Rarely have I heard laughter so smug as that which greeted this line: "He gathered around him, I said, a group of misfits, only children like himself, or men without fathers, or men who could not look a woman in the eye, men who were seen smiling to themselves." Nudge-nudge, wink-wink. Tóibín and his collaborators, are invited to snigger along with Mary at her son and his disciples, and snigger they do, over and over again. ![]() The members of the audience, whose unswerving secularity is comfortably taken for granted by Mr. ![]() But what about everybody else? Assuming that you don't have a horse in this particular race, how does "The Testament of Mary" come across when considered not as an antireligious statement but as a piece of pure drama? Perhaps not surprisingly, it proves to be predictable in the extreme.
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