Conversations (Joan to Catherine of Alexandria)

by Student Driver

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1.
02:30
2.
03:14
3.
03:24

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In which young Joan of Arc is a clingy, death-obsessed teenager recklessly in love with the ghost of St. Catherine of Alexandria.

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released July 27, 2015

cover image from Giotto's Seven Virtues frescoes (Charity) (see: publicdomainreview.org/collections/paintings-in-proust-vol-1-swanns-way/)

Epigraphs taken from W.P. Barrett's translation of Joan's trial (see: legacy.fordham.edu/halsall/basis/joanofarc-trial.asp)

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Student Driver New Orleans, Louisiana

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Track Name: 1427
For once in my life, spend night here with me out along my father’s trees. Girls like you, you always leave

and come backlit in daylight. I can’t see you right, and I want to see whatever it is that you might be.

I know your body’s not a body.
Your body’s not a body.
Is your body even anything, or is it just what my mind sees?

[And does it die when you leave me?
Because when you leave me, I die.]

You check your phone constantly. Who could it be? If there’s someone you’d rather see, why are you wasting time with me?

You press my hand to the screen. It’s cold and clean. Is this what you want me to be, a pristine, auto-message machine?

[I will leave myself behind, if you think it’s right.
I will set my skin aside, hide it in the firelight.]

Because our bodies are not bodies.
Our bodies are not bodies.
Our bodies are just what they see.




“And this voice came towards noon, in summer, in her father's garden….She heard the voice on her right, in the direction of the church; and she seldom heard it without a light….[When] the angels left her, she wept, and fain would have been taken with them.”
Track Name: 1429
All these gentlemen are the same.
They want to burn a city to the ground.
They’re going to burn my city to the ground, in someone’s name.
They held my mother down.
I was in the backroom, watching this.
I was in the backroom, waiting for you to tell me what to do.

[Well, history is not just the book of war and kings.
At least, I never gave a hoot about that kind of thing,
and if you asked, I would jump into the fray, okay?
But one question, Catherine, where were you that Tuesday?]

Oh, my gentlemen won’t behave.
They want to burn something to the ground.
They’re going to burn a country to the ground and in my name.
They burn it down.
I am on the frontlines, watching this,
high up in a fighter plane, but closing in.
If it were up to me, we’d be bombing Dresden with roses.

[Well, history is not just the book of war and kings.
At least, my mother never gave a care about that kind of thing,
and if you asked, I would bow into the flame, okay?
But one question, Catherine, where the fuck were you today?]

Because all the things that I’m afraid of, they are happening, and they keep happening.
All the things that I’m afraid of are happening.
Will they keep on happening?


“Asked which she preferred, her standard or her sword, she answered she much preferred her standard...”
Track Name: 1431
My father’s garden had a sort of charm, didn’t it?
It was where we first met, that summer you were sent.

When I was fifteen, my father had a dream about me
running off with a pillar of men.
He said he wouldn’t let it happen and he’d rather drown me
than have a daughter like that. (“You filthy whore, you like that?”)
But my father’s garden has a sort of charm, I’ll admit,
now that I have left and won’t be coming back.

The Our Father used to have a sort of power for me, but I’ve lost it in my last hour. I’ve gone numb in a Rouen tower.

Run through the script once more.
The guards are at my door.
The whole world’s looking at me now.
They are questioning me.
So speak to me once more.
The guards are at my door.

So stay with me.
Promise me you’ll never leave.
I know my body’s just a body.
My body’s just a body, and
they will only set me free
and return me to you, if you'll have me.

(All the things that I was afraid of are happening.
Let them come, just let them come.)




“..whilst she was still with her father and mother, she was often told by her mother that her father spoke of having dreamed that Jeanne his daughter would go off with men-at-arms…[Jehanne] said she had heard her mother tell how her father said to her brothers: ‘In truth, if I thought this thing would happen which I have dreamed about my daughter, I should want you to drown her; and if you would not, I would drown her myself.’”