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There are traces of reality in all four examples of historical fiction discussed above. Defining elements of the story of Joan of Arc are discernible in each of the tales: her voices and divinity, the cross gender dressing, soldiering, capture and trial, and burning at the stake. But are these traces of reality sufficient to create a true understanding of the character of Joan? Boutet de Monvel’s Joan is especially angelic (note his drawings of her in ‘feminised’ male clothing with wing like train at the back (p.29)). She is the greater good in comparison to royalty, her actions are not interrogated by the discourse and she boldly condemns her judges in the final stages: ‘… “take good heed what you do, for truly I am sent by God, and you put yourselves in great peril”’ (p.53). She was the right sort of Joan for the period, absolute and courageous in her beliefs and patriotism. Fadiman’s Joan was good and beautiful, ‘she was not full of pride. She was, instead, full of the truth’ (p.58). Joan in this tale takes on a mothering quality, She [Joan] thought of the Dauphin as a little doll she could put in her pocket and take out, secretly at night, and mother. (Fadiman, p.77) Moreover, Fadiman’s Joan is shown as partially transformed into male guise from the outset, all depictions of her in this book are with short hair. You may also notice that in every drawing of her subsequent to the first visitation, she is outlined in white. The message being conveyed here was that it was not her marvellous victories that made her celestial; it was her innate divinity. Michael Morpurgo’s Joan is never quite alone, being accompanied from the earliest days by a little white sparrow, Belami. His Joan is gentle but self-assured and courageous. She is cushioned by a loving family and unlike Boutet de Monvel’s Joan who threatens her judges with eternal damnation in the final moments; Morpurgo’s Joan accepts her fate gracefully.
“I know,” Joan replied. “Let it come swiftly…” (Morpurgo, p.113) Of all the accounts then, it would seem as though Nancy Garden’s remote Joan of Arc would most faithfully retell the story of Joan. And yet despite the clever placement of the reader in the hands of Gabrielle to emphasise the unknowability of the heroine, the novel speaks volumes of the age in which it has been written. Gabrielle is a healer and accompanies Joan’s campaigns, also in male dress – in the guise of a squire. Remarkably, when Gabrielle is found out by the doctor to whom she is apprenticed she is accepted affectionately as though she were his own daughter. Moreover, later in the novel when Gabrielle is in the company of Christine de Pizan what feels like a very 20th century discussion takes place where Christine tells Gabrielle ‘that women can do nearly all things as well as men if they wish it and the need is there’ (p.260). Whilst such feminist dialogue was indeed occurring at this time 4, Garden has generalised it across society by making numerous other references to the capabilities and equality of females to males. Feminist sentiments were still in the minority during the middle ages and certainly the church perceived them as an abomination. Garden’s anachronistic generalised historical context changes our perception of Joan of Arc. It makes her appear more easily assimilable into the consciousness of the people, than was indeed the case, a misleading assumption to profess. The perception of reality in historical fiction is most certainly fraught with complexity. The reader understands that the ‘fictional’ tag probably means that certain events or people are ‘made up’; however, they are also working from the assumption that there is a core narrative – those traces of the original – that provides the text with an intrinsic reality. We are of course unlikely to find a homogenous portrayal of Joan of Arc and whilst I agree with Zagorin that History is more than mimesis, it is also for understanding; I think ultimately that the ambiguous realities of historical fiction do challenge the truth value of the text, making the perception of reality in this genre a difficult task indeed.
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