The painting speaks

Would you want to read a book that had this painting as its cover? Neither would I. So it's just as well that the publishers put a photo of Mark Rylance on the cover instead. No more pretty than the Cromwell he played in the TV series, Wolf Hall, but he at least looks more human. Earlier versions of the book the series is based on had a graphic depiction of the Tudor rose for a cover... BORIIIING!!! Covers aside, I am pretty certain that when author Hilary Mantel (1952-2022) researched the book, she spent some time in the National Portrait Gallery in London, looking at this painting and thinking about the man behind the turn-to-stone look. Particularly when it comes to the part of the book where the painting by Hans Holbein is delivered to Cromwell's family home.

Here's how the author has voiced Cromwell's first look at the painting:

He sees his painted hand, resting on the desk before him, holding a paper in a loose fist. It is uncanny, as if he had been pulled apart, to look at himself in sections, digit by digit. Hans has made his skin smooth as the skin of a courtesan, but the motion he has captured, that folding of the fingers, is as sure as that of a slaughterman's when he picks up the killing knife. He is wearing the cardinal's turquoise. He had a turquoise ring of his own, one time, which Liz gave to him when Gregory was born. It was a ring in the shape of a heart. He raises his eyes, to his own face. It does not much improve on the Easter egg which Jo painted. Hans had penned him in a little space, pushing a heavy table to fasten him in. He had time to think, while Hans drew him, and his thoughts took him far off, to another country. You cannot trace those thoughts behind his eyes.

The chapter goes on with, first Cromwell, and then his whole extended household taking a look and giving an opinion, followed by a visiting diplomat from the court of the Holy Roman Emperor. This is a ruler whose dominions made him the most powerful monarch in all Europe, including the Vatican State and, arguably, the person of the Pope himself. That King Henry VIII should be refused an annulment of his marriage to Queen Katherine of Aragon should be no surprise, given that Katherine was the niece of the Emperor, the ruler who held the Pope captive.

Wolf Hall is a historical fiction that tracks the life and career of Tudor statesman Thomas Cromwell. Wasn't sure if I would like the book, as it struck me that it might be a bit of a 'costume drama,' or period romp, of a kind that I generally find irritating. I only read it because I watched the final episode of series two of the TV drama based on the three books in the series. I was drawn to this final episode because it depicts the downfall and ultimate execution of Cromwell. Not because I like to see heads cut off by axe blow, but because of the pathos of the theme music to the second series. If you want to know, read, or hear more, it's all on the same internet that you found this article on.

Mark Rylance as Thomas Cromwell, looking a lot more personable than the image in the Holbein painting... not sure about Clair Foy, as an icy Anne Boleyn. Image: BBC and a bunch of dodgy deals with picture libraries... crap to all that. As a UK taxpayer and BBC licence holder, I have paid for this image so I will damn well use it if I want to. Eat my shorts, BBC!!!!

I find Mantel's writing a bit strange at times, easy to lose track of the point of view and, well, the point. Often veering off at a tangent. I will say, however, that this book is very much more interesting than I imagine a historical biography of Cromwell would be. On this basis it makes a powerful drama. When I read (or watch episodes in the series) I can see a Thomas Cromwell who is interesting, personable, a great character and a Don-like figure straight out of the Godfather. I do not see much of the historical pioneering protestant and reformer, axe-man and schemer from history. This is what makes it a great read. I feel closer to the real Cromwell reading this book than I do reading any historical account, despite the obvious dramatic embellishment... because of the dramatic embellishment.

Fact is, history is boring. Particularly the history of great men... the history of great white men from European ruling dynasties and their entourage. I would rather read accounts of social history or black history, or the history of women workers or any workers, than the history of kings, queens and generals. But a character like Cromwell is just too enticing for any self-respecting writer of historical fiction to overlook. He is the man who, more than any other, won a legal annulment of Henry's marriage to Katherine, paving the way for his second wedding, to his new chosen Queen Anne Boleyn. Aside from this bit of fixing, he was the fixmaster general to Henry. Running the government of the realm virtually single-handed, or so it would seem from historical and dramatical accounts.

The chapter that deals with the painting is indicative of Mantel's approach to the task of writing the book. The chapter depicts a time of reflection for Cromwell, then at the height of his powers. One of the strongest common-born men in Europe. Wealthy, influential, well-read, and one who wished to reform religion by seeing the wider distribution of an English-language Holy Bible. He was also, like the movie Godfather, a foster parent. In Cromwell's case there was, not one but, dozens of waifs and strays brought into the household and given a caring home. In geopolitical terms, Cromwell's power and influence had reached their peak and there was only one way he could go.

Instead of saying that, Mantel allows Cromwell, the man, to speak for himself through the vehicle of Holbein's portrait. Read on:

When Gregory [Cromwell's beloved son] comes home from Canterbury, he takes him in alone to see the painting, still in his riding coat, muddy from the road; he wants to hear his son's opinion, before the rest of the household get to him. He says, ‘Your lady mother always said she didn't pick me for my looks. I was surprised, when the picture came, to find I was vain. I thought of myself as I was when I left Italy, twenty years ago. Before you were born.’ Gregory stands at his shoulder. His eyes rest on the portrait. He doesn't speak. He is conscious that his son is taller than he is: not that it takes much. He steps sideways, though only in his mind, to see his boy with a painter's eye: a boy with fine white skin and hazel eyes, a slender angel of the second rank in a fresco dappled with damp, in some hill town far from here. He thinks of him as a page in a forest riding across vellum, dark curls crisp under a narrow band of gold; whereas the young men about him every day, the young men of Austin Friars, are muscled like fighting dogs, hair cropped to stubble, eyes sharp as sword points. He thinks, Gregory is all he should be. He is everything I have a right to hope for: his openness, his gentleness, the reserve and consideration with which he holds back his thoughts till he has framed them. He feels such tenderness for him he thinks he might cry. He turns to the painting. ‘I fear Mark was right.’ ‘Who is Mark?’ ‘A silly little boy who runs after George Boleyn. I once heard him say I looked like a murderer.’ Gregory says, ‘Did you not know?’

This contrast between the man who feels such tenderness for his son that he might cry, and the man who looks like a murderer (and admits to at least one murder, not to mention the many he sends to the scaffold to be hanged, burned or beheaded) is what makes the book such a compelling read. That and the homely detail that Mantel includes. Like sending the whole household out before dawn to collect mushrooms for them all to enjoy in an Italian breakfast recipe.

So, would I recommend the book? No, I don't recommend books. I would, however, invite you to take a look at the BBC series, if only the final episode (which includes a snippet from an earlier episode depicting Anne Boleyn's beheading by French swordsman). If you enjoy that, you will probably enjoy the book too. More importantly, reading the book will help you to understand better how to write historical fiction or, for that matter, any fiction, by putting the main character at its heart and allowing them (the MC) to tell their own story. So much fiction that I read fails to understand this simple, basic truth about good fictional story writing.

If you read this book and it does not improve your writing, I will give you your money back... but only after you have read it a second time and paid proper attention to the style and technique used by the author, Booker Prize winner Hilary Mantel.

Here is a 100-word story (Drabble) inspired by the Wolf Hall series and theme tune to series two:

Thanks for reading this article and please feel free to ask for your money back if you didn’t like it.

Ray