“Holy Woman” (1958)

G.K. Chesterton once wrote:

“It is the partisans of divorce, not the defenders of marriage, who attach a stiff and senseless sanctity to a mere ceremony, apart from the meaning of the ceremony.”

These words from The Superstition of Divorce (1920) shed light on an interpretive crux in Lafferty’s "Holy Woman," one that hinges on the difference between the outward form of a commitment and its sacredness, and how both relate to human will. The distinction matters because it shapes how readers interpret one of Lafferty’s trickiest Sour John stories, the first he wrote.

In "Holy Woman," Sour John recounts how he was briefly kidnapped in the free port of Jebel Shah by Jack McCabe, a “charming” but shiftless bum. Jack’s devoted wife, Martha, was raised in an orphanage and later won by Jack in a card game. She stands by her difficult marriage despite Jack's failures, lack of character, and harebrained schemes. When Jack one day mistakes Sour John for a millionaire, he abducts and tries to ransom him. Martha loyally goes along with the plan; she doesn’t want Jack to look like a fool. The story has a cute ending, and Sour John deems Martha a “holy woman” who suffers her fool of a husband but never abandons him.

In his invaluable blog Continued on Next Rock, Andrew Ferguson writes:

“Framed within Sour John’s narration is the story of a desperate woman surviving by whatever means are at her disposal. Given the Arabian Nights setting (and with it the narrative occasion of the original Scheherazade), a euphemistic reading of ‘gin rummy’ seems encouraged by the text, though not explicit within it. Whether or not she is forced to prostitute herself, though, the virtue of this holy woman is such that she is never debased by her surroundings, never brought down to the level of any of the rogues around her.”

This reading initially appeals because it acknowledges the harsh realities Martha faces, grounding Lafferty’s story in human vulnerability and social critique. But it breaks down under scrutiny. If Martha’s survival depends on prostitution, she is debased, and the story’s internal logic collapses. Lafferty explicitly frames her as a holy woman, not a tragic figure. The Laffertian logic of "Holy Woman"—from the Little Sisters’ role in shaping Martha’s character to Martha's unyielding belief in sacramental marriage—undercuts the euphemistic reading and, I think, makes it unsupportable.

If Martha sells herself, even under duress, she has been brought down by her circumstances. This collapses the very idea of grace in Jebel Shah.

Lafferty’s story leaves no room for ambiguity. Either Martha is debased, or she is saved by something improbable, absurd, and ultimately graceful. It cannot be both.

This raises the central interpretive issue: Is gin rummy a veiled euphemism for sex? I’m going to make the case that it isn’t; this is a moment when we should read Lafferty literally.

Dante’s distinction between conditioned and unconditioned vows clarifies Martha’s virtue. In Paradiso (Canto V), Dante argues that breaking an unconditioned vow—one freely made, without coercion—is a real spiritual failure. A conditioned vow, made under duress, carries less moral culpability due to compromised free will. Medieval scholasticism 101.

Had Martha entered marriage under coercion, her endurance might be merely necessity, leaving her holiness intact, as Augustine argued regarding Lucretia:

“We maintain that when a woman is violated while her soul admits no consent to the iniquity, but remains inviolably chaste, the sin is not hers, but his who violates her.”— Augustine, City of God, Book I, Chapter 19

But nothing in the story suggests Martha was forced into marriage. We are told:

“This odd little man married her honorably.”

The unconditioned vow binds her absolutely. Her sanctity, then, is not a product of mere endurance. She chooses to uphold the marriage as a sacred obligation, not as a fate imposed upon her.

Sacramental marriage anchors the story’s moral structure, just beneath the hijinks of Jack and Sour John. The Catholic Church defines sacramental marriage as a lifelong, exclusive, and indissoluble covenant between one man and one woman, instituted by God and elevated by Christ to a sacrament. It is a sacred bond reflecting Christ’s love for the Church, rooted in fidelity, permanence, and openness to life.

A valid sacramental marriage requires free and full consent; this is a crucial distinction in Martha’s case. Had she been coerced, her marriage would be merely circumstantial. But her unconditioned vow, freely made, deepens the moral weight of her faithfulness.

A more coherent reading, then, is that gin rummy is precisely the means by which Martha avoids debasement. Her skill at cards is not a euphemism but the literal means through which she upholds her virtue.

This interpretation preserves both the sanctity of her sacramental commitments and the spiritual integrity of the story’s inner logic. It carries forward the grace she received from the Little Sisters in childhood into the grace she sustains within her difficult marriage. Lafferty’s humor and paradox often reveal deeper truths, and here, the absurdity of Martha’s situation is not a veiled tragedy but a testament to improbable grace.

One of the story’s recurring devices is Jack gambling Martha away at poker, only for her to reclaim herself through gin rummy. Martha, as it turns out, is the best gin rummy player in Jebel Shah. In one pivotal scene, when a “purple-faced plutocrat” wins her, the text reads:

“He wanted to possess her at once, but fortunately she kept her presence of mind. ‘As long as the cards are out, we might just go one hand of gin rummy,’ she said.”

The story loses too much if this is a sexual transaction, though such a reading might deepen it as a social critique. The problem is that this would not be the kind of social critique Lafferty was making. The story is set in a world of vice, and in such a real-world scenario, a woman in Martha’s position might have no real recourse other than trading her body for freedom. The plutocrat’s intent is clear; he wants to possess Martha. In a more cynical reading, the card game becomes a sly way of describing what actually happens.

But this reading fails on multiple levels because Jebel Shah is not the real world. It is a Sour John story.

Lafferty resolves a dire situation with an improbable solution. Just as Jack’s kidnapping scheme collapses into a laughable thirteen-dollar ransom, Martha’s card-playing gambit fits with tall-tale logic. If the gin rummy games were a euphemism, the entire story would shift in tone from comedy to something grimly ironic.

Martha wins these games, and the story draws attention to her skill rather than implying any underlying compromise. The humor hinges on the absurdity of a woman in her situation repeatedly outplaying men who cannot resist another bet. At one point, Jack even complains that she quits mid-hot streak:

“Billah, she quit in the middle of a hot streak!”

So, let’s make a case for the other side. One could argue that this is the comedy of a truncated sexual encounter or that Holy in the title really means Holey; but to do so would be a tonal violation. If Martha’s survival depended on anything other than her wits and loyalty, the title of the story would be a cruel irony.

One's critical assessment of all this will profoundly shape how one interprets the story's closing phrase:

Sha‘ Allah.

It is a variation of In shā’ Allāh (إن شاء الله), the Arabic phrase meaning “If God wills” or “God willing.” 

It conveys trust in divine providence—a belief that all events unfold according to God’s sovereign and permissive will, even games of gin rummy.

Current notes:

Holy Woman.pdf

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