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Sometimes purposeful, sometimes footloose, the act of undertaking a pilgrimage is "both a preparation for death and a hedge against it." So writes Rosemary Mahoney, who knows well whereof she speaks. A reluctant churchgoer, and less interested in religion per se than in the faith that underlies it, she travels in this absorbing narrative to some of the worlds great pilgrimage sites: Irelands Croagh Patrick, Lourdes, Santiago de Compostela, Canterbury, the banks of the Ganges. "As I got into the rhythm of it," she writes, "I found that the more I walked, the more I wanted to walk." Walk she does, over hundreds of miles, observing and recording along the way, talking with ascetics and skeptics, joining the multitude whose physical beings wander in order that their minds might turn toward the divine. And to what end is all this hard slogging? "Dunno, really," one of Mahoneys fellow travelers shrugs. "When its done, you feel very good about it." Fans of travel narratives and religious memoirs alike will find much pleasure, and much on which to reflect, in Mahoneys pages.
--Gregory McNamee
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
From Publishers Weekly
Most pilgrims are on a very personal quest in which they hope to encounter God, whether it be at a roadside shrine or under the soaring arches of a medieval cathedral. In this reflection on her experiences in Christian and Hindu holy places, the critically acclaimed author of previous books on Lillian Hellman and Ireland is deeply skeptical, occasionally biting and sporadically hopeful about the possibility that a transcendent God might exist. As she encounters anti-Catholic protesters in Walsingham, England, or shares trail chat and blisters with an impressive multinational array of eccentric comrades on the way to Santiago de Compostela, Mahoney's objective is both to understand the nature of belief and to grapple with the remnants of her own Irish Catholic heritage. The bulk of this compelling and evocative memoir recounts time spent in places redolent with Christian history. Yet it is in the ancient Hindu sacred city of Varanasi, India, that Mahoney seems to drop her guard. In her wise and resigned teenage guide, Jaga, she finds a kindred spirit. "I wanted to hug him for his cleverness. His faith, I knew, was similar in nature to mine-faded, worn, resentful, and stubbornly evasive. And yet it was there." At book's end, Mahoney emerges from another pilgrimage incrementally more peaceful but with her singularity intact. Readers seeking small marvels, instead of life-changing miracles, will find this a provocative and illuminating armchair adventure.
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to the
Hardcover
edition.
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