BooksBarbecue
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

Margery needed allies. She returned to Wenslawe to test the effect of their prayers. She needed to talk quickly in a clear voice to build a constituency of belief. The German understood her English and she told him her story from childhood to that hour. “Last night the holy virgins decorated my bed with flowers and spices—Jesus slept there—” Her tears made her more intelligible to herself—grueling nausea and self-disgust—but that idea is too far ahead. Wenslawe thought an evil spirit had seized her but her frantic hands looked more like they were trying to seize.

Wenslawe began to have misgivings so Margery confronted him with the failings of his own life: He’d made up lies about himself. He wanted to be more aggressive, more sure. His mother had died on Saturday and he acted as though it hadn’t happened. He didn’t want other people to see his sadness. She’d had a disease that glued her eyes shut. She’d worn big hats. He’d admired her for wanting to be different. She’d made a statement.

The priest felt caught in a dream whose parts were not disjunct but overrelated. He went to mass and wept so deeply his tears wet his vestments and the ornaments of the altar.

So this good man was not embarrassed to side with Margery against her countrymen. He ordered the Grey Friars to take her in and he instructed her to wear black again for her own safety. Wenslawe was her first conquest in Rome: the Romans loved him even more and loved Margery too; they invited her to dinner.

24

On November 9, 1414, God said to Margery, “Daughter, I’m glad, especially because you love the manhood of my son.” These words unrolled from his parted lips on gold ribbon. Margery ascended on the beam of her upturned gaze.

Margery had never seen God before. He resembled Jesus, but his blue eyes were faded and a wreath of silvery olive leaves crowned thinning blond hair. He was comfortable only with servants; he chatted with his wine steward, the servitors, the gardener, the musicians. When Margery asked what she should call him, God became silent, gazing with the family’s dazzled expression into the branches of an old oak. Was he trying to remember? Although he had created himself out of shadowy rage, he seemed mild and dry as a country vicar. He said, “I will marry you and show you my secrets so you can live with me forever.”