In the comments Bin Gregory points out this post by Faramir:
This really is a great example of what I am speaking of in my last post. We are being told about an illiterate old woman’s experience with the Quran.
Then she would return to the prayer-mat, lifting the Qur’an above her head, saying as though: O Book! You are above my understanding. My head is nothing more than a place whereupon you rest.
Having sat down not occupying the entire prayer-mat but a part of it, for to occupy the whole of the prayer-mat but a part of it, for to occupy the whole of the prayer-mat was to her an act of arrogance, she would open the book knowing only to keep the right side up, and to begin where she had left the previous day.
For a long time she would allow her eyes to rest on the two open pages before her. The letters in green ink from right to left, row beneath row, each shape mysteriously captivating, each dot below or above a letter an epitome of the entire scripture, each assembly of letters a group of dervishes raising their heads in zikr, each gap between two enigmatic shapes a leap from this world to the next, and each ending the advent of the Day of Resurrection.
She would thus see a thousand images in the procession of that script and would move from vision to vision.
