Bring Up The Bodies is the second book in Hilary Mantel’s award-winning historical series which charts the life and career of Master Secretary Thomas Cromwell, who became the most powerful man in Henry VIII’s court.
Following directly from the first in the series, Wolf Hall, Bring Up The Bodies follows Thomas as the King begins to suspect his second wife and current queen, Anne Boleyn, of adultery and treason, whilst failing to give him a male heir. Meanwhile, a young Jane Seymour comes into Henry’s line of sight, immediately diverting his affections toward her.
It becomes Cromwell’s job to once again achieve the impossible: to find a legal way to remove Anne, annul the marriage, and get Jane on the throne and into Henry’s bed. As if this weren’t enough, Europe remains in uproar against Henry’s independence from Rome and the Catholic yolk, and the King himself suffers a serious accident, altering his temperament to the point where anyone and everyone is at risk of falling from favour.
The book inevitably culminates with Thomas succeeding in the King’s wishes whilst sneaking in a bit of well-deserved retribution at the same time.
Mantel is one of our finest historical novelists. There is a reason why Wolf Hall won the Man Booker Prize in 2010 and a reason why Bring Up The Bodies won both the Man Booker Prize and The Costa Book Award in 2012. Her prose is ruthless, driven and accurate.
The narrative isn’t straight-forward; suspended between third person and an intimate free-indirect style, we simultaneously have access to an omniscient perspective and the inner workings of Cromwell. We walk beside him through the rooms of Henry’s court, enter his home two steps behind him, and sit before him as he pores over legal documents by candlelight. We see and hear what Thomas Cromwell perceives and yet at the same time, we are drawn into his thoughts, his plans and his beliefs.
This shadowing offers a unique opportunity: to see a character from both within and without, to witness their cunning and humour, and find ourselves equally embroiled in his plots and smiling to ourselves behind a hand at the private joke. We come to care for and love for the people he cares for and loves, resent his rivals and mourn the loss of some who were just too proud. Dear old Crumb becomes our best friend.
But this style of narration isn’t to everyone’s taste. Moving from third person perspective to an inner machination – sometimes set in Cromwell’s youth, sometimes thrown back to the moments before his rise – can be disorienting.
Dialogue flows into itself, challenging us to keep up with the conversation – an artful mimicry of how speech actually functions, except we can’t always see who is speaking. Tangents seem to shatter the scene and yet somehow become mystifyingly relevant, leaving only one option: to re-read the last couple of pages just in case we’ve missed something.
The number of characters on Mantel’s stage is deceptive. One person can be referred to by their actual name and then their title, even a pet name, in the same sentence, making that list of players at the start of the book more than a quick flick, but a regular point of referral if you’re not on ball. You’ll be in need of it so don’t skip it!
The opening of the novel is tedious (yet silently genius); if you’ve taken the time to (re)read Wolf Hall, you’re in for a good chapter of subtle recap and remembering. Handy if you’ve just joined the Tudor party but a hindrance if you’ve already been dancing to Mantel’s tune for a fortnight.
This book requires your attention. It requires your patience, your time and in some places, your soul, but it is worth the investment. Mantel has created such an authentic space through years of research and creation, that it’s hard to separate fiction from fact. This could have actually played out in this exact manner.
That’s the joy of Bring Up The Bodies. Once you adjust to the style and the complications, you’re absorbed into the world of the Tudor court. You develop an endearing relationship with the characters, you find yourself willing to jump into the pages and do whatever Master Secretary bids you do. You care. You close the book and you want to know more.
Bio: Sam Russell is a post-graduate with a deep love for history, politics and philosophy. He’s working on his debut novel and writes for GKBC Academy.
