[3.5?] Early July 2016: What if, into the current chaos of the Labour Party, appeared a preternaturally confident teenager without previous political involvement, hogging publicity and insisting they could unify the party, despite being academically unremarkable, and in social class not fitting too well with either the diminishing core working-class vote, or the parliamentary party? And somehow, because everything's such a ridiculous mess that could barely get any worse, and some people are desperate to try anything, this teen gets appointed to manage a campaign for a by-election that was never terribly likely to be won - and under their direction, it is won ... and support starts to grow?
When writing this book, Helen Castor didn't have such a handy contemporary analogy available to communicate the utter weirdness and unlikelihood of Joan's ascendancy to an audience who takes her for granted as a famous historical figure, but that's the kind of context she sets out by spending the first third not on Joan, but on the pandemonium of early-fifteenth-century French politics and war into which she walked.
The above imaginary left-wing 2010s William Hague would be extremely unlikely to gain such traction due to their young age, and would be told to go off and finish their GCSEs whilst doing a bit of youth party work and helping out with leafleting - but being female in the fifteenth century, Joan was even less likely to be taken seriously as a military leader.
A more accurate title for Helen Castor's book would be Joan of Arc in Political Context - which, okay, sounds like an undergrad honours module, but does give a fairer idea of the content, as the casual reader expects something different from a short book on Joan (and it is short - about half the length is references). I for one appreciated a refresher on the destructive machinations between Burgundy, Armagnac and the English in early fifteenth century France. But all these dukes and plots and battles are of less interest to many, and there was so much potentially interesting material missing. The introduction promises that information about Joan herself and her social environment will be forthcoming towards the end, in witness statements at posthumous hearings - but that turned out to be false hope: what's here is scanty.
However, if I'd ever heard much before about the formidable Yolande of Aragon, mother-in-law of the eventual Charles VII, I'd forgotten: one of those medieval royal women whose Francis Urquhart-like influence behind the scenes decided at least as much as any showy battle. The way Castor's book reads, it's as if Yolande was the grandmaster who, over decades, moved the players into place so the Hundred Years' War could be ended.
Castor also includes some highly pertinent information about similar visionary and prophetic figures who had appeared in France in the years before Joan, making pronouncements related to the war. (Some others who were current during Joan's short fame are also mentioned.)
The following read like the key to why Joan was given her chance to be heard at court, when so many like her were not. Her message was the right one, at the right time, with Charles' court on the retreat - but she also fit a pattern already familiar to Yolande:
During that time, holy voices had been raised across Europe to demand an end to the Church’s agony – and Yolande had learned at first hand that these spiritual leaders might be female as well as male. In the 1390s, for example, her mother-in-law, Marie of Brittany – another strikingly formidable dowager duchess of Anjou – had known a peasant woman named Marie Robine, who had begun to receive messages from God...
on 22 February 1398, that Marie Robine first heard a voice from heaven, telling her that she must direct the king to reform the Church and end the schism...
By April, Duchess Marie was taking so close an interest in this divine instruction that she was present in St Michael’s cemetery when Marie Robine had another vision...
Memories of her were still fresh when Yolande arrived in Provence in the following year, and when the young duchess travelled north to the valley of the Loire, she herself encountered another female visionary. Jeanne-Marie de Maillé was a woman of noble birth who, after her husband’s death in 1362, had embraced a life of poverty and prayer as a recluse under the protection of a convent in Tours...
Her connections with the Angevin dynasty were so close that she stood godmother to one of Duchess Marie’s sons, Yolande’s brother-in-law, and she was twice granted an audience with the king, first when Charles VI visited Tours in 1395, and again when she travelled to Paris in 1398...
Jeanne-Marie spent time too with Queen Isabeau, whom [Jeanne-Marie] reprimanded for living in luxury while the people suffered and starved. When Yolande met her, she was already in her seventies, but the two women spent enough time together that when Jeanne-Marie died in 1414, Yolande was a witness at the canonisation hearing.
It was good to see descriptions of Joan's battle tactics, which were actually pretty repetitive (but new to the conflict by aggressively taking the battle to the enemy, when the Armagnacs had been too weary and disillusioned to do that for a long while). When a GR friend read a book about the Hundred Years' War a couple of months ago, I wondered if Joan might have been a natural tactical genius, in the same way as kids who are brilliant at chess. Based on Castor's book, that wasn't the case, but she did seem to share some stereotypical traits with that type: her adamancy that she was right, her independent but repetitive thinking, her disregard of gender norms... (and it's too easy to see this everywhere these days) it all sounds a bit asperger's. Not a concept of Joan I'd ever previously considered.
That was all interesting, but plenty else was lacking in the book. I think a decent single-volume study of Joan needs also to include the following:
- What is known about daily life in villages like Domrémy and for families like Joan's, with a particular emphasis on how prolonged war affected them (e.g. crop damage, looting, sons going to fight). What were their interests in ending the war (duh) and what, if anything, might sway them to one side or another.
- More material about young women in medieval France/ western Europe and social attitudes held by and about them
- Perhaps more about religion: I felt the book did a decent job of communicating how suffused medieval society was with religion, and how everything in life was seen through its lens - but some reviews on here suggest that could have been communicated better to general readers.
- And then there's THE issue that meant I wouldn't round the rating up to 4 stars - because it's a central part of interpreting Joan, because it relates to a significant social issue today, and because I expect a historian of Castor's generation to do better than this lazy lack of interdisciplinary enquiry. That sort of department-bound thinking should have waned with the retirement of those now in their seventies. I should not have had to explain this to other people who've read the book; the book should have done it for me, and to be honest I'm cross that Joan is being taught without this.
The voices.
There is plenty of comparative psychology out there showing how thought processes, presentations, and interpretations of experience differ between cultures - it's not just norms, people's thinking and processing can itself be different. It's possible that what a person now might experience as a memory, or their own thoughts, or a sense of received opinion built up over the years, could have come into the mind of a medieval person as the voice of a supernatural being.
It's known that hearing voices is a common experience which doesn't necessarily mean there is any mental illness present. see: Hearing Voices Network; the work of Richard Bentall. (The UK is ahead of the curve on this issue, and there has been plenty about it in the Guardian Society over the years - I knew of it before I ever thought to study psychology - so even less excuse for Castor's failure to include this.)
There's a lot of material around which can be very interestingly applied to Joan - and which could also have the added contemporary benefit of destigmatisation work with readers of the book. It doesn't require any definitive verdict about Joan - though her organised behaviour does not tally well with early schizophrenia - this is simply presenting contemporary knowlege relevant to one of the most controversial aspects of her as a historical figure.
I may have been spoiled for all other history books by reading Ronald Hutton's Pagan Britain immediately prior to this one. Hutton may not be the most telegenic of historians, but on paper his fairness, humanity and attention to detail is IMO unmatched. At least as much of its topic, Pagan Britain is a history of interpretations and the reasons behind them, and Castor's book felt so meagre by comparison: it presented a straight narrative without elucidating within the text why this version was chosen, without looking at different possible opinions on anything. (I simply wasn't enthused enough to go burrowing in the un-numbered references.) Yes, the books are for different audiences, but the old-school political-history content and serviceable writing style in Joan of Arc simply don't provide the excitement that should in a C21st popular history book that doesn't bother presenting different views on the story.
On the other side from my historiographical doubts, Joan of Arc was also emotionally harrowing. I read most of it fairly quickly, but coming up to her capture, I could hardly bring myself to pick up the book, and despite having said to myself I'd finish it in three days or fewer, took a day and a half longer because I was doing almost anything else apart from read those bits. (I also once played her, as scripted by Bernard Shaw, which made this feel more intensely close than the average history.) It was the cross-examinations that were most horrible and wearing to read. I had long read between the lines of other versions that Joan would have been sexually assaulted, but Castor puts the details in the open (along with how normal this behaviour was considered by her captors) - and it was curious the extent to which her male clothing appeared to have protected her, that she seemed to have become 'fair game' simply by putting on a dress, even though the men always knew she was female. (Something else that a better look at the social history may have explained.)
From the first, the book was also a reminder of how bloody chaotic medieval European history actually was - cities changing hands, the level of instability and unpredictability of life. Of course... this is why I was never that drawn to medieval political history (some of the social history the Black Death really interests me though). It's just too much, whereas early modern had a rhythm that suited me, and by the eigteenth and nineteenth century - as with the Greeks and Romans - things had got too boring without being interestingly modern enough.
This is not a bad book; its presentation of a complex episode of political history is clear and methodical, and would be ideal for A-level students or first year undergrads getting their heads round the chain of events - but there is too much missing here for it to be anything like the current popular work on Joan. It adds something to the field by its reconnecting her with the political and military environment in which she spent her fleeting career, but not unlike Castor's TV documentary presenting stint I saw not long before reading the book, which she had the luck and misfortune to co-host with Lucy Worsley (and in that situation, who isn't going to come off as the one with less spark?) it was fine and competent, but not enthralling when one can see how it may be done better.