Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall Novels, Historical Fiction and 'Serious' History

I've got to admit, it took me a while to get into Hilary Mantel's Wolf Hall novels, which focus on the political career and personal life of Henry VIII's key advisor Thomas Cromwell. The first time I read a few pages and couldn't continue - I just couldn't get into Mantel's style of storytelling and the text just didn't flow in my brain as I was always used to it doing with other fiction books. A few years later, I decided to try again, and polished off both Wolf Hall and Bring Up The Bodies in just three weeks, hardly able to put them down, even reading one-handed, while stirring dinner. Once I eventually clicked with Hilary Mantel's style I found I loved it. I loved the way she described her characters as three-dimensional people and offered up their flaws as well as talents. I loved the depiction of Tudor England - the gossiping, the way relationships were conducted in and out of the royal court and anecdotes of lesser-known individuals that were included. I can't say I agree with the way Thomas Cromwell and Cardinal Wolsey are portrayed - but Mantel has cleverly used this fictional approach to challenge our understanding of these real historical people. Cromwell and Wolsey, among others, have deliberately been flipped 180 degrees from their traditional reputations as greedy, self-serving advisors to sensitive, caring souls with regrets and complicated backstories.

Just a note here - I'm talking about the original Wolf Hall novels and not the TV series of the same name. I've seen Season One of the series and there are a number of scenes and references left out of it that are in the books, not to mention that the series is an interpretation of Mantel's interpretation of the period, so for me its meaning becomes more diluted. In the books though, you find some real hidden gems of sixteenth-century London that you don't often find in the history books. For example, under the main narrative of Wolf Hall, we see the imprisonment and execution of Thomas Bilney, a scholar who was burned for heresy; the gift of Patch, Wolsey's fool, given by the cardinal to Henry VIII near the time of his fall and the death of Joan Boughton for her religious beliefs. How can we say that the novels are of no use historically then, when they have been carefully-researched to contain not only the main timeline of Henry VIII's reign but also real and little-known events and characters like these? Tudor history doesn't stop and end with the monarchs - millions of residents at all levels of society were affected by their rule and lived complex lives in the undercurrent of national affairs. 

Fiction can also be useful in setting the scene. Fictional depictions of historical time periods are usually highly evocative and descriptive. It can be difficult for us to imagine a world without electricity, phones and even a co-ordinated postal system, but read a good historical novel and you're gazing out over a foggy Thames, with the odd rippled reflection of torchlight catching along the water's surface. Late-night treks across London on urgent business, wives petitioning on behalf of their imprisoned husbands, and lawyers agonising over the wording of legal documents - these were all individual actions that lead to bigger and more famous events. Can you imagine what it would have been like to have dinner with a Tudor politician? Read about shadows dancing across candlelit walls lined with tapestries, and the scent of freshly-roasted poultry coming from the kitchens, and now you can. Hilary Mantel's novels are particularly rich in imagery, just like the works of C.J. Sansom and Kate Innes, who I also love. Historical fiction, if it's done well, can act as a backdrop to the period as you find out more about it through primary sources and non-fiction books, particularly if you're new to the period. 

Finally, an argument I've made in another post about historical-based movies: a good book can inspire someone who might not consider themselves a history fan to take on research of their own. I became interested in writing history through reading Jean Plaidy novels when I was a young teen. Yes, it's fiction. Yes, character portrayal is purely an interpretation by the author and not presented as fact - after all, none of us ever met Thomas Cromwell or Mary Boleyn. But the Wolf Hall novels, along with other historical fiction, offer new approaches which can be considered critically and tested alongside evidence for those who want to pursue it further. They encourage seeing the age in different ways and examining possible motives. Through storytelling and imagery, they can also act as a compass for the reader, to help set the tone for the period, potentially triggering new research and a wider awareness of context and place. And it is also refreshing to see, in some cases, care taken to include often forgotten, real characters and names of the period that can be seen in sixteenth century chronicles and documents. If you're concerned about whether the events, people and places within a novel are real, you can approach reading it with a curious cautiousness. But you definitely might learn something from it, too. 

You might also like: The Return of Medieval Fashion, The Technicolour Medieval World and The Errant Hours by Kate Innes.

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