Joan is the unwanted second daughter of Jacques D’Arc, who wagered that she would be his fourth son and lost. The context of Joan’s life is one of political turmoil in France, albeit somewhat removed from her provincial life in Domremy, where her father lets out land for people to feed their pigs on at an exorbitant price. This idea that just because one has a good weapon, it does not mean that violence is the only way to solve problems, runs through the novel and Joan often finds herself thinking of the seven year old boy who died throughout the next seven years of her own life. Joan rushes to his side to make sure he does not die alone and discovers that though she handed this boy the most choice of the missiles she’d collected, he hadn’t thrown a single one. During the play battle, a young boy named Guillaume is killed when he falls and hits his head. The book begins when Joan is ten, and collecting the best stones for her brother and his friends to lob at their rivals from a neighbouring Burgundian town. Given that the real Joan of Arc lived centuries and centuries ago, who is to say that any of what we think we know about the seventeen year old from Domremy is any more real than Chen’s warrior version? Historical accuracy aside, Joan is a fascinating literary character study – and a book which may well make its way onto many prize longlists in the months to come.

She acknowledges that her Joan is a departure from the history in her author’s note, but also makes a conscious effort throughout the novel to draw attention to the mythologising of this figure throughout history. Chen’s second novel, Joan, a feminist reimagining of Joan of Arc, is surprisingly absent of religious fervour.

Joan by katherine j chen