Yann Martel - The High Mountains of Portugal

“These books brought back many happy memories — and some sadness that our children are all grown up — but they brought no religious illumination. I continued my search. Then the solution appeared right in front of me, with your favourite writer.”

“Really? How interesting. When I saw your nose in those Agatha Christies, I thought you were taking a break from your arduous studies.”

He and she are devoted to Agatha Christie. They have read all her books, starting with the very first, The Mysterious Affair at Styles . Thanks to the good works of the Círculo Português de Mistério, they receive her every new murder mystery the moment it is translated, and translation is prompt because Portuguese readers are eager. Husband and wife know better than to bother the other when one of them is absorbed in the latest arrival. Once they’ve both finished it, they go over the case together, discussing the clues they should have caught, and the avenues to the solution they ran down only to find they were dead ends. Agatha Christie’s star detective is Hercule Poirot, a vain, odd-looking little Belgian man. But Poirot, inside his egg-shaped head, has the quickest, most observant mind. His “grey cells”—as he calls his brain — work with order and method, and these cells perceive what no one else does.

“ Death on the Nile was such a marvel of ingenuity! Her next book must be due soon,” he says.

“It must.”

“And what solution did you find in Agatha Christie?”

“Let me first explain the path I have taken,” she replies. “This path twists and turns, so you must listen carefully. Let us start with the miracles of Jesus.”

The miracles of Jesus. One of her favourite topics. He glances at the clock next to his microscope. The night is going to be long.

“Is something the matter with your microscope?” his wife asks.

“Not at all.”

“Peering through it won’t help you understand the miracles of Jesus.”

“That is true.”

“And staring at the clock won’t save you from your future.”

“True again. Are you thirsty? Can I offer you water before we start?”

“Water from that glass?” She peers critically at the filthy glass on his desk.

“I propose to clean it.”

“That would be a good idea. I’m fine for the moment, though. But how appropriate that you should mention water — we shall come back to water. Now, pay attention. The miracles of Jesus — so many of them, are there not? And yet, if we look closely, we can see that they fall into two categories. Into one category fall those miracles that benefit the human body . There are many of these. Jesus makes the blind see, the deaf hear, the dumb speak, the lame walk. He cures fevers, treats epilepsy, exorcizes psychological maladies. He rids lepers of their disease. A woman suffering from haemorrhages for twelve years touches his cloak and her bleeding stops. And of course he raises the dead — Jairus’s daughter and the widow of Nain’s only son, both freshly dead, but also Lazarus, who has been dead for four days and whose body stinks of death. We might call these the medical miracles of Jesus, and they represent the overwhelming majority of his miraculous work.”

Eusebio remembers the autopsy he performed earlier today, speaking of bodies that stink of death. The mushy, puffy body of a floater is an abhorrence to the eyes and to the nose, even when these are trained.

“But there are other miracles that benefit the human body besides the medical miracles,” his wife continues. “Jesus makes the nets of fishermen bulge with catch. He multiplies fish and loaves of bread to feed thousands. At Cana he turns water into wine. In alleviating hunger and quenching thirst, Jesus again benefits the human body. So too when he stills a storm that is swamping the boat his disciples are travelling in and rescues them from drowning. And the same when he gets Peter to pay the temple tax with the coin from the fish’s mouth; in doing that, he saves Peter from the beating he would have endured had he been arrested.”

Maria has benefitted his body, Eusebio muses, as he has hers. To love and then to have a fun time of it — is there any greater joy? They were like birds in springtime. Their carnal relations settled over the years, but the satisfaction has remained — the comfort of a sturdy, warm nest. Renewed love for Maria flames within him. When they met, she never told him that her name was Legion, that teeming within her were all the prophets and apostles of the Bible, besides a good number of the Church Fathers. When she was giving birth to their children — with each one the ordeal began with something like a plate breaking inside her, she said — even then, as he sat in the waiting room listening to her panting and groaning and shrieking, she discoursed on religion. The doctor and the nurses came out with thoughtful expressions. He had to remind them to tell him about the new baby. Even as she suffered and they worked, she caused them to think. How did he end up with a wife who was both beautiful and profound? Did he deserve such luck? He smiles and winks at his wife.

“Eusebio, stop it. Time is short,” she whispers. “Now, why does Jesus benefit the human body? Of course he does his miracle work to impress those around him — and they are impressed. They’re amazed. But to show that he is the Messiah, why does Jesus cure infirmities and feed hungry stomachs? After all, he could also soar like a bird, as the devil asked him to do, or, as he himself mentioned, he could go about casting mountains into seas. These too would be miracles worthy of a Messiah. Why body miracles?”

Eusebio remains hushed. He’s tired. Worse, he’s hungry. He remembers the bag at his wife’s feet. Perhaps he should wash the glass in the small sink in his office and, when returning to his desk, try to glimpse inside the bag. She usually brings him something to eat when she visits.

His wife answers her question. “Jesus performs these miracles because they bring relief where we want it most. We all suffer in our bodies and die. It is our fate — as you well know, my dear, spending your days cutting up human carrion. In curing and feeding us, Jesus meets us at our weakest. He eases us of our heavy burden of mortality. And that impresses us more deeply than any other display of mighty power, be it flying in the air or throwing mountains into seas.

“Now to the second category of the miracles of Jesus, the category of the miracle of interpretation. This category contains only a single miracle. Do you know what that miracle is?”

“Tell me,” Eusebio says softly.

“It is when Jesus walks on the water. There is no other miracle like it. Jesus tells his disciples to get into the boat and travel on ahead. They set out, while Jesus goes onto the mountain to pray. The day ends. The disciples strain at their oars against a strong wind — but there is no storm; their bodies are not in any danger. After a long night of toil, as the new day is starting, they see Jesus coming towards their boat, walking on the sea. They are terrified. Jesus reassures them: ‘It is I; do not be afraid.’ Matthew, in his version of the story, has Peter ask the Lord if he can join him. ‘Come,’ says Jesus. Peter gets out of the boat and walks on the water towards Jesus, but then the wind frightens him and he begins to sink. Jesus reaches out with his hand and brings Peter back to the boat. The adverse wind ceases.

“Why would Jesus walk on water? Did he do it to save a drowning soul, to benefit a human body? No — Peter got into trouble in the water after Jesus began walking on it. Was there some other impetus? Jesus started his miraculous walk very early in the morning from remote shores, alone, and at sea he was seen by no one but his disciples, who were out of sight of land. In other words, there was no social necessity to the miracle. Walking on water did no one any particular good, raised no specific hopes. It was neither asked for, nor expected, nor even needed. Why such an anomalous miracle in documents as spare and winnowed as the Gospels? And this unique miracle can’t be hidden away. It appears in two of the synoptic Gospels — Matthew and Mark— and in John, one of the very few crossover miracles. What does it mean, Eusebio, what does it mean? In a moment of clarity, I saw.”