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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

Margaret wore golden hairpins, a silver belt, a slashed tunic, and a long red train. She had a parrot: green body, pink wingtips, and blue forehead; he bit his perch. Margaret admired Margery’s capacity. Feeling full made Margaret anxious as though something noisy had occurred.

She gave Margery a hamper with ingredients for a beef stew, filled her bottle with wine, and added eight balendine coins as well. Margery wept so hard she choked for air; her jaw distended and her eyes bulged. The parrot shrieked and splattered water in its bath and for some reason Dame Margaret clapped her hands.

It became fashionable to entertain Margery. Another Roman, Marcelle, asked her to dinner two days a week. He made a good living: they ate roasted quail stuffed with pomegranate seeds and marinated in honey; fritters of pike and eel mixed with dates, ginger, apricots, pine nuts, and parsley; an infusion of laurel and fennel; artichokes flattened out and fried; a comfit of squash, sugar, ginger, lemon, and honey; and fried custard, crisp and melting. Hys wyfe was gret wyth childe; pregnancy transformed her into a blood-lined nest. She wanted Margery to be godmother.

A single lady fed her on Wednesday, a blonde with big teeth and gold lashes who had a joyous love of company. For instance, in order to come she concentrated on fantasies in which three or four people attained together the utmost moment of pleasure.

The other days Margery begged from door to door. She was always hungry; as she lost weight her legs felt longer. She imitated Jesus’s cold mobility when she walked. He was an incomprehensible silence.

29

As Margery, I wake up and enter the dark street hoping to catch a glimpse of Jesus and trying to avoid him. I miss him frantically but can’t face his lack of interest. I didn’t know I had a cunt till he wriggled his fingers inside me.

I’m ashamed of myself. Jesus must be seeing someone else: the speculation takes shape in the dark and I follow my replacement, losing and sighting him in narrow murky alleys. He has a huge craggy head, bald and ugly as Punch. Torches and candles cast halos in the acrid mist and beige moths circle the flames. The streets are noise but the moths are silence.