Mirror and Light really is all about memory. Cromwell turns back in his mind memories upon memories: his time with the cardinal, this Lollard burning, when he was married and his daughters were still alive. And everytime he does so, I get a little more worried. This book is like a slow boiling pot. The more we read, the more the tension rise. The higher Cromwell goes, the further he will fall.
You are right when you say it is so strange that Henry insists on a love match. I wonder why that is.
It's fascinating that there are two instances up to this point where Henry has almost died, and yet we are slowly creeping to Cromwell's death. "Nothing protects you, nothing. In the last ditch, not rank, nor kin. Nothing between you and the fire." Mantel is foreshadowing Cromwell's death in so many ways, it's astonishing.
Well put. At the Wolf Hall Weekend, the historians talked about Henry. They all agreed it was just odd that he insisted on a love match – it wasn't the norm, and it was a massive headache for everyone concerned. Hmm, perhaps "headache" was a poor choice of word. But it does make him a very interesting kind of monster, and quite terrifying.
That's another great point! Henry is so keen on getting what he wants and he's willing to make everyone else-Cromwell, his councilors, Cranmer- villians in order to satisfy his own desires. It's scary to think that the power hungry trait in Cromwell is in part because of Henry's insatiable desires.
As Thomas Boleyn says: we've seen such things this last two years to keep chroniclers busy for decades. Henry's ministers have to be monstrous so he can rise about it all – but that spotless image isn't really very convincing right now.
How the specter of Death looms in this chapter. Crumb continues to crush the King's enemies at home, but this is not what Henry really wants. Cardinal Pole is rendered invulnerable to Cromwell's machinations by his own stupid incompetency and the king's disappointment is palpable. Meanwhile, Bishop Gardiner (himself, largely incompetent) looms ever closer. Henry will not kill you for incompetence, but we dare not disappoint. The more Cromwell accomplishes for his king, the more his king expects from him. Lately each chapter seems better than the last, the same can be said for your posts, Simon. Cheers!
I’ve been very excited about Nonsuch week and interesting how the palace’s latter day invisibility is somehow represented in its name.
And my added interest having been a pupil at Nonsuch High School in Cheam, (located in Nonsuch Park), back in the 1960s/70s. Much play was made of the connection, with a Tudor Rose as the school badge and what we considered a rather banal motto ‘Serve God and Be Cheerful’. Little did we really appreciate, as we pounded up and down the hockey pitches, that underfoot were Henry’s hallowed hunting grounds. Nor could Henry have imagined that 800 girls would be in such close proximity. We’d be marched out to look at the place where the Palace had been but again we weren’t that impressed. I’d be all over it like a rash these days!
Yes, I was thinking of you and I had jotted down notes to do a footnote on Nonsuch itself, but did a Gregory and ran out of time. The palace is so elusive here and I think its role in the title points to that fantasy world that Henry is living in, with castles and princesses, so detached from the real world. He is in Nonsuch land.
There is nothing about this book that I do not love, despite the fact the closer to the end we get, the heavier I feel. And I feel my love of this book is greater than the love Henry had for any of wives. He states he wants to marry for love but has he really any inclination what love is? While contemplating two possible brides his statement "Now I do not know which lady to love" sounds very like a spoilt child.
I love the way as readers we live Cromwell's thoughts and because of this Mantel's Cromwell is one we sympathise with and feel for. His memories of the burning and the eel boy are haunting us because they are haunting him and the skill in which Mantel builds on these memories is magic in itself.
I can't be the only one whose wish for Cromwell is that he can retire now from service to the king and enjoy his growing family, have numerous Bellas and be content in what he has built for those he has raised.
Henry's idea of love is certainly unnerving and entitled – like Gregory he has read too many romances, but Gregory accepted the wife his father chose for him.
We are in Mantel's vice now: the horrible sinking feeling and the urge to scream and stop time and let Crumb slink away into the night.
I like that Gregory accepted Beth and I feel he knew he could grow to love her.
I genuinely felt teary looking at how little we have left to read. I think that was due to a mixture of knowing what is to come, feeling sad at this slow read coming to an end (despite being very excited about next year's ones) and thinking about all that has happened this year and how Mantel's trilogy has been a backdrop and anchor during it.
I can't quite believe it either. I'm so glad everyone decided to come along for this, it was a real experiment and I had no idea whether it would work or not. I'll be launching next year's Wolf Crawl on Friday with a lot more confidence. I hope everyone who has enjoyed it this year will recommend it to others: this just feels like the best way to read these books.
I love the jolt of recognition when a book's title is finally mentioned, like here when Cromwell finally uses the phrase "the mirror and the light" as he defends himself against the accusation that he serves the Emperor better than his king. It's telling that he's blurting it out in a desperate excess of flattery but Henry takes it to heart...
"‘What should I want with the Emperor, were he emperor of all the world? Your Majesty is the only prince. The mirror and the light of other kings.’ Henry repeats the phrase, as if cherishing it: the mirror and the light."
I also really enjoyed this description of how Cromwell perceives his role as a hybrid counsellor / administrator / babysitter to the king:
"I found him in low water, the cardinal gone who was captain of his ship: bereft of good advice, gnawed by intermittent lusts, frustrated by his advisers, hamstrung by his own laws. I filled his treasury, made his coinage sound; I packed off his old wife and got him a new one of his choosing; while I did this I soothed his temper and told him jokes."
& of what the not-entirely-self-aware Henry needs in his time of grief:
"He needs a voice pitched low, a listening ear: when he talks of how women have made him suffer, he needs someone who will not show incredulity."
Overall this felt like a week of mixed messages. Cromwell reassures himself quite convincingly that there is "reason to be cheerful": Henry calls him in even when he turns away everyone else, and "look how he and his people are augmented". On the other hand, he seems unable to hear Cranmer's warnings that "The king’s bride should be someone he knows and feels he can love", and when Richard is turned away from the king's door ("without precedent"!) Cromwell finds only "blank pages uninscribed" in his book of advice for himself...
(& bravo to Charles Brandon: "I think he has had enough of your nieces.")
Those blank pages in The Book Called Henry are unnerving. This chapter whispered bad news ahead, with Gardiner hovering in the distance, Norfolk up close. "The mirror and the light" comes from an actual letter written by Cromwell. We will get to that soon I believe.
When Cromwell recalls Henry's earlier brush with death, he thinks of the total chaos; above all Norfolk bellowing 'Me, me, me,' demanding the regency. But Cromwell's recollection of this scene ends with a similar contention, though unspoken: 'He thinks, Henry should give me the regency, give it me now. Set it down and seal it, multiple copies.' Are we meant to see the irony in this, I wonder; and does Cromwell even see it himself?
I think there's a mixture of irony and pathos. Obviously his need for the regency is a matter of survival. Without it, he's a dead man walking. That really isn't the same for Norfolk, although his machinations will also land him in the Tower eventually. So right now we've got the conflict between Cromwell's boundless ambition and his desire to survive, to retire, to live. And both require something in writing from Henry that will protect him when the king is gone.
I liked the part about Cromwell trying to spin the story of Becket. It’s one of the times I feel HM breaks the fourth wall and makes us remember that we, too, are reading a story. One that has spun and crafted the facts of a real life into a tale. This has happened multiple times through the books and I like the way it invites consideration of how we consume historical figures - the Tudors especially - who have become ‘characters’ in many ways. We also know that C’s attempt to turn Becket’s story didn’t work in the long run. Sainted, feted, remembered, he remains Henry II’s cruelly murdered nemesis centuries later. Even master politician Cromwell has failed at that one. His powers are not infallible, as we’re beginning to see.
From a seasonal perspective, we are approaching the somber end of this wonderful read as the light of day is getting shorter and shorter. And when Cromwell looks at Henry he sees less light. More than Hans, it's the King's gaze that gives Cromwell a picture of himself.
Mirror and Light really is all about memory. Cromwell turns back in his mind memories upon memories: his time with the cardinal, this Lollard burning, when he was married and his daughters were still alive. And everytime he does so, I get a little more worried. This book is like a slow boiling pot. The more we read, the more the tension rise. The higher Cromwell goes, the further he will fall.
You are right when you say it is so strange that Henry insists on a love match. I wonder why that is.
It's fascinating that there are two instances up to this point where Henry has almost died, and yet we are slowly creeping to Cromwell's death. "Nothing protects you, nothing. In the last ditch, not rank, nor kin. Nothing between you and the fire." Mantel is foreshadowing Cromwell's death in so many ways, it's astonishing.
Well put. At the Wolf Hall Weekend, the historians talked about Henry. They all agreed it was just odd that he insisted on a love match – it wasn't the norm, and it was a massive headache for everyone concerned. Hmm, perhaps "headache" was a poor choice of word. But it does make him a very interesting kind of monster, and quite terrifying.
That's another great point! Henry is so keen on getting what he wants and he's willing to make everyone else-Cromwell, his councilors, Cranmer- villians in order to satisfy his own desires. It's scary to think that the power hungry trait in Cromwell is in part because of Henry's insatiable desires.
As Thomas Boleyn says: we've seen such things this last two years to keep chroniclers busy for decades. Henry's ministers have to be monstrous so he can rise about it all – but that spotless image isn't really very convincing right now.
How the specter of Death looms in this chapter. Crumb continues to crush the King's enemies at home, but this is not what Henry really wants. Cardinal Pole is rendered invulnerable to Cromwell's machinations by his own stupid incompetency and the king's disappointment is palpable. Meanwhile, Bishop Gardiner (himself, largely incompetent) looms ever closer. Henry will not kill you for incompetence, but we dare not disappoint. The more Cromwell accomplishes for his king, the more his king expects from him. Lately each chapter seems better than the last, the same can be said for your posts, Simon. Cheers!
It's that low drumbeat of dread that is Mantel's speciality. Thanks Ian!
I’ve been very excited about Nonsuch week and interesting how the palace’s latter day invisibility is somehow represented in its name.
And my added interest having been a pupil at Nonsuch High School in Cheam, (located in Nonsuch Park), back in the 1960s/70s. Much play was made of the connection, with a Tudor Rose as the school badge and what we considered a rather banal motto ‘Serve God and Be Cheerful’. Little did we really appreciate, as we pounded up and down the hockey pitches, that underfoot were Henry’s hallowed hunting grounds. Nor could Henry have imagined that 800 girls would be in such close proximity. We’d be marched out to look at the place where the Palace had been but again we weren’t that impressed. I’d be all over it like a rash these days!
Yes, I was thinking of you and I had jotted down notes to do a footnote on Nonsuch itself, but did a Gregory and ran out of time. The palace is so elusive here and I think its role in the title points to that fantasy world that Henry is living in, with castles and princesses, so detached from the real world. He is in Nonsuch land.
Definitely and when you think it was to be nonpareil.
Is it known where it all ‘went’ after demolition? That’s a lot of bricks.
Someone needs to do some digging.
They were always digging over the site but sadly I don’t take much interest back then. Have to be online digging now!
There is nothing about this book that I do not love, despite the fact the closer to the end we get, the heavier I feel. And I feel my love of this book is greater than the love Henry had for any of wives. He states he wants to marry for love but has he really any inclination what love is? While contemplating two possible brides his statement "Now I do not know which lady to love" sounds very like a spoilt child.
I love the way as readers we live Cromwell's thoughts and because of this Mantel's Cromwell is one we sympathise with and feel for. His memories of the burning and the eel boy are haunting us because they are haunting him and the skill in which Mantel builds on these memories is magic in itself.
I can't be the only one whose wish for Cromwell is that he can retire now from service to the king and enjoy his growing family, have numerous Bellas and be content in what he has built for those he has raised.
Henry's idea of love is certainly unnerving and entitled – like Gregory he has read too many romances, but Gregory accepted the wife his father chose for him.
We are in Mantel's vice now: the horrible sinking feeling and the urge to scream and stop time and let Crumb slink away into the night.
I like that Gregory accepted Beth and I feel he knew he could grow to love her.
I genuinely felt teary looking at how little we have left to read. I think that was due to a mixture of knowing what is to come, feeling sad at this slow read coming to an end (despite being very excited about next year's ones) and thinking about all that has happened this year and how Mantel's trilogy has been a backdrop and anchor during it.
I can't quite believe it either. I'm so glad everyone decided to come along for this, it was a real experiment and I had no idea whether it would work or not. I'll be launching next year's Wolf Crawl on Friday with a lot more confidence. I hope everyone who has enjoyed it this year will recommend it to others: this just feels like the best way to read these books.
Definitely was an experiment that worked and I can imagine it will be getting a lot of recommendations 😊
I love the jolt of recognition when a book's title is finally mentioned, like here when Cromwell finally uses the phrase "the mirror and the light" as he defends himself against the accusation that he serves the Emperor better than his king. It's telling that he's blurting it out in a desperate excess of flattery but Henry takes it to heart...
"‘What should I want with the Emperor, were he emperor of all the world? Your Majesty is the only prince. The mirror and the light of other kings.’ Henry repeats the phrase, as if cherishing it: the mirror and the light."
I also really enjoyed this description of how Cromwell perceives his role as a hybrid counsellor / administrator / babysitter to the king:
"I found him in low water, the cardinal gone who was captain of his ship: bereft of good advice, gnawed by intermittent lusts, frustrated by his advisers, hamstrung by his own laws. I filled his treasury, made his coinage sound; I packed off his old wife and got him a new one of his choosing; while I did this I soothed his temper and told him jokes."
& of what the not-entirely-self-aware Henry needs in his time of grief:
"He needs a voice pitched low, a listening ear: when he talks of how women have made him suffer, he needs someone who will not show incredulity."
Overall this felt like a week of mixed messages. Cromwell reassures himself quite convincingly that there is "reason to be cheerful": Henry calls him in even when he turns away everyone else, and "look how he and his people are augmented". On the other hand, he seems unable to hear Cranmer's warnings that "The king’s bride should be someone he knows and feels he can love", and when Richard is turned away from the king's door ("without precedent"!) Cromwell finds only "blank pages uninscribed" in his book of advice for himself...
(& bravo to Charles Brandon: "I think he has had enough of your nieces.")
Those blank pages in The Book Called Henry are unnerving. This chapter whispered bad news ahead, with Gardiner hovering in the distance, Norfolk up close. "The mirror and the light" comes from an actual letter written by Cromwell. We will get to that soon I believe.
I should have guessed it was a real quote!
When Cromwell recalls Henry's earlier brush with death, he thinks of the total chaos; above all Norfolk bellowing 'Me, me, me,' demanding the regency. But Cromwell's recollection of this scene ends with a similar contention, though unspoken: 'He thinks, Henry should give me the regency, give it me now. Set it down and seal it, multiple copies.' Are we meant to see the irony in this, I wonder; and does Cromwell even see it himself?
I think there's a mixture of irony and pathos. Obviously his need for the regency is a matter of survival. Without it, he's a dead man walking. That really isn't the same for Norfolk, although his machinations will also land him in the Tower eventually. So right now we've got the conflict between Cromwell's boundless ambition and his desire to survive, to retire, to live. And both require something in writing from Henry that will protect him when the king is gone.
I liked the part about Cromwell trying to spin the story of Becket. It’s one of the times I feel HM breaks the fourth wall and makes us remember that we, too, are reading a story. One that has spun and crafted the facts of a real life into a tale. This has happened multiple times through the books and I like the way it invites consideration of how we consume historical figures - the Tudors especially - who have become ‘characters’ in many ways. We also know that C’s attempt to turn Becket’s story didn’t work in the long run. Sainted, feted, remembered, he remains Henry II’s cruelly murdered nemesis centuries later. Even master politician Cromwell has failed at that one. His powers are not infallible, as we’re beginning to see.
That painting of Christina really is masterful. Lucky escape for her.
From a seasonal perspective, we are approaching the somber end of this wonderful read as the light of day is getting shorter and shorter. And when Cromwell looks at Henry he sees less light. More than Hans, it's the King's gaze that gives Cromwell a picture of himself.
"Henry's green sleeves"? 😂 Nice one! I like how you tie the false identities (of Henry in costume) to the false attribution of the song.
Feeling smug, not gonna lie.
Robin Hood and the Peddlar: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpDe__laHTo