BOOK REVIEW : Daughter of Jerusalem by Sara Maitland

Written by Sara Maitland and set around the time it was first published (1978), the book is divided into nine ‘months’ and tells the story of Liz and Ian as they struggle to conceive a child; with some passages containing quite graphic detail. 

Each chapter concludes with an imagined account of a biblical story, with no apparent separation in the way the text is set out - no double spacing or page marking - each month of the story of Liz and Ian is meant to be read as one with the parallel narrative, the content of which seems to relate to an event or theme earlier in the chapter. Each of the ‘biblical’ stories has a female character as its principal focus.

This is the first novel I have read by Sarah Maitland, who is a noted writer of what is described by some as “religious fantasy” although this novel seems more “religious reality” to me. Maitland is also known as a feminist author. Daughter of Jerusalem was her first novel. 

I was introduced to the book by Martin Warner, Bishop of Chichester, when he kindly gave a lecture at St Augustine’s College one Friday evening before the summer holiday. The subject of his lecture was Mary, the Mother of God. 
As a result, I assumed from the outset that Liz was a modern day ‘Mary’ and her husband Ian was ‘Joseph’ - but half way through the first chapter I wondered if Liz was a modern day ‘Elizabeth’ - Mary’s cousin. As it happens, Chapter One ends with a description of Mary and a reflection on her assent at the annunciation. “Assent becomes the moment of conception” (p28). It is then we realise that the nine chapters (numbered but also named as consecutive months) follow Mary’s pregnancy and end in the month of December. But it is hard to make direct comparisons between Liz and Mary (none of us are carbon copies people from the Bible - so why expect fictional characters be so?!)

The novel is not a mirror reflecting biblical lives into the present, but rather a glimpse through a jewel - through which can be seen different facets of the lives of all its characters (both present day and biblical) some facets seeming more recognizable to our own lives than others. 

What Liz - and the women we meet - do seem to reflect accurately however is the tensions that exists between different facets of the complex lives they lead. Through the imagined biblical narratives we are led to understand that this is no different to their forebears in the scriptures. The various images of Mary (and other female biblical figures) we encounter today are not as diametrically opposed as we might at first consider; but part of one, whole, person. 

In the novel this tension is manifest throughout; the pressure put on Liz by the women’s group to which she belongs to attend a pro-abortion rally - even though they all know she is struggling to conceive; the reluctance of the group to reveal to her the fact that one of their number is pregnant. Liz’s work as a literary agent involves promoting a book about motherhood. The nature of her relationship with her boss is set against her marriage to her husband. Her relationship with the doctor overseeing her treatment is the source of tension that runs throughout the whole book.

The other characters Liz meets further illustrate the tensions embodied in the day-to-day lives of women all over the world. In an extended conversation with Nancy, Liz’s sister, we hear of the abuse she suffers from her well-off husband and the unfairness of the double burden of having a job and being the principal childcarer and homemaker (p166).

Biblical imagery is not restricted to the end of each chapter; threads emerge throughout.

After a graphic account of Liz’s physical and mental battle as a result of her continuing menstruation; she starts to reflect on the possibility that for many women around the world this would be a sign of relief; freedom from the conveyor-belt of motherhood for another month.  Liz explains she is unable to repent for such thoughts because as a feminist “her hair was too short to wipe feet with” (p40). There are frequent references to Liz being in the desert (p116)

Chapter 6 (September) details a particularly dramatic point in the story of Liz and Ian and contains many biblical references. Here Liz blames herself for their inability to conceive and reflects on her suffering by talking about the “curse of Eve” - highlighting her separation from the perfect image of womanhood (symbolized by Mary). While she enjoyed going on the pro-abortion march she feels guilty about doing so and goes on to make further references to being in the wilderness; and that John the Baptist knew how much there was to repent for as he had seen the darkness of a barren womb (p163).

Liz’s trip to the maternity ward to visit her friend Alice, towards the end of the book, draws parallels between the ward and the Temple; with the delivery room the inner sanctum where only the privileged midwives are allowed to enter. She notices the unusual - otherworldly - smells and sights. The book concludes in December and the end of Liz and Ian’s story where Mary’s immaculate conception is described as the moment she has torn the veil between flesh and soul. No longer separated, the flesh and soul now one whole person in Mary; the model of wholeness for us all. 

Perhaps a result of these threads, other passages, where the references are not so direct, seem to have been soaked in scripture. For instance, while Liz is debating whether to join the pro-abortion rally, one of her friends offers her the following advice; “don’t privatise, analyse, politicise, collectivise, civilize” (p51). I wondered if that could be a summary of the Magnificat, which is sung by Mary to Elizabeth in the biblical vignette at the end of that chapter.

This was a fascinating novel to read - and not the sort of book I would have found without a recommendation - I very much recommend it to you. Some of the more descriptive passages certainly opened my eyes to reality of the biology of attempting to conceive a child. Perhaps more interesting than that was the way in which Sarah Maitland has woven biblical imagery so well into the story, that even when it is not obvious it still seems to stand out. A method of engaging with scripture that is not restricted to the characters in the novel; but may be useful for us as well. 

I read the edition of Daughter of Jerusalem by Sara Maitland (first released in 1978) published by Virago Press published in 1993. I am grateful to The Right Reverend Dr Martin Warner, Bishop of Chichester for introducing me to the book during a lecture he gave at St Augustine’s College of Theology.