By Kimberly Cutter
“Was she a saint or a witch? A visionary or a madwoman? Or a rare peasant lady who, at God’s bidding, led a military, stored France, and paid the cost through burning alive? . . . Kimberly Cutter’s portrait of ‘Jehanne’ as an odd, gritty teenage tomboy and precise believer is compelling.” —USA Today
It is the 15th century, and the tumultuous Hundred Years’ struggle rages on. France is below siege, English squaddies tear during the nation-state destroying all who pass their paths, and Charles VII, the uncrowned king, has neither the energy nor the desire to rally his military. And within the quiet of her mom and dad’ backyard in Domrémy, a peasant lady sees a spangle of sunshine and hears a strong voice communicate her identify: Jehanne.
The tale of Jehanne d’Arc, the visionary and saint who believed she have been selected via God, who led a military and stored her state, has captivated our imaginations for hundreds of years. however the tale of Jehanne—the lady whose sister was once murdered via the English, who sought an get away from a violent father and a pressured marriage, who taught herself to trip and to struggle, and who someway came across the braveness and tenacity to cajole first one, then , then millions to persist with her—is immediately exciting, unforeseen, and heartbreaking. wealthy with unstated love and battlefield valor, The Maid is a unique in regards to the strength and uncertainty of religion and the exhilarating and devastating effects of status.
“Impressive . . . Cutter inspires the novel’s medieval global with outstanding details.” —New York instances publication Review
“Joan of Arc, the teenage peasant woman who commanded a French military, was once burned on the stake, and at last declared a saint, exists in our collective mind's eye as extra fantasy than individual . . . Cutter strips away the romanticism in desire of a extra complicated portrayal that increases a few provocative questions.” —O Magazine
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Additional resources for The Maid: A Novel of Joan of Arc
Sample text
All of it necessary, part of His plan. Just as she, Jehanne, lying in the garden, is part of His plan, though she knows not how yet, or why. She knows simply that He has pulled back life's curtain for an instant and shown her His miraculous fire, lit her up with His miraculous fire. And she knows that she will do anything to feel that fire again. She did not tell anyone. She knew they would laugh, call her crazy, a fool, a liar. She kept it inside her, secret, burning like a small fierce sun. Waiting.
She crouched on one side of it and peered past the leaded corner of the frame. Her mother was standing in the sun, pulling on the frayed well rope hand over hand and talking to a boy named Michel Le Buin. The miller's son. A blond, pimpled boy with an angry red chin and slicks of oil on either side of his nose. He walked around with a proud, haughty look on his face, as if he were very handsome and very rich. This infuriated Jehanne. Made her long to slap him. "Such a long time since we've had a visit from you," her mother was saying.
A thrilling feeling, as if she were poised on a tight rope above a deep ravine, walking slowly forward. All she had to do was keep paying attention, keep putting one foot in front of the other, keep seeing herself arriving at the other side, her foot touching solid ground. Then she would make it. I've a gift for this, she thought. Her father and brothers were just ahead, herding the cows and sheep, and she could hear the panic in her brothers' voices as they spoke to the animals. Pierrelot's voice high and girlish, "Go, damn it!