Joan of Arc in Rouen by Esther Lin

I will not triumph. Yet those like me do not depend on monuments.

Joan of Arc in Rouen

by Esther Lin¹

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I’d called a crusade against my enemy.
On the site of my ordeal, no sculpture
remembers me. Where my body flared like
a window, then smoldered like stone, ivy

flickers. Fine then, go to the cathedral.
It lies a quarter mile away. The glass
of your era shines of six furrow-faced
men who beset me. My halo shines as

the seventh. I will not triumph. Yet those
like me do not depend on monuments.
Orphaned, divorced, they approach, they lay

plastic cones of flowers. I bless them. Rest
your helms! Here walks one who is ready
to unclothe herself of her suffering.

1. Originally published as "Joan of Arc in Rouen" The New York Review of Books, June 26, 2025 issue. Copyright © 2025 Esther Lin. Reprinted with permission.