In literary, stage, and film criticism, there is a concept called "paratext" which refers to what happens around a piece of art that should effect the audience's experience of the art. In this case, the paratext is perhaps more intriguing than the actual book, which is saying a lot, because nothing is more academically fascinating than a writer who thinks they've found a new way of explaining the human experience—what could be more pertinent to the humanities?
But the paratext shows that this is not just some interesting thought experiment. The reader must imagine the life of Marguerite Porete herself, a real mystic, but also a Christian. This means that she resists the traditional strictures of the church, but she also believes that God is with her, guiding her experience of daily life. So she writes this book, sharing the heart of what God has revealed to her through personal revelation. The core message of it is something like this: "I've figured out how to be one with God; you can't think your way into it. God will perfect you to oneness with God through the systemic purging of your soul."
Then, the Catholic church gets a hold of the book, which got very popular for a moment. They found Marguerite and made her stand trial for heresy. They murdered her in the name of Jesus Christ and sentenced her to hell by excommunicating her soul from the body of the church. That paratext is fascinating because it helps to reframe the goal of Christian mysticism. They are the rebellious free-thinkers, and it is hard to ignore the similarity of the paratext to the gospel story of Jesus's own murder.
One must wonder if Porete believed about her own death that the universe was perhaps rewarding her with a death like Jesus's. This would be a hard comparison to miss, especially given the extensive meditations and prayers of Marguerite and her diligent study of Christian thought. She is not just a religious martyr. She is a martyr for freedom of thought.
