Hilary Mantel: Wolf Hall
May. 28th, 2009 11:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenakHilary Mantel wrote what is my all time, hands down, no question about it favourite novel set during the French Revolution (and in many ways about the French Revolution), A Place of Greater Safety. Here, she takes on Thomas Cromwell and the court of Henry VIII. I had high expectations and they were mostly met, yet it also left me with some dissatisfaction.
Now, Cromwell, he who is not to be confused with Oliver, has had traditionally a bad press in fictional treatments of the Tudor period (especially if the main character of a given book/play/film/tv show was either Thomas More, Katherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn) , though in the last decade that's changed somewhat; for example, C.R. Sansom's series of mysteries set in the Henrician period present him as ruthless but a sincere reformer who uses Henry's marital difficulties to advance the cause as much, if not more, than advancing himself). Still, he never got the central character star treatment, and Mantel takes on the challenge with gusto. After a prologue featuring Thomas Cromwell as an abused child, we flash forward a few decades to Thomas C. the skillful protegé of Cardinal Wolsey, and devoted father and husband, with intriguing hints every now and then about his mercenary time in Italy where he might or might not have hung out with Cesare Borgia, and then follow him as he rises. Wolf Hall, aka the title, is the seat of the Seymour family, a place referred to but not seen in this novel; the novel ends just before Thomas C. will accompagny Henry VIII. there, which, as a reader versed in Tudor history knows, will result in Henry falling in love with Jane Seymour, then via Cromwell's help, ridding himself of Anne Boleyn via a show trial and marrying Jane. Why end here (i.e. Cromwell shortly before, but not yet at, the height of his power under Henry), and not, say, after the Jane marriage, or go all the way to the fall and execution of Cromwell (after the Anne of Cleves marriage)? Because, at least that's what it looks like to me as a reader, this particular novel is structured in a way that makes Thomas More the central antagonist in as much as there is one, and that means More's execution is a fitting place to stop.
Which brings me to my slight problem. In many ways, this novel is the anti-Man of all Seasons in its deconstruction of Thomas More. Now, I don't mind this, and it's indeed refreshing to see highlighted what Robert Bolt's award winning play edits out - More's ruthless burning of heretics during his short tenure as Lord Chancellor, for example, or the viciousness and insults he hurled at Luther via pamphlets and books. Also, the interpretation of More's behaviour towards his wife as condescending and contemptous via his sarcasm that flies over her head is certainly viable. (It also reminds me of how your interpretation of the Bennet marriage in Pride and Prejudice depends on how Mr. Bennet's constant asides are played.) But where Mantel goes over the top, I feel, is in resorting to a cheap sympathy ploy to contrast More with Cromwell via letting More order a boy beaten for mocking the host, while Cromwell takes said boy in. (Something that as far as I know is invented by the author, as opposed to More's personal responsibility for the burnings of heretics, for example.) It's unnecessary, too; the novel has made its point about More-the-intolerant-Chatholic plenty of times before and after. (At this point, I was expecting her to give us a scene where More kicks a puppy, just to round it off.) Moreover, if you as an author have your hero tell More, during their big confrontational scene near the novel's climax, "I respected you, I respected you all the time", you need to show what there was to respect even while you show the antagonist's dark sides. And while the novel makes reference to More's wit, intelligence and writing style, it's in a tell not show manner; even his genial manner is only shown in a grating light (and the fact he insisted on giving his daughters an equal education only via his somewhat creepy and faintly incestous showing off of his oldest daughter's Greek reading skills) and if you want to play out the fable of hare and hedgehog with More and Cromwell, then show us that the hare actually can run before you let the hedgehog triumph. And it's not like the same novel doesn't illustrate Mantel can do better, let alone her previous work. Anne Boleyn is characterized in a mostly negative manner, too, but with Anne you're not left in doubt that she has brains in addition to ruthlessness (and we see that in a show, not tell manner), or that she's actually interested in reform beyond the fact it helps her own cause. You can see why Cromwell, in the future the novel hints at, will not hesitate to destroy her, but you also can see why he has something of an reluctant admiration for her. (Oh, and the novel comes up with a sympathetic Mary Boleyn without making her a long-suffering saint the way The Other Boleyn Girl did.)
The novel's most skillfully drawn character, though, to me was Cardinal Wolsey, and the first part of the book, in which we see Wolsey go from first man of the kingdom to dying on the road via Cromwell's eyes is by far my favourite part, both because of the Wolsey portrait (I have a soft spot for Renaissance princes of the church even while I can see the way they acted practically begged for a Luther to come) and because of Cromwell's relationship with him. There is a great passage later in the novel when Katherine of Aragon haughtily says to Cromwell "the cardinal to me was an enemy, yet that does not change my feeling for our holy mother the church", and Cromwell thinks "the cardinal to me was a friend and father, yet that does not change my feeling for our holy mother, the church") . Which sort of sums it up. Cromwell is already doubting and then increasingly on the Protestant path while still in Wolsey's service, and he can see the flaws of Wolsey as a person as well as a cleric, but he also genuinely loves and respects the hell out of the man, not just because Wolsey is a good politician but because Wolsey is that damn charming and the good father figure to Cromwell's own abusive biological father.
Portrait I'm neutral about: Henry. Henry VIII. is a problem because how do you depict him without either falling into caricature or softening? Mantel tries to get around either by keeping his appearances to a minimum and emphasizing his mercurial nature - her Henry is different each time to different people - which works within the novel. But pales compared with the similar cameo-like appearances in Sansom's Sovereign, where one scene in particular manages to convey the viciousness of Henry without resorting to clichés or caricature at all.
World building : is superb. As in A Place of Greater Safety, Mantel gets across the political and intellectual passions of a changing epoch in a way that feels as exciting as romantic or sexual connections. And the dialogue sparkles.
Now, Cromwell, he who is not to be confused with Oliver, has had traditionally a bad press in fictional treatments of the Tudor period (especially if the main character of a given book/play/film/tv show was either Thomas More, Katherine of Aragon or Anne Boleyn) , though in the last decade that's changed somewhat; for example, C.R. Sansom's series of mysteries set in the Henrician period present him as ruthless but a sincere reformer who uses Henry's marital difficulties to advance the cause as much, if not more, than advancing himself). Still, he never got the central character star treatment, and Mantel takes on the challenge with gusto. After a prologue featuring Thomas Cromwell as an abused child, we flash forward a few decades to Thomas C. the skillful protegé of Cardinal Wolsey, and devoted father and husband, with intriguing hints every now and then about his mercenary time in Italy where he might or might not have hung out with Cesare Borgia, and then follow him as he rises. Wolf Hall, aka the title, is the seat of the Seymour family, a place referred to but not seen in this novel; the novel ends just before Thomas C. will accompagny Henry VIII. there, which, as a reader versed in Tudor history knows, will result in Henry falling in love with Jane Seymour, then via Cromwell's help, ridding himself of Anne Boleyn via a show trial and marrying Jane. Why end here (i.e. Cromwell shortly before, but not yet at, the height of his power under Henry), and not, say, after the Jane marriage, or go all the way to the fall and execution of Cromwell (after the Anne of Cleves marriage)? Because, at least that's what it looks like to me as a reader, this particular novel is structured in a way that makes Thomas More the central antagonist in as much as there is one, and that means More's execution is a fitting place to stop.
Which brings me to my slight problem. In many ways, this novel is the anti-Man of all Seasons in its deconstruction of Thomas More. Now, I don't mind this, and it's indeed refreshing to see highlighted what Robert Bolt's award winning play edits out - More's ruthless burning of heretics during his short tenure as Lord Chancellor, for example, or the viciousness and insults he hurled at Luther via pamphlets and books. Also, the interpretation of More's behaviour towards his wife as condescending and contemptous via his sarcasm that flies over her head is certainly viable. (It also reminds me of how your interpretation of the Bennet marriage in Pride and Prejudice depends on how Mr. Bennet's constant asides are played.) But where Mantel goes over the top, I feel, is in resorting to a cheap sympathy ploy to contrast More with Cromwell via letting More order a boy beaten for mocking the host, while Cromwell takes said boy in. (Something that as far as I know is invented by the author, as opposed to More's personal responsibility for the burnings of heretics, for example.) It's unnecessary, too; the novel has made its point about More-the-intolerant-Chatholic plenty of times before and after. (At this point, I was expecting her to give us a scene where More kicks a puppy, just to round it off.) Moreover, if you as an author have your hero tell More, during their big confrontational scene near the novel's climax, "I respected you, I respected you all the time", you need to show what there was to respect even while you show the antagonist's dark sides. And while the novel makes reference to More's wit, intelligence and writing style, it's in a tell not show manner; even his genial manner is only shown in a grating light (and the fact he insisted on giving his daughters an equal education only via his somewhat creepy and faintly incestous showing off of his oldest daughter's Greek reading skills) and if you want to play out the fable of hare and hedgehog with More and Cromwell, then show us that the hare actually can run before you let the hedgehog triumph. And it's not like the same novel doesn't illustrate Mantel can do better, let alone her previous work. Anne Boleyn is characterized in a mostly negative manner, too, but with Anne you're not left in doubt that she has brains in addition to ruthlessness (and we see that in a show, not tell manner), or that she's actually interested in reform beyond the fact it helps her own cause. You can see why Cromwell, in the future the novel hints at, will not hesitate to destroy her, but you also can see why he has something of an reluctant admiration for her. (Oh, and the novel comes up with a sympathetic Mary Boleyn without making her a long-suffering saint the way The Other Boleyn Girl did.)
The novel's most skillfully drawn character, though, to me was Cardinal Wolsey, and the first part of the book, in which we see Wolsey go from first man of the kingdom to dying on the road via Cromwell's eyes is by far my favourite part, both because of the Wolsey portrait (I have a soft spot for Renaissance princes of the church even while I can see the way they acted practically begged for a Luther to come) and because of Cromwell's relationship with him. There is a great passage later in the novel when Katherine of Aragon haughtily says to Cromwell "the cardinal to me was an enemy, yet that does not change my feeling for our holy mother the church", and Cromwell thinks "the cardinal to me was a friend and father, yet that does not change my feeling for our holy mother, the church") . Which sort of sums it up. Cromwell is already doubting and then increasingly on the Protestant path while still in Wolsey's service, and he can see the flaws of Wolsey as a person as well as a cleric, but he also genuinely loves and respects the hell out of the man, not just because Wolsey is a good politician but because Wolsey is that damn charming and the good father figure to Cromwell's own abusive biological father.
Portrait I'm neutral about: Henry. Henry VIII. is a problem because how do you depict him without either falling into caricature or softening? Mantel tries to get around either by keeping his appearances to a minimum and emphasizing his mercurial nature - her Henry is different each time to different people - which works within the novel. But pales compared with the similar cameo-like appearances in Sansom's Sovereign, where one scene in particular manages to convey the viciousness of Henry without resorting to clichés or caricature at all.
World building : is superb. As in A Place of Greater Safety, Mantel gets across the political and intellectual passions of a changing epoch in a way that feels as exciting as romantic or sexual connections. And the dialogue sparkles.
