Jeet Thayil

Names of the Women

From the Booker-shortlisted author of Narcopolis, in prose of extraordinary power, a novel about the women whose roles were suppressed, reduced or erased in the Gospels. 'Dazzling, smouldering . . . It is literally a tale that's waited a thousand years to be told.' MARLON JAMES, WINNER OF THE 2015 MAN BOOKER PRIZE Names of the Women begins with Christ on the cross addressing Mary of Magdala, asking her to bear witness to his death. As the novel unfolds, it tells the stories of fifteen women whose lives overlapped with the life of Christ. Lydia and Assia, Martha and Mary of Bethany, Junia the Widow of Jerusalem, Susanna the Barren, Ariamma the Canaanite, and others whose names have been spoken only in passing or not at all. Women who stayed with Christ through the crucifixion, when his disciples had abandoned him, and who spread his radical message - one that made them equals and a profound threat to power within the church. Together, the voices of the women dare us to reimagine the story of the New Testament in a way it has never before been told. *A 'BOOKS OF 2021' PICK IN THE FINANCIAL TIMES AND NEW STATESMAN*

hat carter

This was a hypnotic read. 

I read it in a single sitting, enthralled, dizzy, desperate. Even now I've finished, it's living in my head. The prose is gorgeous - silky, gutteral, sensual, sacred. There were many things I loved about this book. Firstly, it gives time and space to the women in the Gospels who are often overlooked. Christianity has always had a habit of diminishing the contributions of women to the faith - and many of the women mentioned in the bible are conflated for little reason in a way that men are never treated (Mary Magdalen = the women with the demons = the adulterous woman = the woman washing perfuming Jesus = Mary sister of Martha) which serves to undermine the female presence in the bible. Thayil refuses to given in to this narrative and gives fifteen women names, words, voice and space, in a way that is real, sensitive, and authentic to biblical scholarship.

Another brilliant aspect of this book is how Thayil embraces the gross and the human. It is temptingly easy to imagine a sanitised gospel setting - one where the crowds are courteous, the woman respected, Jesus loved by all except the few selfish religious leaders. Thayil refuses to buy into this narrative. Her Jesus is travel-stained and worn. The crowds are riots and noisy and drunk and pushing. The stories overwhelming, the characters hungry, the disciples argumentative and lazy, and occasionally glory-seeking. In all, they are human, and experience the same emotions and biases and selfishness and joy that we do today. By recognising that there was no such thing as a homogenous response to Christ, Thayil indulges in a range of perspectives and interrogations on who Christ may have been to the women around him. Not all the women are saints - indeed, if the heart of the book lies in human relation and response then it is essential that the women are human too, even as she's giving them space to speak.

One particularly sensitive element is the way Thayil writes how the women reconciled the Christ before them with the Jewish God they had known. Christian ideas about God's nature have changed over the years, but there is a tendency always in Christian literature to cast God in light of how the present Christianity sees him. Not so here. Each character has her own opinion (From the Caananite women viewing God as an Iseralite god, to Mary thinking that the old God was one of bloodlust who seeks to remedy his behaviour through a compassionate Christ), which a reader may or may not disagree with - but there is a brilliance and tenderness in the way each character responds to who Jesus is and how (if) that changes anything. 

Some further thoughts: One of the strongest impressions from the book is that minorities in society, those who are disempowered and overlooked will love and know Christ and his teaching in a way that those in power and privilege cannot. Thayvil certainly notices from the biblical gospels how it is usually the women who first recognise profound significances of Christ's character, and who are there at the most important moments. From this she draws out emphases on Christ's connection with women, placing them at the centre of the story and giving them a compassion and understanding that the disciples do not have. This is powerful, and probably, to some extent, true. Jesus preached a radical message which centred on the poor. Men may be empathetic, but I do not think they can truly understand what it means to be truly disenfranchised in a way that women experience daily. Moreover, Jesus was going to his death. He knew he was going to die at the hands of the powerful and wealthy and religious - but the disciples couldn't believe this because they felt powerful. One of the most moving scenes in the book is Mary going to buy perfume for him because she sees in his eyes a sadness that the men refuse to notice. Those who suffer notice those who suffer. 

I think, also, that it was powerful and beautiful to have Christ as the only male perspective in the whole novel (but then, I do love a feminised Christ). The fifteen perspectives interspersed with Christ talking directly to the Marys, to us, about his pain, his fear, his anxieties was moving and heart-wrenching. How often I cried. 

As a final note, though I may come back to edit this review as my thoughts continue to think as I continue to carry this book around in my being. I so appreciated, and marvelled at the way Thayvil drew into her narrative realities of mental health, depression, illness, infertility, religious doubt, non binary beings. These are not new now, and were not new then - they have been with us since the dawn of humanity and it was wonderful to see the subjects touched on with such unflinching honesty and perspective. They were never the extent of the character's personality but part of them and their backstory which gave them depth, nuance, and motive. 

I found some parts difficult to read. Other chapters I struggled to agree with, some I cried at the beauty and at feeling seen. Whatever your religious perspective I think this an excellent book that deserves to be read and digested thoughtfully.

It felt like a loveletter to Jesus and I hope more than anything that it won't be shot down and criticised by readers who feel threatened by any bible depiction that questions the 21st century middleclass white Jesus.

(Due to how much this book has affected me I would easily give it 5 stars however, I enjoyed the first half more than the second - I think I found the characters compelling, and there were a few moments where the prose felt clunky or not quite as polished as the rest of the book)

Names of the Women

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