twist at the end of its telling - enough to have brought shivers to the spine of this reader - perhaps not unlike those that coursed the body of Eliza Mooney as she set out on foot to walk her long dusty road to begin the telling.

"A hard history. A tale of war. Then came the act that ennobles this bleak tale, shading it, perhaps, to a love story." REDEMPTION FALLS is a kaleidoscope of bright and dark pieces that forms a stunning tale. The surprising narrator has assembled memories, letters, transcripts, interviews, old fliers and newspaper clippings to tell the story of General and Mrs. O'Keeffe and a drummer boy who captured their attention. A cacophony of characters screams from the pages, their voices all vying for attention. Most notable is James (Con) O'Keeffe, who might as well have gained that nickname from his status as a prisoner, self-released (without permission) and thereafter quickly took himself off to America. Sharing center stage with him is his wife, Lucia-Cruz Rodriguez and Ortega McLelland-O'Keeffe, a woman of great beauty, means and talent. She provides strength and support --- often unearned --- to her ungrateful husband. If only she could make him happy. After service in the army, during which time Con O'Keeffe made a name for himself (although opinions vary widely as to whether good or bad), he wins the very dubious honor of an appointment by President Lincoln as Governor of his new home state. He has taken up residence in Redemption Falls, in the Mountain Territory, an imaginary town served by roads and rails that sometimes become too dangerous to travel. There are some rough people hanging about in the Mountain Territory, and some hard times coming. Lucia, reunited with her husband after the war, turns to writing poetry as an outlet for her unfulfilled emotions. The man she fell in love with has changed. The General --- or is it Governor now? --- often turns surly, bordering on abusive. The couple's marriage, which started its decline from nearly the first day of their matrimony, continues on a downward slope. Lucia is at a loss to understand why. When not brooding about his slowly revealed past, O'Keeffe dives deeper into the bottle, pushed there by that selfsame past. "How wonderful that would be: to remember nothing. To be blank, and the road still before you. What would he do differently? Nearly everything, perhaps." The Governor's drinking has become something of a legend. Local citizens know not to bother him when he is in his cups, for his moodiness is not reserved for his wife alone. "Even back in those days there were whisperings about the drinking --- was his stallion shot from under him as he led the zouaves at Fredericksburg, or was its rider the worse for liquor, as some claimed? They say his temper was vicious, drunk or sober..." But it may not be the drink that is O'Keeffe's undoing. It may be the child. "Twas never proven it was the child done all them things. He got the blame for every wrong was ever done in that bugtusslin dump." For some reason, Con O'Keeffe wants to parent the boy. Keeping O'Keeffe --- and everyone else --- at arm's length, Young Jeddo Mooney remains mute, having seen atrocities that no 12-year-ol

Over the weekend I devoured Redemption Falls by Joseph O'Connor. Although there is not a unified, authoritative voice (rather a compilation of "contemporary" sources that moves the book along somewhat jerkily), the stories, language, history strikes this reader as authentic, moving and remarkable. A very good read indeed.