Girl X

About the Book

Joan of Arc went out from her dungeon the morning of May 24, 1431, expecting to be saved.  "Be brave, daughter of God,"  her saints had whispered all through her captivity,  "you'll be saved."

She believed them-- why not?  She always had.  "Go to the King,"  they'd said when she was chasing sheep over the hills of the Lorraine,  "go to Orléans, we'll be with you,"  and she had, and they were, and her faith in them was perfect, and simple.

Now she stood at the stake and wondered, for the first time (as Bob Dylan put it),  "Oh my God, am I here all alone??"  The sun turned black for her then, she panicked, and for the first time, recanted her words, her deeds-- everything.  

She wanted to live.  She was nineteen.

Six days later, she was back.  Faith in her heart again, but a different kind of faith.  In no way simple.  Nor was she the simple girl she'd been till then.  

She had grown up.  In one bad week.  

She still didn't want to die.  Especially, she didn't want to burn.  "The worst of all deaths!"  she called it.  But she most of all, she didn't want to die kicking and screaming.  She wanted to die as-- Joan of Arc.  And by the time they tied her to the stake and lit the flames, six days later, she'd learned how to do it.

This book tells that story.

About the Author

V. Shorr lives in Los Angeles.