The Story of Thomas Cromwell
The only Cromwell I knew hitherto was Oliver, great-grand-nephew of the aforementioned Thomas, architect of the Civil War of 1658, and Lord Protector (which sounds very Jeor Mormant-esque) of the Republic that followed.
The only reason why I had heard of Oliver was because of some vaguely-remembered aphorism that seemed to suggest that the Civil War of 1658 had something to do with the Peace of Westphalia that was concluded a decade previously. Quarantined as I am right now, I have no way of knowing whether this latter part is true — but since I am reasonably sure that neither do you, I shall assume the liberty of stating my opinion as a vague fact.
Moving onto Thomas Cromwell. A few years ago, I started the exercise of procuring books that have been awarded the Booker Prize. That is when I came across the name Hilary Mantel: the first woman to win the prize twice. The plot seemed intriguing enough, and I purchased both “Wolf Hall” & “Bring Up The Bodies”. I made my first stab at it in mid-2017.
Yes, first stab, because I gave up “Wolf Hall” midway. My second (and successful) attempt at reading the series began in February 2020, when I got to know that the final installment in the trilogy would be launched in March. It genuinely pains me to abandon a book, but the reason why I abandoned “Wolf Hall” is the same reason why I have enjoyed it so much — the style.
Fact is, “Wolf Hall” requires patience. The book is quite voluminous, but that is not quite what I am getting at. Chronicling the rise of Thomas Cromwell, a commoner & a lawyer (the two being mutually exclusive, then as now) who rises from the obscurity of Putney to become Counsellor to the larger-than-life Henricus Rex — Henry VIII — the pace of “Wolf Hall” waxes & wanes with the plot. Hilary Mantel has mastered the knack of making the book slow down when she wants the reader to experience the dreariness that events begot. She also makes the book gallop when required.
Seeing the meteoric rise of Thomas Cromwell is exhilarating. Recovering from the fall-from-grace of his patron, Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, Cromwell plans, schemes and ruthlessly executes his way to the top. What makes his rise so much more enjoyable is that he manages to best men born into much greater privilege simply by way of being sharper, more efficient, more aware, and just better. Imagine the guy from down-town Putney, the son of a blacksmith (“Never forget what you are, bastard. The rest of the world will not”) taking on and besting the heirs of the oldest, most noble families in all of Britain.
While Wolf Hall is where Cromwell rises, “Bring Up The Bodies” is where he consolidates. My favorite part of the book was when Cromwell, Lord Privy, looks Anne Boleyn — still very much in the King’s favor — in the eye, and asks her to not threaten him. If a man whose subsistence & existence belong to his liege, can stand up to the said liege’s beloved — a beloved, furthermore, for whom the said liege broke ties with the Bishop of Rome, risking eternal condemnation — we can surely hustle around to find a pair that can be strapped on, as we attempt to stare down the daily demons that haunt our mundane existence. This second installment, much like all that in Cromwell that we so love and admire, is brisk and ruthless.
“The Mirror and the Light” — this final, latest crescendo is where Cromwell becomes Icarus. In style and volume, it was more reminiscent of the “Wolf Hall”, rather than “Bring Up The Bodies”. The most impressive part is the coup de grâce that comes at the conclusion: the fall of Cromwell is swift, and occupies barely an eighth part of this almost-900-page behemoth. Once again, Hilary Mantel displays her expertise in matching the pace of her narrative with the pace of contemporary events.
There are many lessons to be learnt from the life and times of Thomas Cromwell, chief of which is the art of catering to a mercurial overlord. One must know when to differ, and when to not. One must know how to give credit when it is not due, and how to voice disagreement. One must also never forget that — unless one has a couple of battalions and a massive inheritance at one’s disposal — that what comes from the King belongs to the King. Enemies always abound, and one is only as successful as one’s latest success. One mis-step is all that it takes to forget all that one has achieved & delivered, and bring the entire edifice crashing down.
It is not easy, writing a historical fiction.
Hilary Mantel has done a brilliant job.
