The Hour Will Come: A Tale of an Alpine Cloister. Volumes I and II

In Short

Set against the stark backdrop of the Tyrolean Alps, this novel traces the life of Donatus, an orphan raised in strict isolation within a Benedictine monastery. Haunted by a mysterious, supposedly cursed past, he is groomed for the priesthood by monks who fear that any contact with the outside world will invite catastrophe. When an encounter with a young woman named Beata shatters his sheltered existence, Donatus is forced to choose between his vows and his humanity. It is a brooding, atmospheric study of obsession, asceticism, and the inevitable triumph of nature over cold dogma.

The Story

The story opens in the mid-14th century on the desolate Mals heath, where a dying woman leaves her infant son to the care of a remote, severe Alpine cloister. The monks, believing the child is born of sin and subject to a dark curse, raise him in absolute sequestration. They name him Donatus and dedicate him to the service of God, hoping to "protect" him from the corrupting influence of the world. As he matures, Donatus develops a spiritual temperament but grows increasingly stifled by the narrow, stony walls of the abbey and the chilling influence of Correntian, a monk whose fanatical hatred of the flesh leads him to suggest grotesque penances to ensure the boy’s purity.

The conflict reaches a breaking point when Donatus reaches maturity. Haunted by visions and repressed longings, he experiences an inner awakening that the monks interpret as a sign of his impending fall. Simultaneously, Count Reichenberg—a nobleman haunted by his own past actions—begins to suspect that the young novice is actually his own son, whom he had discarded years earlier due to the manipulations of a rival. When the Count attempts to reclaim him, the monastic authorities and the youth himself collide in a battle of wills. Donatus, deeply conditioned by his upbringing, rejects his father and the world, clinging instead to the only life he knows.

The arc shifts when Donatus eventually ventures out, blind and vulnerable, guided by Beata, a waif-like girl whose own mysterious, marginal life has left her attuned to the wild, dark landscape. As they traverse the mountains, fleeing the reach of both the Count and the authorities, their bond deepens into a profound, transcendent love. However, the weight of their isolation and the trauma of their pasts prove too great. Returning to the cloister to find it ruined and abandoned, Donatus realizes that the structures of his former life—both physical and spiritual—have collapsed. In a final, desperate act of devotion, he carries the dying Beata into the snow-dusted peaks. Following a vision of her spirit, he leaps into an abyss, his mortal struggle ending in an avalanche that marks the death of his old self and the liberation of his spirit.

How It Unfolds

The arrival of the innocent An infant is left at the gates of a remote, severe Alpine cloister to be raised in total isolation. The monks argue over his fate, eventually deciding to shelter him from a supposed curse by sealing him within their walls.

The growth of the prisoner Donatus matures into a sensitive youth who senses the beauty of the world outside, yet he is constantly suppressed by the fanatical monk Correntian. He struggles with emerging desires and a growing sense of imprisonment, questioning why his existence is limited to a garden.

The encounter with the past Count Reichenberg visits the region, haunted by the memory of the wife and child he cast away long ago. He recognizes his own features in Donatus and attempts to assert his paternal rights, only to be met with the boy’s total, indoctrinated rejection.

The flight into the unknown Driven by an existential crisis, Donatus leaves the monastery and encounters Beata, a girl who has lived a life of shadow and flight. Together they wander the treacherous alpine landscape, forming a bond that defies the rigid categories of their upbringing.

The final ascent Returning to find his home abandoned, Donatus reaches the limit of his physical and emotional endurance. He carries the dying Beata toward the high, frozen peaks, where he chooses to abandon his mortal life to follow her into death.

The People

Donatus begins as a blank slate, a boy whose soul is carefully cultivated by monks to be as "single" and pure as a saint. As he grows, his innate yearning for life clashes with his indoctrination, transforming him from a passive object of the church into a tragic figure who finds his true identity only in final, reckless defiance.

Correntian serves as the primary antagonist, a monk defined by his own internal darkness and self-loathing. He wants to crush all human joy in Donatus, viewing the boy’s attractive features and "wanton" eyes as signs of inherent sin. He represents the destructive power of a faith that fears humanity rather than embracing it.

Count Reichenberg is a man of status who has been hollowed out by pride and deceit. He spends the story seeking to rectify the sins of his past, wanting to reclaim his son to fill the void of his own ending lineage. His failure to reach Donatus highlights the irreparable damage caused by his early cruelty.

Beata is a delicate, ethereal presence who acts as both guide and catalyst for Donatus. Having survived on the margins of society, she possesses an intuitive understanding of the world that the cloistered boy lacks. Her love for Donatus is selfless and absolute, ultimately guiding him toward his final transition.

In Its Own Voice

"In this house nothing is ours--but suffering and the hope of redemption."

Correntian reminds the nurse of the grim, ascetic reality required of everyone living within the convent’s walls.

"The loving glances that you raise to Heaven are wanton, they wanton with the sun and the blue sky that soothe your senses."

Correntian condemns the youth's appreciation of nature, interpreting the simple joy of existence as a spiritual failing.

"The earth lay dead and dumb as if the sun could never rise again, as if love had perished for ever--and yet it will return, bringing softer airs, under whose quickening breath Heaven and earth shall once more be reconciled."

The narrator offers a final reflection on the cyclical, restorative nature of the world after the tragedy concludes.

What It's Really About

The central argument concerns the fundamental incompatibility between the rigid, life-denying requirements of institutional religion and the essential, vibrant nature of human love. The book asks whether a life lived in total avoidance of temptation is truly a life at all, or merely a slow, spiritual death. It explores the idea that "curses" are often just the long-term consequences of human coldness and pride. Ultimately, the story suggests that the attempt to wall off the spirit from the natural world is a futile, destructive endeavor, and that only through the vulnerability of deep human connection—even if it leads to physical destruction—can one find a form of genuine, transcendent grace.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate slow-burning, atmospheric gothic fiction set in dramatic, unforgiving landscapes will find much to admire here. The book captures a specific, haunting feeling of solitude—the sensation of being trapped in a high mountain valley where time has stopped. It is not a fast read; the prose is formal and deliberate, reflecting the weight of the monastic culture it portrays.

Modern readers should be prepared for the intense, period-specific moralizing of the monks, which can feel claustrophobic, and the slightly melodramatic, fable-like quality of the characters' actions. There are moments where the archaic, almost fairy-tale logic of the "blessed maidens" and the "blind worm" may feel jarringly distinct from the more realistic, grounded depiction of the Count’s political maneuvers. However, the emotional core—the tragic bond between Donatus and Beata—remains powerful. You read this book for its sense of place and its unflinching look at the tension between the soul’s desire for freedom and the iron bars of tradition. It stays with you as a meditation on how easily a person can be broken by the very systems intended to "save" them, and the tragic beauty of finding one’s way only at the threshold of the end.