Matt Quann's Reviews > Wolf Hall

Sometimes I feel like I'm reading books for cocktail parties that are never going to happen. I'll pick a book off the shelf as conversational ammunition for an exchange featuring a tally of "important" works read. Of course, this exchange never happens and I find myself subjected to the mild tedium of a book that just doesn't work for me. Wolf Hall is the exception in that real, live, homo sapiens pointed at it on my bookshelf to ask if I had read it.

But, you know, Wolf Hall is the type of book that people buy because of the Booker Prize banner and let it age like a fine wine upon their shelves. I'm no exception and was happy to let it gather dust and be a shallow topic of conversation rather than one of any depth. Now that I've spent over a month working my way through Hilary Mantel's divisive book, I'd be more than happy to find a fellow reader at any party.

Because, man, there's a whole lot to talk about.

I hit this book like it was a school project. I carried it with me everywhere! I'd plan to go to a coffee shop just so I could commit a few hours to tackling the beast. I was asking people at parties if they'd read it just to see if they'd felt the same. When I wasn't reading it, it stared me down from coffee tables, night stands, and surfaces both flat or otherwise inclined.

The bad stuff first: it can be HELLA confusing. I don't mean this in an in media res or it'll-all-make-sense-in-the-end kind of way, but in the you-gotta-hit-wikipedia and Jesus-Christ-the-family-tree kind of way. The first thing I was warned about: Mantel uses "he" to denote her hero Thomas Cromwell as well as anyone who is speaking. I thought it wouldn't be that much of a problem, but when the cast started to expand, the dialogue became a slippery serpentine knot. This ironed itself out in my mind and I kind of got used to "going with it" and settling for broad strokes rather than entire comprehension. It also works as a neat device to get into the head of Cromwell.

Ah, Cromwell. I mean, whether or not the book was going to be something I loved or hated, Cromwell was going to stick around in my brain. The man is presented as an almost infallible strategist and I would be taxed to imagine a problem to which he is not equal. Cromwell is complex, calculating, and has a highly enlightened, almost-modern view of the world around him. He holds no illusions about the sins which he commits in the name of his advancement, but he is rarely plagued by them (barring, perhaps, the end of the book). Despite the questionable ethics of his whole business, it's hard not to be taken by Cromwell's rise to power (think early seasons House of Cards). Though the book is about a lot of other things, its effective portrayal of Cromwell's psyche is what takes centre stage.

It is through Cromwell's calculating mind that the complexities of Tudor politics are delivered to the reader. Barring a rhyme that I can never remember, I knew little of Henry VIII aside from his separation from the church in Rome and his savage handling of his many wives. This book would not be my recommendation for an introduction to Tudor history. There's, like, 45 Thomases, half as many Annes and Marys, and everyone goes by three or four different titles. I can't count the times I had to flick back and forth to a confusing and rarely helpful genealogical graph and dramatis personae. Eventually, this struggle ended and I just tried my best to keep my head above water.

What is unassailable is Mantel's lavish writing and some of the most comprehensive, well-researched world-building I've come across. The goings-on of the world, the clothing, architecture, and manners of people all help to make you feel as if you are hanging with Cromwell's crew in the 1500s. Once I started to realize that the vegetables served were in accordance with the season I had to put the book down to imagine the intense labour Mantel had taken in order to bring this world to life with such accuracy. Mantel's actual writing is equal parts elegant and evocative of the harsh reality of the times. There were some sentences and bits of dialogue that I couldn't help but marvel at, even when I was most frustrated with the book.

I flip-flopped on this book so many times during my reading of Wolf Hall. I'd go from admiration to anger in a span of ten pages. All-too-often I felt as if I were trying to decipher who was speaking, what was going on, what was at stake instead of getting lost in the story. Indeed, Wolf Hall is certain to be the most challenging book I read this year and the most active reading experience I've had in quite some time. In the end, that's not a bad thing. I don't mind working a bit for my reward, and after an intermission with a few other books, I returned to the last 250 pages with a fervour.

Wolf Hall is a book that's earned a fair share of praise. I totally get that! Mantel's craft is really impressive and I saw the appeal of the book even when I became so confused that I wanted to pelt it into the Atlantic. I'm really glad I read the book, and you can rest assured that I'll be back to see the fall of Anne Boleyn in the sequel. Even though my review is fairly long, I still haven't touched on a lot of stuff worth discussing. But, as I said, I've got to save some of it for the eventual party.