The near-symbolism of this antique-style language is shockingly disrupted when the human body in agony bursts into the text.
Modern terms such as "consciousness" or "hysterical" jar but do not break the trance. Nouns stay simple, acting less as signs of reality than as almost abstract markers: "fruit" "bread" "trees" "cloak" "shoes". The flow of the narrative is emphasised by the repeated use of "and". Mary's oral testimony becomes as grave and stately as a psalm, resonant with the familiar rhythms of the scriptures. Her admission that she cannot read or write reminded me of the 14th-century mystic Margery Kempe, forced to dictate her God-sent revelations to a priestly scribe. We realise that she is recounting her story of the death of Jesus to "guardians" who seem more like jailers. The novel opens with Mary apparently talking to herself.
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