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Back Margery Kempe Save as PDF
Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Biographical Notes
  3. Title Page
  4. INTRODUCTION
  5. MARGERY KEMPE
  6. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  7. Dedication
  8. Front
  9. PART ONE
  10. 1
  11. 2
  12. 3
  13. 4
  14. 5
  15. 6
  16. 7
  17. 8
  18. 9
  19. 10
  20. 11
  21. 12
  22. 13
  23. 14
  24. 15
  25. 16
  26. PART TWO
  27. 17
  28. 18
  29. 19
  30. 20
  31. 21
  32. 22
  33. 23
  34. 24
  35. 25
  36. 26
  37. 27
  38. 28
  39. 29
  40. 30
  41. 31
  42. PART THREE
  43. 32
  44. 33
  45. 34
  46. 35
  47. 36
  48. 37
  49. 38
  50. 39
  51. 40
  52. 41
  53. 42
  54. 43
  55. 44
  56. 45
  57. 46
  58. PART FOUR
  59. 47
  60. 48
  61. 49
  62. 50
  63. 51
  64. 52
  65. 53
  66. 54
  67. 55
  68. 56
  69. MY MARGERY, MARGERY’S BOB

The road ran straight towards the sky, permanent. Margery and Jesus walked along the ridge, their long shadows bowing into the valley, curvatures of agreement. A kite sailed in buoyant flight, extended wings and forked tail in sharp silhouette. Margery had confidence in her body and the naked Jesus was an athlete; when he’d sprained his ankle he was mad at the ankle, not at himself. The muddy river wound between steep banks. The Saracens forbade anyone to dive under water or swim across to gather willows. Pilgrims often drowned; a paralysis came over them even though Jesus was a strong swimmer.

“Did you miss me, Jesus?” Her question twisted him beyond endurance like the fibers of a rope. It had taken days to unwind; now he was cold and aloof again. Just the tip of his lanky cock was interested in Margery. He jogged ahead up the gray path on his way to Rome. Soft puffs hovered above his footprints. Margery held her arms out as though to touch him through the air. She thought they would always be together. She called but he didn’t look back.

•

The friars welcomed Margery and sold her the hair and bones of saints, a kind of pornography in that even fragments of the aroused body have value. Margery spent so much money that the friars wanted her to remain with them. The Saracens who organized the tour also admired her zeal and tears. Everyone liked Margery except her own countrymen, who felt trapped in the sound of her voice.

•

The pilgrims backtracked from Jerusalem to Ramleh and returned to their ship. Many fell ill, vomiting and feverish; Margery heard their groans and violent coughs on deck and then their horrible cries below where they fucked while the ship endlessly pitched. Fear made them clumsy. Margery stumbled on the chief mate and her maid in a hidden corner of the deck: he was joyously stroking the girl’s small breasts, sending shock waves through her entire body. Her nipples grew rigid as marbles. He was thirty years old; her skin was so soft he started to purr. He saw the maid as a symbol of abundance, a luck he couldn’t encompass because it included his own life. She thought, “Now I know I have something men want.” She wasn’t sure if she was still a virgin, which line had to be crossed.

21

They docked in Venice on July 18. The round-trip had taken eleven weeks. The pilgrims abandoned Margery again and set out for Rome. In the Piazza San Marco a beggar with a hump caught her eye. His coat was of carry-marry cloth and he was about fifty. She cried, “What’s wrong with your back?”