Orange Shortlist

Oh dear, I'd better get reading...

I'm getting a little fed up with the ubiquitous Wolf Hall now. To my mind, it has three faults, and three faults is one too many for it to be great book. (For those of you interested, the three faults are: present tense; too much use of the male singular pronoun, causing confusion in places; and the Henry-Anne story has been done to death, even if this is from a new point of view. And it is the Henry-Anne story, equally as much as it's Cromwell's.) The Booker's enough for any author, surely - let's give someone else a chance.

I'm interested in the Rosie Alison, possibly because it's the right era, although I do realise, looking at the cover, that I've passed over it in bookshops. Again I am forced to consider the importance of a decent jacket.

I'll wait for The Lacuna to come out in paperback, as it's just too big to carry around on a daily basis - shades of The Children's Book in that problem.

It's interesting, as judge Daisy Goodwin comments, that even the long list was filled with "grim" subject matter. Art reacting to The Recession, perhaps? Or a peculiarly female affliction, a post-feminist depression?

Wolf Hall (3)

I am torn between "meh" and loving this book. "Meh" because I didn't realise it would follow so closely the Katherine-Henry-Anne story yet again - this really has been done to death now, surely? - and loving it because...well, it is just so absorbingly written. And Mantel is right: Cromwell is an intriguing character, and one ripe to hang this story on; and she brings him utterly to life; and perhaps I did learn a lot about the machinations that go on behind the scenes of law-making, but... there's just such a 'but' with this book.

First of all, you have to have time to read Wolf Hall. Big, fat chunks of time. I have been working to the point of exhaustion these last few weeks, and without a solid two hours every day to devote to the book, I just couldn't get into it. Fifteen minutes on a train here, ten minutes before I turn the light out there, just won't cut it with this monster. I found myself bored and frustrated with the book. But - there's that 'but' again - that's not to say that if you do have the time needed to really get into it, it's not brilliant. A rare Saturday morning free to lie around and drink coffee and do nothing else but read this weekend, proved that.

There are some wonderful humorous moments that I wasn't expecting, some great witticisms on the part of both Cromwell and others, which add a very human dimension to this well-worn tale. It undoubtedly forces a new look at Cromwell, an historical figure whose reputation precedes him always, and which perhaps might be reconsidered in the light of Mantel's thorough research. And it is a good novel, and interesting - the title, for example, is very clever. Wolf Hall itself plays no role in the book, yet is the very final sentence. It is as though we and the characters are always pushing forward, toward something, toward this place and the events it holds, as though Wolf Hall itself is a great towering representation of fate, that sits like a predator waiting for us to finally arrive... for it is the family seat of the Seymours, whose youngest daughter Jane will be Anne Boleyn's successor. And it is at Wolf Hall, one presumes, that the story will be taken up in the sequel currently underway. And of course, I shall read the sequel eagerly. Eagerly...but...

Wolf Hall (2)

Two days in. Is it - could it be? - living up to the hype? Well, I'll begin by allaying fears that my adoration of The Children's Book may have been shaken; it hasn't, not one bit. AS Byatt was robbed of the Booker, and I stand by that view. That does not, however, mean that Wolf Hall doesn't deserve its many accolades. It is everything you have heard it is - it is unputdownable, the ultimate, "oh, I'll just read the next little bit" book. I'm over my dislike of the present tense; it's so well worked that it feels right, the correct way for this story to be told. But there is another problem, and it's a peculiar one; not one I've ever come across before. It almost feels like an experiment, and I'm not sure that the results are positive. Let me explain: unless he is being addressed by another character, Cromwell's name is never used. The story is told in third person, thereby making use of the omniscient narrator, yet this narrator only ever calls Cromwell "he". The problem arises when another male character is also referred to by the pronoun - you reach a point where you simply can't tell if the "he" you are reading about is Cromwell or the last named male. Here is a short yet simple example:

"That's like Suffolk; to think the letter of the law is some kind of luxury. He whispers to the cardinal again..."

That "He" refers to Cromwell, even though the last named male was Suffolk. I've read whole pages, only to realise that though I thought I was reading about one character, I was actually reading about Cromwell, and I have to re-read it replacing the image in my head with the correct one.

This vexation aside, I am enjoying it. The constant use of the pronoun, combined with the present tense, gives a genuine sensation of being inside Cromwell's head. It is set out almost as a play, with scenes, which is very appropriate, as I think we tend to see the whole Tudor era as some sort of theatrical performance anyway. It reminds me in tone of Christopher Rush's Will, crossed with - I hate to say it, but I can't hide from the truth - The Other Boleyn Girl.

And though it's absolutely no fault of Hilary Mantel's, I find it terribly frustrating that my image of Henry VIII is no longer of a paunchy, fine-calved red-head, but of Jonathan Rhys-Meyers. And I didn't even watch The Tudors!

Wolf Hall (1)

And so it begins...

From Nancy Mitford to Hilary Mantel - is it really so odd? My paperback - and therefore transportable, hence readable - copy arrived yesterday. I am disappointed to find it is written in present tense; I'm really rather averse to novels in the present tense. However, Wolf Hall has had such consistent praise that I am willing to overlook this fact and dive straight in. I cannot believe that I will prefer it to - or even like it as much as - The Children's Book, its Booker counterpart in volume if nothing else, but to enjoy it even half as much I shall consider a triumph. I may be gone some time...