Bring Up The Bodies by Hilary Mantel

It’s two years and seven months since I read Mantel’s first installment of her Thomas Cromwell saga, and unlike my more diligent mother, I did not re-read ‘Wolf Hall’ in preparation for the second.  And thankfully a re-read wasn’t necessary as ‘Bring Up the Bodies’ managed to be its own entity with timely reminders of pertinent facts from the past occurring without being intrusive. 

If you care to look back at my blog post regarding ‘Wolf Hall’ you can remind yourself of my fairly skeptical view of historical fiction, but how Mantel’s novel did leave me wanting to know what happened next. In the same way that the first book chronicled the demise and rise of Henry VIII’s first and second wives respectively, the second does the same for the changeover from second to third.  The wheeling and dealing of Cromwell comes into play again and the intrigue involved to carry out the King’s wishes is breath taking and rather disturbing!  The way in which the women are involved in sexual politics and pushed like chess pieces at the whim of the rich, powerful and well-connected, is expertly depicted once more by Mantel. 

I found this novel particularly poignant because I was reading it around the time of the birth of the Prince of Cambridge, the third in line to the throne of the United Kingdom.  The modern contrasted rather dramatically in so many ways to similar events in the Tudor court, especially the difference in infant mortality rates now so that there appeared no real question of whether the baby would survive.   Moreover, the sex of the baby didn’t matter (although I suppose the legislation regarding equal succession has only just been agreed!), unless you had a bet placed either way, whereas the matter of a male heir was crucial and a component of King Henry’s desire for a new wife.

Returning to Mantel’s version of events, I can’t quite summon up the same hyperbole that adorns the cover and several pages within, however, I would say that her second novel on this subject is more engaging that the first.  It has more pace and purpose, making it easier to read, although in compromising its style for readability, it lost much of its immediacy.  I guess it’s difficult to do it all and please everyone, although from the number of awards and the amount of praise heaped on Mantel, she has done a considerable job in succeeding in the eyes of many.  We await the third installment and wonder whether it too will achieve the accolade of Booker winner…

The Sea, the Sea by Iris Murdoch

Murdoch’s Booker winner begins as a memoir of a retired actor, Charles Arrowby, who has moved from London to live by the coast.  He records his daily life, including his particular simple style of eating, and reflects on times and people past.  This gives the foundation on which to build the plot that unfolds which is based around the discovery of his childhood sweetheart, who had disappeared from his life, is living in the coastal village with her husband.  There ensues an almost farce-like storyline with various old friends of Charles turning up with larger than life characters who partake in the drama that unfolds.  However, there is a sinister undertone touching on domestic abuse within the marriage.  Charles therefore feels as though he is rescuing her when he kidnaps her but it is all rather uncomfortable as she doesn’t want to be rescued. 

Murdoch’s descriptions and depictions of the setting and the characters are excellent and have great immediacy.  However, I did find the internal dialogue of Charles and his introspections rather self-indulgent and they become rather tiresome.  His deliberations are extensive and lead to confusion and questionable decisions and conclusions which lead to further complications.  The relationships between the various characters are rather dysfunctional and far from conventional, with all of the marriages being seemingly unhappy due to affairs and occurrences.  There seems a underlying message that one can never truly know another person, echoing Shakespeare’s “All the world’s a stage”, heightened by the fact that many of the book’s characters are “players” by profession and they seem to thrive on the intrigue created by the various dramas.

The sense of unknowing is highlighted by a theme of spirituality running through the novel as Charles’ cousin has Buddhist beliefs and there are various unexplained phenomena that occur in the course of the story.  Moreover, there is significant interaction between the characters and nature, demonstrated by the behaviour and sounds of the sea and the impact of the weather which seems to influence events.

There were really enjoyable elements to this book, with anticipation built up about what was going to happen next.  However, these positive aspects were diluted somewhat by the endless internal monologue of the protagonist.  However, I am looking forward to reading other books by Iris Murdoch, which includes a copy of ‘The Bell’ which I’ve had in my ‘To Read’ pile for a while…  Not long now before I am unleashed upon literature beyond the realm of the Bookers…!