leer en español
ler em português
A review of Clifford Thurlow’s We Shall Pass, published by Luath Press, Edinburgh.
In his poignant novel We Shall Pass, Clifford Thurlow delivers a masterful narrative that echoes the emotional depth of Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, while charting its own course through the tumultuous landscape of the Spanish Civil War.
At its heart is a love story that transcends class barriers. Robert “Robbie” Gillan, a working-class Scotsman, and Alice Sheridan, daughter of a British intelligence officer, forge an unlikely bond amid the chaos of war. Their relationship unfolds with a tenderness reminiscent of Orwell’s reflections on human connection in times of conflict.
Thurlow’s prose shines in moments of quiet intensity: “They knew nothing about each other and everything about each other.” This simple line captures the essence of love in wartime—immediate, profound, and transcendent of social conventions.
The novel doesn’t shy away from the brutality of war. The vivid depiction of Suicide Hill and the Battle of Jarama resonates with the grim reality described in Wilfred Owen’s war poetry. As one character reflects: “Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.”
What elevates Thurlow’s work is his ability to illuminate the personal amid the political. When Robbie witnesses the aftermath of a fascist atrocity, his response is gut-wrenching: “What’s wrong with these fockin people?” This raw moment embodies the novel’s central question about humanity’s capacity for both cruelty and compassion.
“We Shall Pass” stands as a significant contribution to historical fiction, reminding us that beyond the grand narratives of war lie countless personal stories of courage, love, and sacrifice. Thurlow has crafted a novel that honors the volunteers who fought for democracy in Spain while delivering a timeless tale of love against all odds.
The novel draws to a quiet, resonant close as the characters’ paths, shaped by war and love, finally converge. Bonds once broken are carefully mended, and hidden acts of loyalty reveal their lasting weight in gestures as understated as they are profound. Though shadowed by loss—personal and political—the ending pulses with the stubborn heartbeat of idealism, a testament to those who dared to believe in something greater. In the stillness of a familiar place, reconciliation takes root, and amid the sorrow, a revelation—delicate, life-affirming—emerges, offering a fragile but enduring promise of renewal.
alfredobehrens@gmail.com