Marcus Annan, a
tourneyer famed for his prowess on the battlefield, thought he could keep the
secrets of his past buried forever. But when a mysterious crippled monk demands
Annan help him find justice for the transgressions of sixteen years ago, Annan
is forced to leave the tourneys and join the Third Crusade. Wounded in battle
and hunted by enemies on every side, he rescues an English noblewoman from an
infidel prison camp and flees to Constantinople. But, try as he might, he
cannot escape the past. Amid the blood and sweat of a war he doesn’t even
believe in, he is forced at last to face long-hidden secrets and sins and to
bare his soul to the mercy of a God he thought he had abandoned years ago.
As my sisters can attest, I was–yes–squealing with delight
the first time I read this. (In fact, screaming with delight would probably be
more accurate, but we’ll leave that aside.) And–what's more–it almost made me
cry, something in my life that only about three other books have ever been able
to do.
First off, some particulars: it’s very well-written in an
excellent style (if the two can ever be separated). There’s an occasional modernism
(particularly in the dialogue), but it’s not too jarring and overall works
well. I particularly appreciated Weiland’s clear-eyed, balanced view of the
Crusades, and how she brought out both the strengths and weaknesses of the
medieval church.
As a whole I’d say it’s for mature readers (adult or older
high-school). It’s never disturbing or indecent, but it is intense and there’s quite
a bit of violent action and corresponding romance. At the same time, it’s written
in such a way that the exact import of certain situations would go right over
your head if you didn't know what they were talking about (another instance of
the excellence of the writing).
And now on to the rest of it…
My sister and I have come to the conclusion that it's a
whole lot easier to convincingly incorporate biblical language and conflicts into
medieval literature. Whether or not that’s accurate, Behold the Dawn is a superb example. God and the worship of God are very present–as well as each of
the main characters' personal calling to serve Him.
Spoilers may be inevitable in the following and I’ll try not
to give too many (hence I won’t give names), but I do want to delve a little
deeper here than a basic review warrants–into the metaphors and matter that good
stories are made of–the matter that calls for tears and laughter.
In Behold the Dawn the stakes are high and the characters complex.
Redemption and damnation are played out together: bad characters change for the
good, and good characters go downhill and stay
there–highlighting the danger. It’s realistic: rosy endings aren’t handed
out to everyone. It’s weighty: details are told by inference, insinuation, and
allusion, creating a depth where you fill in the blanks for yourself and
establishing that give-and-take between the author’s and reader’s imagination which all good literature incites.
There are messy, sinful situations, but the writing tone never
crosses the line of dignity, descending into mush. The romance between the main
characters is powerful, clearly (and pointedly) coming to what it should be
between a man and wife, but never going blatant. Also (and this is very well
done), their relationship isn’t in an encapsulated bubble, but is a part of and
affected by the entire overarching story as a whole.
Now–all that being out of the way–we come to the part
that really starts to thrill. The protagonist is a sinner, but due to metaphor
(for which you can check out
last week's post), he is also a
Christ-figure and through the entire story the glimpses of a redeemer-kinsman
are
absolutely incredible. He
literally covers her and–in essence–really
does die for her–laying down his life as a faithful husband–passing through
death for her.
And of course, there’s the redemption aspect: the tingly,
knock-you-down, hard-as-rock redemption–played out in time and space with mounting tension. The climax hits and you’re caught up in a breathless whirlwind of joy–the
joy that calls for tears. Joy at the root of which lies grace–pursuing, cutting
grace, razor-sharp–the grace that grabs hold and will not let you go.
P.S. K.M. Weiland is a Christian author living and writing
in Nebraska. On her writing blog,
Helping Writers Become Authors, she describes
herself as, “A fighter, a writer, a child of God.” Isn’t that a wonderful description?
