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Michael Carey: Life of Thomas Cromwell makes for compelling fiction

Asked about the "long run," British economist John Maynard Keynes said, "In the long run, we are all dead." Keynes lived in a 20th century democracy. If he had been born 400 years earlier in the kingdom of Henry VIII, he might have said, "In the short run, we are all dead."

The dead piled up in Henry's England. This is a fact, although novelist Hilary Mantel uses fiction to tell the story in "Bring Up the Bodies" (Henry Holt), the second volume in a planned series of three on the turbulence Henry's marriages inflicted on his countrymen during his reign (1509-1547).

Mantel, whose novels have won numerous prominent international awards, is an exceptional scholar whose polished writing is addictive. Yet her imagination is the most powerful force behind her vision of Henry's struggles with the first three of his six wives: Katherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour. Only through her imagination can we get inside their private lives.

Tudor England had neither the institutions nor the economy of a modern state. Urbanization was still in its early stages. Power was concentrated in a few hands. Superstition ruled the common folk, most of whom had never ventured far from home unless they had gone to war. Lives were cut short by disease, malnutrition, crime and political strife.

Enter a tall, powerfully built, charismatic if erratic king whose obsession with siring a male heir produced domestic and international crisis. Henry VIII was not a reflective man. Forced to examine himself, he saw a king acting in the best interests of his country. He believed, from studying English history, that absence of an heir produces unrest followed by civil war. Hilary Mantel's Henry muses: "If a king cannot have a son, if he cannot do that, it matters not much what else he can do. The victories, the spoils of victory, the just laws he makes, the famous courts he holds, these are as nothing."

Katherine of Aragon did not produce a son. Henry's separation from her meant separating his country from the Church of Rome. Anne Boleyn did not produce a son. Henry separated her body from her head after she was convicted of treason, and sexual misconduct, including incest. These charges seem manufactured or wildly exaggerated by weak-willed and malevolent witnesses. Jane Seymour did produce a son, Edward VI, who ruled six years during a regency after Henry died.

Two of Henry's daughters, Mary, through Katherine, and Elizabeth, through Anne, became queen. Elizabeth is one of the most celebrated monarchs in world history and gave her name to the Elizabethan Age. Would Henry have been proud or shocked?

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The eyes through which readers see most of "Bring Up the Bodies" are those of Thomas Cromwell, secretary to the king. Cromwell is a blacksmith's son, a former soldier of fortune who fought on the continent, then remained in Italy to learn what it takes to become a renaissance businessman. He's a self-made man who has acquired political power the only way a commoner could acquire it during the 16th century -- through loyal service to his ruler.

Cromwell has many political, economic and social responsibilities but they are subservient to one mission: ensuring the safety of the monarchy. This sometimes requires misleading the monarch, manipulating the monarch, ignoring the monarch. Fortunately for Cromwell, Henry is dependent on him, and his dependency can be exploited. Cromwell tells himself: "Remember he wants to be more than advised of his power, he wants to be told he is right. He is never in error. It is only that other people commit errors on his behalf or deceive him with false information. Henry wants to be told that he is behaving well, in the sight of God and man."

Psychologically, Mantel's Cromwell is a surprisingly modern man struggling with alienation. He serves the royals but he is not a royal. He has acquired wealth and status but knows they can disappear in an instant. He is haunted by the loss of his wife and daughters to illness and is close to no one, although he does find satisfaction in the role of mentor to his adult son and nephew.

Cromwell's detachment brings to mind Raymond Chandler's fictional private detective Philip Marlowe. Like Marlowe, Cromwell can say, "Trouble is my business."

After Anne Boleyn dies in the Tower of London, Cromwell says to a courtier: "Once you have chosen a course, you should not apologize for it. God knows, I mean nothing but good to our master the king. I am bound to obey and serve. And if you watch me closely you will see me do it."

Hilary Mantel's Thomas Cromwell, part fact, part fiction, is closely watched and leaves readers anxious to see more.

Michael Carey is an Alaska Dispatch News columnist.

The views expressed here are the writer's own and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News, which welcomes a broad range of viewpoints. To submit a piece for consideration, email commentary(at)alaskadispatch.com.

Michael Carey

Michael Carey is an occasional columnist and the former editorial page editor of the Anchorage Daily News.

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