Reformation reading: "Wolf Hall" by Hilary Mantel

In the last post, about a Pakistani interloper, I made mention of a "hefty historical novel" on which I was embarked and which the subcontinental tale briefly interrupted. So I now reveal that Wolf Hall was the novel in question, and its heftiness 674 pages in my paperback edition. 

This book earned Hilary Mantel her first Booker Prize (with, extraordinarily, the sequel, Bring Up the Bodies, winning her second), so it's good. I'm not being ironic, it is good. Mantel pulls off a totally immersive and page-turning evocation of an era made spuriously familiar to my generation by Ladybird history books and a privileged place in the nationalistic school curriculum of my youth, latterly much sighed over by educational and political conservatives.  Mantel's version of Tudor politics and history is of course much more sophisticated and ambiguous than the official version I was brought up on. It should be; her research is ferociously detailed and her understanding of the period profound, even without that research being worn in any way on her sleeve. Just historically, this book seems to me a magnificent achievement.

But, lest we forget, Wolf Hall is not primarily history; it is a novel. The characters are, for the most part, Mantel's (yes, probably rather well informed) imaginings of historical figures: Henry VIII, Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Mary Tudor, Cardinal Wolsey, Thomas More, Hans Holbein, and, principally, Thomas Cromwell, by the end of the book the King's first minister and general fixer. All these characters, and many more, come to life in Mantel's rendition of them, but the heart of the novel is Thomas Cromwell, through whose eyes we perceive just about everything. 

But staying with the history for a second, it is the portrayal of Cromwell which makes Wolf Hall a distinctly revisionist view of Tudor history, for some in quite a contentious manner, as it touches not only Cromwell himself, but also the (literally) sainted Thomas More, who is revered for having refused to sign up to King Henry's dynastically self-interested English reformation, and having gone to the executioner's block as a result. Cromwell has traditionally been cast as the villain of this story, a conniving and cynical manipulator, prepared to go to all lengths to get the King's way, to ride roughshod over religious and moral principle and to enrich himself in the process. (c.f. A Man for All Seasons or even Holbein's contrasting portraits of the antagonists: one saintly and open-faced, the other dark, brooding, menacing even.)

Thomas Cromwell, by Hans Holbein

Thomas More, by Hans Holbein

In Mantel's hands, Cromwell emerges from the evil stereotype as a much more interesting and, yes, sympathetic character. His early life, which largely escaped historical record, but was certainly humble, is portrayed as an escape from a brutal father (a childhood beating opens the book) and, in a series of flashbacks throughout the story, as an international progress through hard knocks in war and business, which leave Cromwell with his eyes wide open as to how things get done in the real world, some practical skills best not advertised, a very shrewd head for business, an international world view and a discreet sympathy for protestant reformers in Germany and the Netherlands. Indeed, Cromwell despises the superstition and corruption which to great extent characterise the Church of his age, an attitude which underpins most of what he subsequently does - not all of it very palatable, to be sure - for the King. He is also portrayed as humane and rational, in an almost pre-Enlightenment manner, in his dealings with others, heading a full and happy home, generally able to overlook small heresies or suitably measured opposition to change, and to strike a reasonable deal.

This attitude is clear in his relations with Thomas More, for whom he consistently seeks a way out of the impasse leading him to the executioner's block. One can credit More for not taking the many options offered to him, of course, but in this portrayal, his martyrdom is intellectual and self-indulgent, even cruel to others. More's treatment of his wife is cold and disdainful, while his  pleas of innocence and pure-heartedness elicit from Cromwell one of the few passionate outbursts he allows himself in the book - reminding More of the various well-meaning protestant "heretics" he has tortured and sent to be burned alive in his vindictive career.

It is, Mantel reminds us at frequent intervals, a brutal age, in which gruesome public burnings are public entertainment on one hand, and a real outcome for many who do little more than own an English translation of the Bible on the other. This indeed is that world she sets Cromwell against, even while he remains obliged to participate in its unpleasant politics. In many ways, Cromwell represents a modern and modernising figure. When the alternatives are devastating civil wars of succession (the last of which is still very alive in Henry's mind, and a good reason for his obsession with a male heir) and public burnings of heretics, the bureaucratic mode of government Cromwell embodies, where ledgers are more important than genealogies, seems distinctly attractive. 

So how does all this work as a novel? It has to be said that this is a long book, longer than my modern attention-span-of-a-gnat self is accustomed to reading. It needs going at in seriously long bites, and I certainly got most out of it after deciding to take it on during long journeys (rather than writing blog posts, for example). Before that, I perhaps made rather heavy weather of it. Now I have finished it, however, I realise just how absorbing and admirable this book is. It also requires quite attentive reading, not least because Mantel plays a little fast and loose with grammar in one notable respect: in using "he" to refer to Cromwell, even when the context would suggest the pronoun refers to someone else. This can be quite disorientating at times, but you do get used to it, and, as a narrative trick, it does very effectively underline the fact that this is Cromwell's view.

So, highly recommended indeed. One for the long summer days with time to spend with a truly good book.

For completeness, the King, Holbein again