The first autobiographical text written by a woman that I know of is the account of the last days of the life of the Carthaginian martyr Perpetua. The text is a favourite of historians and theologians but until recently had not yet been studied with the help of contemporary literary tools. However, inspired by Dorrit Cohn's reflections on the distinction between fiction and (auto)biography on the one hand, and by her analysis of “transparent minds” (1978) on the other, I will contend that it is in its literariness – its narrative structure, its fantasy character, its metaphorical insistence on unavowable themes – that the proto-feminist radicality of the text can be assessed. The most characteristic narrative strategy of literary fiction, not only in the period of realist writing, but also in other periods is the “transparent mind”: the account of visions that no one else can see. This article is meant to make the case for such an assessment. Although it lurks in the background, and doubtlessly informs this volume, I willfully pass over the fact that today, martyrdom has resurfaced as a contested concept. What for some is a brave act of braving common opinion, is for others a dreadful violence act of terrorism.

Scenes of martyrdom are etched on our retina, because there are so many artworks that represent them. The case I analyse here, however, is literary, although some of its metaphors and descriptions are vividly visual.