Saint Joan, Deathly Humor?

        I have already hinted at thematic elements of death prior in The Secret Agent, but I find that the humbling nature of this force is more predominantly flaunted before us in Saint Joan by Bernard Shaw. Here, especially since in a war repleling invaders, death is a bit sublime in such a "ferocious" battle of powers, but ends up piked as a hero's head, praised yet condemned. Joan fights valiantly and wins greatness for her country of France, but ultimately her support wanes and she is incarcerated, and later executed in fire, by conspiritors, enemies, who see her zeal as a demonic manifestation. After such tragedy, she is brought up in a dreamscape to be known for her Saintly efforts, but when she offers herself to the world once more, she is quickly dismissed and left to ponder meaning. Much is the same to our own lives, as we are all our own supporter through everything, but at times that is seen to wane under the weight of many.

        This play is not exactly the most serious of pieces, although it does bring up some very stirring and abstract aspects of ourselves. Perhaps the biggest concern is the feministic aspect of Joan, that she does not want to conform to "womanly" status, but rather offer her faith as a weapon to defend her nationality (this faith is also non-conform from her mention of direct communication with saints). This not only drives the plot, but also questions it by the agast action of others, who support her efforts because of her triumphant knowledge and prowess, then abdandon her when she goes beyond their own personal limits. Reaching that limit, is where her weapon in all this, faith, is brought into question for inevitable downsprial in store for her. By her belief and procalimation of such that she is chosen by God, does His will, and direct communes with saints there so, she is then accused of blasphemy as blatantly as her victorious faith has brought her. These alone reflect some aspects of even today, as females are technically equal to men and allowed such (mostly), their still lies the prejudice and assumptions that are associated with the gender regardless. This stagnantly applies a very viscous sense of reality that varies opinions are their are hues of every color, but ultimately is usually still intact even after warring ideals convene. The future does not seem too different to change, sadly, if even now we still cannot take everyone along with us to each side of the nuances of everday life.

         Aside of all that, I found one other powerful and somewhat unrelated image in the play, the conversion of Joan's one accuser (the one that intially raves about her burning, sees her burn, then in regret converts his efforts in his career change). By transitioning from accuser to a being of regret shows that words tend to seem all well sitting there, but when they take action, horror is the result. We may condemn everyone around us for every reason to be known, but when it comes to that trigger time, one may think before, and if they proceed, the result may not be satisfaction, but irrevocable regret. Hopefully not the same can be said for Saints in the world, then all is truly hopeless for us.