All the good things I'd been hearing about Wolf Hall were absolutely true! What a great novel. A rush of impressions, and I'm not sure where to start. The political and economic machinations of Henry VIII's reign via Thomas Cromwell's perspective doesn't really sound all that appealing, does it? But it is. Because Mantel knows how to spin a tale. A sure hand with characterization reveals a vulnerable king, a desperate queen-in-waiting, and a minister who marvels at his own good fortune even while he does all to ensure it continues.

The novel centres around Thomas Cromwell who, through use of intelligence, luck, and timing, manages to ride the fortunes of Wolsey even after they begin to fall. We are introduced to the Great Matter (Henry's appeal for divorce and the religious upheaval that followed its denial) just as Wolsey fails his king and Cromwell steps in to save the day. Through Cromwell, we get a total immersion in Henry's court, rubbing elbows with the Boleyns, the Mores, the erstwhile Queen Katharine and her tragic daughter. A fascinating world of Tudor doings revealed in the best possible prose.

And Thomas Cromwell is nothing if not believably complex. One imagines this is the sort of figure who still dominates board rooms and influences the tide of nations. There's definitely something powerful about Mantel's Cromwell. And he's likeable.

Many of Mantel's interpretations of historical figures are likeable in this novel, in one way or another. Even Henry VIII. I did find myself strongly disliking two figures I'm normally more sympathetic towards: Sir Thomas More and Anne Boleyn. That didn't keep me from enjoying the book, though. My opinion of More has changed dramatically over the years anyway, and Anne Boleyn remains elusive (as always). The real alchemy is in the fleshing out of Cromwell and Wolsey, who jumps off the page.

And while this narrative shows every indication of meticulous research, it is more than just a fictional take on a given time period. Undeniably relevant, and definitely involving, it transcends genre . . . as the best narratives must (and do). Loved it!

Just a taste (these are Cromwell's impressions of the poetry in accounting!):

It's easy to employ some child who will total the columns and push them under your nose, get them initialled and then lock them in a chest. But what's the point of that? The page of an accounts book is there for your use, like a love poem. It's not there for you to nod and then dismiss it; it's there to open your heart to possibility. It's like the scriptures: it's there for you to think about, and initiate action.