It is always worth noting when people act out of character. Cromwell is the master of dissimulation, but he cannot hide his shock and dismay after his interview with Dorothea. He lets Riche see him cry, as he allowed George Cavendish see him at Esher.
He later calls Rafe Sadler 'a more cautious man than he will ever be.' But Sadler, in turn, acts rashly in threatening to strike Uncle Norfolk. It is something Cromwell might like to do, but it is very unwise. Both these scenes tell us a lot about Cromwell and Rafe.
Aside from Cromwell, Rafe is one of my favourite characters across the books and I love how Mantel portrays both men's flaws as well as their good points. I felt for Cromwell when Dorothea rejected him and his gifts and at his realisation he should not be saying what he was coming out his mouth but he could not stop it.
From Bea: "I cannot bear Cromwell’s pain in The Five Wounds. Which is made worse by Dorothea’s rejection of Helen’s “loving stitches”, which will have taken days and days to see."
Cromwell utterly loses his footing here with Dorothea. I've been reading with an eye to finding the downward turns for him, but that feels a bit misguided. He is never omniscient, there are many times where he slips in judgement. Here he is skewered. He says things he doesn't mean to say, his view of the past is turned upside down, and we can see his self delusion began in the first book. His excuses to not visit Wolsey in the North seemed thin even in Wolf Hall. He's been climbing and falling the whole time!
I agree, although part of me feels more generous: isn't this how we all are? We are constantly writing and re-writing our own story: justifying our actions. And things are never one thing; our motives are always multiple. So it was convenient for him to be the cardinal's man close to the king and it was the loyal thing to do. The problem is how that looked to Wolsey. It may have done Wolsey no good for Cromwell to have come north, but as the cardinal began to feel abandoned, he may have harboured resentment towards his rising protégé.
I remember now thinking much of this the first time I read *Wolf Hall*, and since then rather forgetting it. But I have always been impressed that Henry was impressed by Cromwell’s loyalty to Wolsey (or so Crumb tells himself); but then he, Cromwell, was known to be Wolsey’s man, and it must have been a surprise to everyone that Henry so to speak hired him, however good a clerk he was. The layers, the layers….
Henry was impressed by Cromwell's loyalty. And his readiness to tell the king the truth: you cannot afford wars, but I can make you rich! But it raises the question: if loyalty to Wolsey turned out to be a good career move, did Wolsey see it less as loyalty, and more as betrayal?
My thought, back in the day, was that Crumb should have hastened oop north to seek Wolsey’s advice or pardon or at least to give the appearance of doing something of the sort, if only to square the circle. It has been a harrowing week.
Absolutely, all of this. You find all the nuance. I'm seeing in this read that flexibility in the narration. It like our own stories can be interpreted so many ways, and a misstep here may be the correct step there.
Call-Me is terrified of Cromwell. He'd like to be him, but doesn't have the mettle. I've just looked up the meaning of gralloch and I have a sudden need to sit down.
One of my favorite things about this book is how it opens up beyond the “Six Wives (especially Anne Boleyn)” story - I didn’t know anything about the Pilgrimage of Grace or the logistics of dissolving the monasteries. Fascinating! And I love your point about “Oh worse was it never” as the eternal refrain of populist complaint.
Yes, I'm afraid I planned a full footnote on the Pilgrimage but a la Gregory I ran out of time. Oh well, it will still be with us next week. Worse was it never!
This week was the first time that Norfolk really scared me. I understand Cromwell, that he doesn't want him dead, he doesn't want that on his conscience too. But there should be at least one ocean between the two. It is abundantly clear that Norfolk, no matter how else he may act, is his bitter enemy. I found that to be very clear to me this week. As soon as Cromwell shows signs of weakness, Norfolk will be extremely dangerous for him. I've kind of laughed at Norfolk up until now.
Rafe: one of my favorites in the books.
Also think that he should have visited Wolsey at the end, because of the bond between the two, but also to warn him. That he shouldn't do rash things like turning to anyone other than Henry. That was what Wolsey did in his desperation at the end. Things that Cromwell couldn't write well in letters without endangering himself- I understand that - but if he had visited him he would have been able to warn Wolsey.
I don't think that Wolsey thought that Cromwell had betrayed him, but that someone else gave Dorothea this idea (because, was Dorothea even around Wolsey at the time? Would Wolsey not kept his daughter away from him to protect her, at some safer place?). Who would tell Dorothea something like that. My bet would be: Gardiner.
"At this signal, the world turns upside down." See this performance by Dick Gaughan of the Sidney Carter song [EDIT: I remembered it's by Leon Rosselson, not Carter], distilled from The True Leveller's Standard Advanced: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWzzvnPOyTM
(Carter, a Quaker, also wrote the song 'Sing John Ball'.)
And, ouch, I cried when he cried outside Dorothea's room. Right in the heart.
I was wondering how I'd managed to get behind again so soon, but now I've looked back at it I suspect I was avoiding thinking about this chapter. Cromwell’s encounter with Dorothea is so devastating, as is his terrible realisation that "you can persuade the living to think again, but you cannot remake your reputation with the dead". (Although I did quite enjoy how she managed to unsettle the famously composed Cromwell into accidentally proposing to her, even before making her revelations about Wolsey’s suspicions!)
Henry’s reaction to the rebels' demands is equally shocking in a different direction - high favour from the king, but expressed through words that could be considered treason if said by other men, and do nothing to dispel the idea that Cromwell’s hold on the king is too strong: "And if I say Cromwell’s heirs are to follow me and rule England, by God they will do it, or I will come out of my grave and want to know why."
I really enjoyed your notes on the mysterious trinity of 'Crum and Cram and Cramuel', and Christophe's role as another, darker, alliterative mirror-self. (This idea fits really well with his behaviour right at the end - yes, I finally cracked and read ahead...)
The tone of these chapters is so foreboding. Before Cromwell was upbeat, even when under great risk, but now he is so burdened with the deaths, he mentioned again the memories of having to leave Weston's rooms at the town, holding Boleyn and not even risking to see poor little Mark. He has used power abominably. The scene with Dorothea was the worst, they are both in such pain. I don't think Woolsey did think poorly of him, or blame him for his fall. He gave him the Turquoise Ring, I didn't look it up but I think it had a note with it. But I think he is vulnerable to believing her because of all the deaths he has brought about 'in revenge for Woolsey, in his love for Woolsey'--who is he if he wasn't Woolsey's man, he is like all the rest of them. Woolsey always seemed his avenue to distance what he was doing for the king, from being something he as doing for himself.
The scene with Dorothea, and his reaction to it, was one of the most heartbreaking moments of the whole trilogy for me. Cromwell’s own idea of his loyalty and love towards Wolsey is his moral refuge and justification, and without that he must feel so lost and lonely and guilty... It feels like the beginning of the end, a wound impossible to heal completely. Furthermore, it’s never good to show your frailty to Wriothesley, who seems to always need reassurance of Cromwell’s strength.
[FOOTNOTE]
It is always worth noting when people act out of character. Cromwell is the master of dissimulation, but he cannot hide his shock and dismay after his interview with Dorothea. He lets Riche see him cry, as he allowed George Cavendish see him at Esher.
He later calls Rafe Sadler 'a more cautious man than he will ever be.' But Sadler, in turn, acts rashly in threatening to strike Uncle Norfolk. It is something Cromwell might like to do, but it is very unwise. Both these scenes tell us a lot about Cromwell and Rafe.
Aside from Cromwell, Rafe is one of my favourite characters across the books and I love how Mantel portrays both men's flaws as well as their good points. I felt for Cromwell when Dorothea rejected him and his gifts and at his realisation he should not be saying what he was coming out his mouth but he could not stop it.
From Bea: "I cannot bear Cromwell’s pain in The Five Wounds. Which is made worse by Dorothea’s rejection of Helen’s “loving stitches”, which will have taken days and days to see."
'I do not believe I shall cry again,' he says. 'I am done with tears.'
Cromwell utterly loses his footing here with Dorothea. I've been reading with an eye to finding the downward turns for him, but that feels a bit misguided. He is never omniscient, there are many times where he slips in judgement. Here he is skewered. He says things he doesn't mean to say, his view of the past is turned upside down, and we can see his self delusion began in the first book. His excuses to not visit Wolsey in the North seemed thin even in Wolf Hall. He's been climbing and falling the whole time!
I agree, although part of me feels more generous: isn't this how we all are? We are constantly writing and re-writing our own story: justifying our actions. And things are never one thing; our motives are always multiple. So it was convenient for him to be the cardinal's man close to the king and it was the loyal thing to do. The problem is how that looked to Wolsey. It may have done Wolsey no good for Cromwell to have come north, but as the cardinal began to feel abandoned, he may have harboured resentment towards his rising protégé.
I remember now thinking much of this the first time I read *Wolf Hall*, and since then rather forgetting it. But I have always been impressed that Henry was impressed by Cromwell’s loyalty to Wolsey (or so Crumb tells himself); but then he, Cromwell, was known to be Wolsey’s man, and it must have been a surprise to everyone that Henry so to speak hired him, however good a clerk he was. The layers, the layers….
Henry was impressed by Cromwell's loyalty. And his readiness to tell the king the truth: you cannot afford wars, but I can make you rich! But it raises the question: if loyalty to Wolsey turned out to be a good career move, did Wolsey see it less as loyalty, and more as betrayal?
My thought, back in the day, was that Crumb should have hastened oop north to seek Wolsey’s advice or pardon or at least to give the appearance of doing something of the sort, if only to square the circle. It has been a harrowing week.
Absolutely, all of this. You find all the nuance. I'm seeing in this read that flexibility in the narration. It like our own stories can be interpreted so many ways, and a misstep here may be the correct step there.
Yes, well put. You make me recall Cromwell's hesitancy to leave London. He had a stated motive––to help the Cardinal. But he helped himself as well.
Everyone who is not Henry is a "petty king," including Cromwell.
I love the moment when Cromwell answers "Who hasn't?" to Norfolk's question of have you killed a man. And that makes Call-me "stiffen in alarm."
Finally, next time i have occasion to threaten someone, I'm going to copy Norfolk and say "I'll gralloch you."
Call-Me is terrified of Cromwell. He'd like to be him, but doesn't have the mettle. I've just looked up the meaning of gralloch and I have a sudden need to sit down.
One of my favorite things about this book is how it opens up beyond the “Six Wives (especially Anne Boleyn)” story - I didn’t know anything about the Pilgrimage of Grace or the logistics of dissolving the monasteries. Fascinating! And I love your point about “Oh worse was it never” as the eternal refrain of populist complaint.
Yes, I'm afraid I planned a full footnote on the Pilgrimage but a la Gregory I ran out of time. Oh well, it will still be with us next week. Worse was it never!
This week was the first time that Norfolk really scared me. I understand Cromwell, that he doesn't want him dead, he doesn't want that on his conscience too. But there should be at least one ocean between the two. It is abundantly clear that Norfolk, no matter how else he may act, is his bitter enemy. I found that to be very clear to me this week. As soon as Cromwell shows signs of weakness, Norfolk will be extremely dangerous for him. I've kind of laughed at Norfolk up until now.
Rafe: one of my favorites in the books.
Also think that he should have visited Wolsey at the end, because of the bond between the two, but also to warn him. That he shouldn't do rash things like turning to anyone other than Henry. That was what Wolsey did in his desperation at the end. Things that Cromwell couldn't write well in letters without endangering himself- I understand that - but if he had visited him he would have been able to warn Wolsey.
I don't think that Wolsey thought that Cromwell had betrayed him, but that someone else gave Dorothea this idea (because, was Dorothea even around Wolsey at the time? Would Wolsey not kept his daughter away from him to protect her, at some safer place?). Who would tell Dorothea something like that. My bet would be: Gardiner.
That dastardly Gardiner!
I'm afraid he'll be back soon 😬. I'm sure Gardiner has already packed his bags in France (if he's unpacked them at all).
SUCH A GOOD CHAPTER, my God!
"At this signal, the world turns upside down." See this performance by Dick Gaughan of the Sidney Carter song [EDIT: I remembered it's by Leon Rosselson, not Carter], distilled from The True Leveller's Standard Advanced: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWzzvnPOyTM
(Carter, a Quaker, also wrote the song 'Sing John Ball'.)
And, ouch, I cried when he cried outside Dorothea's room. Right in the heart.
Ack, I did want to do a whole thing on the world turned upside down. Maybe I'll squeeze something in this week.
So many rabbit-holes, so little time!
And I don't even have Gregory's excuse of having to go hunting with the Howards.
Prince Gregory...
I was wondering how I'd managed to get behind again so soon, but now I've looked back at it I suspect I was avoiding thinking about this chapter. Cromwell’s encounter with Dorothea is so devastating, as is his terrible realisation that "you can persuade the living to think again, but you cannot remake your reputation with the dead". (Although I did quite enjoy how she managed to unsettle the famously composed Cromwell into accidentally proposing to her, even before making her revelations about Wolsey’s suspicions!)
Henry’s reaction to the rebels' demands is equally shocking in a different direction - high favour from the king, but expressed through words that could be considered treason if said by other men, and do nothing to dispel the idea that Cromwell’s hold on the king is too strong: "And if I say Cromwell’s heirs are to follow me and rule England, by God they will do it, or I will come out of my grave and want to know why."
I really enjoyed your notes on the mysterious trinity of 'Crum and Cram and Cramuel', and Christophe's role as another, darker, alliterative mirror-self. (This idea fits really well with his behaviour right at the end - yes, I finally cracked and read ahead...)
I was thinking of the end when I wrote this, but much more on that anon!
P.S. That Caravaggio IS my favourite Caravaggio of all time. Stone-cold genius
The tone of these chapters is so foreboding. Before Cromwell was upbeat, even when under great risk, but now he is so burdened with the deaths, he mentioned again the memories of having to leave Weston's rooms at the town, holding Boleyn and not even risking to see poor little Mark. He has used power abominably. The scene with Dorothea was the worst, they are both in such pain. I don't think Woolsey did think poorly of him, or blame him for his fall. He gave him the Turquoise Ring, I didn't look it up but I think it had a note with it. But I think he is vulnerable to believing her because of all the deaths he has brought about 'in revenge for Woolsey, in his love for Woolsey'--who is he if he wasn't Woolsey's man, he is like all the rest of them. Woolsey always seemed his avenue to distance what he was doing for the king, from being something he as doing for himself.
The scene with Dorothea, and his reaction to it, was one of the most heartbreaking moments of the whole trilogy for me. Cromwell’s own idea of his loyalty and love towards Wolsey is his moral refuge and justification, and without that he must feel so lost and lonely and guilty... It feels like the beginning of the end, a wound impossible to heal completely. Furthermore, it’s never good to show your frailty to Wriothesley, who seems to always need reassurance of Cromwell’s strength.