But never mind that international context. The book opens with a haunting microcosm of the battles she will later wage: the children of her village, the Dauphin-supporting Domrémy, gathering to fight those from neighbouring village Maxey, which is loyal to the Duke of Burgundy – who has allied with England. It doesn’t help that Joan lacks any 15th-century feminine qualities: she is not beautiful, meek or obedient, but fearless, quick-witted and hot-tempered.Ĭhen lingers on Joan’s formative childhood. Before she was born, he bet that she would be a boy, and he has never forgiven her for that loss of money, and pride. Here Joan’s sadistic father, Jacques, beats, starves and terrorises his family – most especially Joan. Well, it worked for this lapsed Anglican reader, but mainly because Chen makes a compelling case for her hard-scrabble survivor which lifts this retelling beyond voguish virtue-signalling. Surely the mighty maiden is more relatable to the selfie generation if she has faith in Joan, not God? Arguably, that narrative choice isn’t so revolutionary given the current trend for you-go-girl reclamations of historical stories, likewise the decision to downplay a potentially alienating religious factor. Gone are the visions from saints and archangels this Joan doesn’t take orders from anyone. Now author Katherine J Chen, whose first novel riffed on Pride and Prejudice, becomes the latest to tackle that legendary figure, Joan of Arc – and hers is a fresh and utterly enthralling take.Ĭrucially, Chen’s protagonist is not a woman of faith, but a woman of action. Rubens depicted her as a devout and humble servant of the state, while Shakespeare reduced her to a sly devil-worshipper.

To George Bernard Shaw, she was a champion of individualism.

Joan by katherine j chen review