Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel

Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel won the 2009 Man Booker Prize. The novel tells a fictionalized account of the rise to power of Thomas Cromwell during the reign of Henry Tudor – Henry VIII – in 16th-century England. This interesting story of one of the most famous – and infamous – families in British History tops at an imposing 604 pages. But every single page carries the story forward. Reading this novel causes an imperceptible and complete immersion into the story. Interestingly enough, Mantel became the first woman – and only the second person – to win two Man Booker Prizes, when the committee awarded her the 2012 prize for the sequel, Bring Up the Bodies. I collect first editions of Booker Prize winners, so I will have to wait for a reading copy before finishing the story.

Thomas Cromwell, the clever son of a blacksmith, became secretary to Cardinal Wolsey through the later years of his powerful position as Cardinal and Chancellor of England. When Wolsey fell, partly through the machinations of Anne Boleyn once she was queen, Thomas attracted the attention of Henry, who gradually raised him to the highest office beneath the king: chancellor.

As I have written several times, I find the Tudor period one of the most fascinating in English history. This novel – with its meticulous detail – has added greatly to my understanding of this time and its many interesting characters. In addition to elaborate family trees, Mantel provides a list of the characters in each of the important locales of the novel.

In one early passage, the “sweating sickness” has struck Thomas’ daughter, Anne. Mantel writes, “Mercy hangs outside their door the signs of the sweating sickness, She says, how has this happened? We scour, we scrub the floors, I do not think you will find in the whole of London, a cleaner house than ours. We say our prayers, I have never seen a child pray as Anne does. She prays as if she’s going into battle.

“Anne falls ill at first. Mercy and Johane shout at her and shake her to keep her awake, since they say if you sleep you will die. But the pull of the sickness is stronger than they are, and she falls exhausted against the bolster, struggling for breath, and falls further, into black stillness, only her hand moving, the fingers clenching and unclenching. He takes it in his own and tries to still I, but it is like the hand of a soldier itching for a fight” (139).

This passage conveys the desperation of the tragedy. The “sweating sickness” was a devastating disease that struck England and Europe in a series of epidemics from 1485 to about 1551, when it mysteriously disappeared. It struck without warning and frequently resulted in death within hours. We still do not know its cause.

While prior knowledge of the Tudors is not necessary, some familiarity enhances the read. For example, Mantel mentions, “John Seymour’s daughter” several times. This daughter, Jane, spent her days at the side of Anne Boleyn as one of her “ladies in waiting.” Knowing she would become Henry’s next queen following the execution of Queen Anne, added to my enjoyment.

But the thing I love about the Tudor’s involves the parallels to our country today. Thomas tries to deal with the rebellious Percy family. Mantel writes, “How can I explain to him? The world is not run from where he thinks. Not from his border fortresses, not even from Whitehall. The world is run from Antwerp, from Florence, from places he has never imagined; from Lisbon, from where the ships with sails of silk drift west and are burned up in the sun. Not from castle walls, but from counting houses, not by the call of the bugle but by the click of the abacus, not by the grate and the click of the mechanism of the gun but by the scrape of the pen on the pages of the promissory note that pays for the gun and gunsmith and the powder and the shot” (349).

For history buffs, for lovers of historical fiction, for aficionados of romance and mysteries and spy thrillers, Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall will captivate the discerning reader. 5 stars

--Chiron, 12/16/12

Winter King by Thomas Penn

During my days at LaSalle University in Philly back in the 60s, I took a bunch of history classes, because I was always fascinated with the subject. I reveled in a couple on the ancient Greeks and Romans, but my heart fell in a class on Tudor England.

Since then, I have been consumed with the Tudor dynasty, which began in 1485 after Henry Tudor defeated Richard III at Bosworth Field, thus ending the War of the Roses between the Royal Houses of Lancaster (red rose) and York (white rose). The family reign ended with the death of Elizabeth I in 1603.

Over the years, I have collected biographies of every major figure in the Tudor family – all the kings and queens, all six of Henry VIII’s wives, and a number of other peripheral figures around the court. However, I lacked one important piece of the puzzle – King Henry VII, the founder of the dynasty. Late last year, I discovered a new biography of Henry by Thomas Penn, who holds a PhD in early Tudor history from Cambridge University.

One of the fascinations I have with history revolves around the amazing discovery that history repeats itself over and over. Winter King: Henry VII and the Dawn of Tudor England amply proves the truth of that statement once again.

Following the defeat of Richard at Bosworth Field, Henry became King of England. Many people in England resented his crown, and numerous plots to dethrone him popped up over the next 20 years. Numerous factions, especially those with connections to the defeated York family, complained that Henry illegitimately claimed the crown.

The corruption, back-stabbing, spying, treachery, and extortion, which were the hallmarks of the Tudor family throughout its existence leaves me gasping in fascination. In the “Introduction,” Penn quotes Francis Bacon, who wrote, “Henry VII was ‘infinitely suspicious’ and he was right to be so, for his times were ‘full of secret conspiracies and troubles’. Perhaps the most telling verdict of all,” Penn writes, “is that Shakespeare, omits Henry VII altogether from his sequence of history plays – not for want of material, but, one suspects, because the reign was simply too uncomfortable to deal with” ( xxv-xxvi).

Penn tells us, the idea of Henry VII as a “time of transition, one in which the violent feuds of the previous decades gave way to a glorious age of renaissance and reformation … was a myth the Tudors themselves built” (xxv). Most scholars now see him as “the unifier of a war-torn land, a wise king who brought justice and stability, and who set the crown on a sound financial footing. Nonetheless they were unable to eradicate the lingering sense of a reign that degenerated into oppression, extortion and a kind of terror, at its core a Machiavellian king who inspired not love but fear” (xxv). Bacon, his first biographer, referred to Henry as a “dark prince” (xxv).

A splendid biography for anyone interested in the history of one of the most famous – and infamous – families in English history. 5 stars

--Chiron, 10/26/12