Journey to Portugal by José Saramago

Moncão is home and witness to the tale endlessly recounted to the children of a generation to which the traveller himself belonged, namely that of Deuladue Martins. She was a resourceful woman who, when the town was besieged and lacking basic supplies, sent the citizens to collect and cook the very last of the flour into little sweet-smelling balls which she then tossed over the ramparts with an air of grand munificence, thus-by disseminating a conviction as to the futility of continuing the siege-routing the troops of Henry II of Castile in their attempt to seize the fortress. This occurred in 1368, a period of considerable political machinations, and a time of easy belief in artificial tactics profoundly lacking in imagination. Nowadays times have changed, and Moncão is the petitioner, to judge from the little altar boy at the church's entrance wearing a pious and piteous expression the better to beg and receive alms from kind souls.

The traveller rather looks to recover his other sensibilities, but notes the heart-plucking imagery. He also notes the High Baroque angels either side of the high altar in the same church, and a gigantic Our Lord of the Way, theatrical and scary, in the parish church with its funeral monument to the memory of Senhora Deuladeu, an act of family veneration from a distant grandson.