The Testament of
Mary
Colm Tóibín
Penguin Books £7.99
(978-0-241-96297-8)
Church Times Bookshop £7.20 (Use code
CT205 )
COLM TÓIBÍN writes
beautifully. Nevertheless, this book will please only some of its
readers. The Mary of the title is not one that is easily
recognisable from biblical, church, or artistic traditions. Tóibín
does not paint a picture of the meek young girl whom many have in
mind as the mother of Jesus. This Mary is angry and fearful, tired,
and unable to smile. She tells of the foolishness of men. The years
have taken their toll.
This Mary did not stay at
the foot of the cross to watch as her son died, but ran for her
life, fearful that they would come for her next. Now in Ephesus,
living as a near-recluse, she recalls the time when her son - she
is unable to bring herself to use his name - was the centre of
attention in and around Jerusalem. Her comfort is a statue of the
goddess Artemis, hidden away, but providing the security of knowing
she can talk to it if she needs to.
This Mary calls the
disciples "misfits", none of whom is "normal". She is still visited
by two of them, and, like many an older person, complains when they
move things in her house. For her, the resurrection was a dream;
redemption of the world was "not worth it".
Tóibín gives us an
all-too-human picture of a mother living with grief. He challenges
the usual depiction of Mary, and restores her humanity, but her
supposed lack of faith leaves me feeling slightly
uncomfortable.
The real challenge for me,
though - and I was surprised that I found this harder to accept
than the image of Mary - was the idea of the newly raised Lazarus's
not being returned to full health, but weak and ghostlike. "And
Lazarus, it was clear to me," Mary ponders, "was dying. If he had
come back to life, it was merely to say a last farewell to it."
Shortlisted for this year's
Man Booker Prize, The Testament of Mary is worth reading,
but be prepared to be made vulnerable, and perhaps even angered, as
you digest this intimate picture of a woman mourning the loss of
her son.
That the son for whom she
grieves is Jesus is where the challenge lies; for this is not the
mother of our Lord whom we recognise from of old, but a harder,
more scarred human being, who faces us with her, and our,
humanity.
The Revd Sarah Hillman is Priest-in-Charge of Puddletown,
Tolpuddle, and Milborne with Dewlish, in Dorset.