Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel

Finally! Finished accompanying Thomas Cromwell in his incredible rise to power in Tudor England via Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall. 

What a great ride. The tale is fascinating, the narrative is lyric and descriptions are often beautiful. Here's a tiny sample (from page 541) of how Mantel infuses poetry into the narrative descriptions of Cromwell's perceptions:

"Even he can see her beauty, now she is queen. Her face seems sculpted in the purity of its lines, her skull small like a cat's; her throat has a mineral glitter, as if it were powdered with fool's gold." 

Although fascinated by WWII history since my university days, I've never cared a whit about Henry VIII or Tudor England, much less stuffy old Thomas Cromwell.

Now Thomas Cromwell is not only fully human to me, but I am a little in love with him. Thus is the cloak of dreams that Hilary Mantel has woven.

Wolf Hall not only compelled me to care about Cromwell - and his rise from being the uneducated son of a drunken blacksmith to lawyer, polymath, and chief minister to the King of England - but I've reached the end of her 650 page tale wanting to savor the story more fully by listening to the unabridged audio version.

Should you read or listen to this wonderful book, you will find that Cromwell was, if nothing else, a pragmatist.

In an era in which civil war was threatening and England's descent into chaos a possibility thanks to poverty, Plague, and religious strife, Cromwell worked for stability and peace. The last thing he wanted to see was disaffected citizens killing each other out of fear and ignorance.

To that end, he wrote legislation and set legal traps for those who worked against his purposes. He did not want what happened in Münster to happen in London. From page 590:

"Sectaries, anabaptists, have taken over the city of Münster. your worst nightmares - when you wake, paralyzed, and think you have died - are bliss compared with this. The burgomasters have been ejected from the council, and thieves and lunatics have taken their places, proclaiming that the end times have come and all must be rebaptised. Citizens who dissent have been driven beyond the walls, naked, to perish in the snow. Now the city is under siege from its own prince-bishop, who intends to starve it out. The defenders, they say, are for the most part are women and children left behind."

Having seen the workings of the Church while in the employ of Cardinal Wolsey, Cromwell was not a fan. 

He knew of the clergy's excesses and offspring. He saw how the Church had one set of moral standards for itself and another for everyone else. Worse, he saw that the Church made a royal living off frightening its followers with fear of God and Hell. 

Thus, he did not perceive the Church as acting out of any kind of inspired motive or endowed with a transcendent spiritual imperative.

Instead, he saw a self-serving, man-made institution intent in its desire to amass  power and wealth through manipulating people's fears and inciting them to war.

Indeed, the Church, which had set itself up as the sole and final arbiter on the correct interpretation of the compassionate and pacific Christ's words, was neither inclined to "turn the other cheek" nor love its neighbors, but was eager to incite its followers to kill any who threatened its authority.

Having been a soldier, Cromwell knew the barbarity of war. This, along with the bankrupting cost, made him a staunch advocate for peace and negotiation. 

Unwilling to allow those, who equated opposing the Church's absolute authority with going against the will of God, to incite citizens to anarchy or to abet invasion by Spain or France, he placed himself firmly in their way. From page 514:

"It is necessary to break the hold of these people who talk of the end times and threaten us with plagues and damnation. It is necessary to dispel the terror they create." 

After all, neither the Pope nor the bishops would be the ones suffering from the chaos, misery, and famine of war. They would be kept safe, guarded and protected in their sumptuous quarters.

So Cromwell worked diligently to siphon power and money from the Church, preferring - since Kings come and go - for Parliament to be the governing body of England. 

Yet, it is Cromwell's astute observations regarding how money makes the world go 'round that catapulted him to power. He understood how, while ideals stir the heart and soul, without laws and financial support to implement them, they can change little. 

Mantel illustrates this beautifully during a conversation between Cromwell and Harry Percy, a nobleman who despises his wife and still longs for Anne Boleyn, whom he had chased in his youth.

In a last-minute attempt to keep Anne from marrying the king while keeping his own desperate dream of having her alive, Percy has made an outrageous claim: that he and Anne were secretly married. Here's an abbreviated excerpt of that conversation from page 378:

"He [Cromwell] hears him out. The slide and tumble into incoherence....true love...pledges...swore she would give her body to me, allowed me such freedom as only a betrothed woman would allow...

'My lord,' he says. 'You have said what you have to say. Now listen to me. You are a man whose money is almost spent. I am a man who knows how you have spent it. you are a man who has borrowed all over Europe. i am a man who knows your creditors. One word from me, and your debts will be called in.'

'Oh, and what can they do?' Percy says. 'Bankers have no armies.'

... How can he 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 click of the mechanism of the gun but by the scrape of the pen on the page of the promissory note that pays for the gun and the gunsmith and the powder and the shot." 

And so it remains, today.

Who determines if there will be peace or war? Those who provide funding.

Who pushes for war and riles up the populace? Those for whom peace is not paying as handsomely as war will.

As Hubby say, "T'were ever thus."

Yet I hold a vision for humankind that, one day, we will evolve far enough beyond our reptilian ancestors to leave war behind. 

One day we will rise above the amygdala's program of "eat or be eaten," grow out of fearful visions of a mercurial God's Hell and punishment, and abandon our insistence that hate, revenge, and war serve us in any way.

In short, I believe humanity, as a whole, will grow up spiritually and align with the love and compassion at our core.

But I digress.

After listening to this book on audio, I intend to eagerly read Mantel's recently-released sequel, Bring Up The Bodies.

 Well, in truth, maybe I'm not all that eager to stand side-by-side with Thomas Cromwell as he falls from grace. 

A one-of-a-kind visionary who was more capable than most, the king learned that, by simply entrusting Cromwell with more and more responsibility, he could be assured that things would be well-looked after, and there would be accountability for all money spent. 

Here are the highlights of Thomas Cromwell's career. These are the titles (and responsibilities) bestowed upon him:

1531 - became a member of the privy council
1532 - Master of Court of Wards
1532 - Master of Jewel House
1533 - Chancellor of the Exchequer
1534 - King's Secretary
1534 - Master of the Rolls
1535 - Vicar-General
1536 - Lord Privy Seal
1536 - Baron Cromwell of Oakham
1537 - Knight of the Garter
1537 - Dean of Wells
1539 - Lord Great Chamberlain
1540 - created Earl of Essex

As a result of the power conferred upon him through his advisory position and control of these offices, Cromwell midwifed essential changes in English law and, for that,  deserved a comfortable and pleasant retirement, not the chopping block. 

Perhaps, however, I will see a meaner Cromwell in Mantel's follow-up, one for whom I lose affection. 

Perhaps Cromwell will more closely resemble Mantel's description of Thomas More - with his grisly pastime of burning scholars at the stake who disagreed with his religious views - for whom I have always had the greatest disdain.

Perhaps Thomas Cromwell will prove too terrifyingly complex, with a heart turned entirely cold.

Or, perhaps, his execution will prove to be the result of a a terrible and sad misunderstanding that weighs on my heart as the last page of Bring Up The Bodies is turned. 

We'll see.