Great finale to the trilogy. Enough people have given in depth reviews so no need to add one. I just want to say my favourite character is Christophe. ( )

After reading the first two volumes of the trilogy, I felt rather obliged to follow through with this, the third. It found it a challenging and rather unpleasant read, larded with the violence and misogyny of the times. Mantel manages to create a rather high level of suspense that propels the story towards the end, even though we know how Cromwell's story plays out. If Mantel accurately represents Cromwell's childhood, it is at heart a story of a man deeply damaged by abuse who rescues some (largely young men who seem to remind him of himself) while resolutely facilitating the demise of many others. ( )

This trilogy is a masterwork of historical fiction. Mantel's ability to make Cromwell into a vivid, plausible, and fascinating character is unsurpassed in my reading. This is the least of the three, but it still very very good. ( )

I have owned a hardback copy of [b:The Mirror & the Light|29564789|The Mirror & the Light (Thomas Cromwell, #3)|Hilary Mantel|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1582067092l/29564789._SY75_.jpg|18853327] since it was first published, but have been using it as a laptop stand for working at home because it's just the right size. As I need the laptop stand, I bought a paperback copy from a charity shop to actually read. It has been ten years since I read the first two books in the Thomas Cromwell trilogy, yet I had no problem slipping back into the Tudor world that Mantel evokes with such extraordinary vividness. In this final book, the spectre of Henry turning against Cromwell looms, creating a tense and ominous atmosphere. The king's caprices and the political machinations around him become more febrile. Amid this sense of fragility, Cromwell and his allies are also conscious that by translating the bible into English they are unleashing an irreversible change.

Hilary Mantel stands among the absolute best historical novelists, with Patrick O'Brian and Amitav Ghosh. Her writing is full of the kind of detail, insight, and texture that transports the reader into the past. Each of her characters has a remarkably distinct and convincing voice. Her Cromwell is a fascinating creation; the trilogy reads as a highly plausible fictionalised biography. It is magnificent to the very end. In [b:The Mirror & the Light|29564789|The Mirror & the Light (Thomas Cromwell, #3)|Hilary Mantel|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1582067092l/29564789._SY75_.jpg|18853327], I found Jane Seymour and Mary Tudor particularly memorable. Both of them, Cromwell, and everyone else orbits carefully around Henry, the locus of political power. The king is ageing, losing his health, and obsessed with having a son to inherit his throne. Cromwell too considers his own legacy, while knowing that his life depends on Henry's whims:

We councillors think we are men of vision and learning, we gravely delineate our position, set forth our plans and argue our case far into the night. Then some little girl sweeps through and upsets the candle and sets fire to our sleeve; leaves us slapping ourselves like madmen, trying to save our skin. It rankles with me, that some sneak thief like Riche should best me; that a fool like Polo should hole my boat, and dolt like Lisle should drown me. Perhaps some will say I have died for the gospel, as More died for the Pope. But most will think me a martyr for nothing, except the great cause of getting on in life.

There isn't much I can say about a novel of this calibre, except that I found it rich and heady to read. The author's note at the end reminded of something that I'd forgotten (if I ever knew) about Thomas Cromwell's historical legacy: Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell was his direct descendant. ( )

It's hard to read this last chapter in Thomas Crowell's life because we know how it ends. We're maybe interested in what leads Henry to turn on him but really, does it matter? The first two books of this series, both Booker winners, capture our imagination as the build a world around a man who's largely hated by historians. We're learning so much all the time. Then he's dead and how he got there isn't so enthralling. Despite very good sales and good reviews, in the end The Mirror & The Light was only long listed for the Booker.

We read that publication was delated by several years purportedly because Hilary Mantel was having trouble finishing it. Rumors about about the causes for the delay, but in any case, it is her last novel, released in the last years of her life. While intimations of the author's mortality might add some depth to Cromwell as he looks Henry in the eye for the last time, but it also, perhaps, accounts for the attenuation I felt as a I read. Everything is slipping away. ( )

These books were all wonderful but they left me emotionally drained and pretty sad. Poor Cromwell! ( )

Let's get the negative out of the way, because it does stand in the way of being absorbed and involved. This book is heavy. You will drop it. It will slide off your knee. It is not something you can forget about as you lug it about with you. I would have preferred it to be produced in two, if not three parts.

But then. The subject matter is heavy. Here is a man, Thomas Cromwell, whom King Henry trusts with every aspect of his life and government. It's well known that it doesn't pay to cross either man. The story is told, as ever, from wherever Cromwell happens to be: stateroom , his home, his bed. It's rich in detail which position it in its point in history: its sights, costumes, smells, manners. I veered between finding such detail stimulating and illuminating; and thinking it almost self-indulgent on Mantel's part, that the book could have benefited from an editor with some courage and a red pencil.

Nevertheless, this denseness, this enormous cast of characters, some of whom merely have walk-on parts give the tale its richness. We all know the story. We all know what happens to Henry's queens. We all know what happens to Thomas Cromwell. And still we want to turn the page. This is because each character is brought to life, with all his or her failings and strengths. We begin to understand the Machiavellian lengths that Cromwell and others were forced to go to when seeking to keep the various factions of the church, the state, the king himself, foreign royal houses and foreign diplomats on side. Always with the threat that today's favourite will be out of favour tomorrow and pay the price by being put to death.

It took me several hundred pages to get used to this rich diet. I suspect I may have missed a great deal, and that I should read it once more. But I may wait until someone has bought me a lectern. ( )

I found this book long and more than a little rambling. The descriptions in it are quite beautiful and the final chapters are mesmerizing and tie up the many elements of the story.

Once again Mantel keeps us laser-focussed on Thomas Cromwell at home, at the office, taking confessions at the Tower, and keeping an eye on the King’s daughters.

The story also shows us — and pretty directly — how awful the monarchy could to be to its managers, the bureaucrats who were creating institutions on the fly as it were when Henry VIII made the fateful decision to reject the Pope as head of the church.

Henry thought he hadn’t deviated from Catholic religion even as the Lutherans changed the ground rules.

But for Wolsey and Thomas Cromwell who followed him trying to square the King’s libido with his obsession making a male heir, changing relationships between the states of Europe, the rapid changes owing to the discovery of the New World, the invention of moveable type, the growing force of German nationalism, managing the ship of state became a game of (mostly) snakes and (few) ladders.

Henry VIII declared the Divine Right of kings to rule at a time when controlling the message was growing more difficult by the day.

It was a stillborn concept. ( )

Excellent. I did not find this third book as challenging to read as the first one; perhaps because I was ready for the narrative style, perhaps because I've matured as a reader, likely a bit of both. The size is daunting: twice the length of typical novels at 875 pages (plus a few pages of what happened to them later? historical notes), but it just pulled me a long. Some books you push through, knowing you'll get used to it, or it will get better, or you will be better for having read it. This one compelled me to keep reading. It even crept into my sleep and I would dream I was reading it. I love how the overall keel of the book is so steady, so sure. You know how it will end (if you have any knowledge of Tudor history) but it never races towards the end, it never bogs down in historical explanations or descriptions. Never drags it feet. It just keeps moving forward at that steady, even pace. There is great witty dialogue interspersed -- or perhaps more accurately a line or two every so often. The characters of Cromwell's entourage are likable. Even and especially Cromwell is a likable character, which is excellent because most of the historical fiction for that time period casts him as the bad guy. Henry is characterized so well, just as the king should be in a way to admire and frustrate. I appreciated the days in the Tower, too, and Cromwell's reflections on his life.

So much more to admire: the way the narrative sets the minor characters up for their future events, how Cromwell's past visits, follows, and speaks to him through memories, ghosts, and reflections. The plot steps and how it moves forward subtly but effectively to keep the story moving ahead. And the motifs of mirror and light, how th references flit in and out of the story without contrivance.

Even if you've not read the first two in the series, you can enjoy this one. If you like Tudor history and literary historical fiction. Just be ready for sore hands from holding such a thick heavy book. ( )

And so, the tapestry is done. It moves and shines, almost coming alive.
This is a brilliant conclusion to a trilogy that made me fall in love with historical fiction all over again (and probably made me more demanding).
I love the writing. I loved the way the novel moved between past and present.
The amount of research that Hilary Mantel must have put in is staggering.
I loved how fact and fiction blended together, making the characters and 16th century England leap off the page, while you, the reader, find yourself thinking "now I know what REALLY happened". That illusion only begins to dispel once you are done with the book... and you long to go back in. ( )

I hit a bit of Cromwell fatigue with this one. ( )

I saved this on my shelf until I could absolutely dedicate a chunk of time to it. In doing so, I was also afraid that I was raising my expectations too high. But I shouldn't have been because this was exquisite.

My favourite sections were any scene where the characters were in a room and just talked. These were not even pivotal scenes where perhaps history changed in one conversation, but almost daily chats of almost no import. There were heaps of these but I greedily still want more.

It was also extremely funny at times, with so many moments where it reminded me incongruously but fittingly of Veep. At over 800 pages, I could have read 800 more. The inevitability of history is somehow made new and fresh without being sensationalist. I can't wait to reread this series in the future. ( )

A magnificent achievement. ( )

Following Anne Boleyn’s beheading in May 1536, chief advisor Thomas Cromwell’s star has never shone brighter in his royal master’s eyes. But Henry VIII, as Cromwell knows better than anyone, is nothing if not changeable, usually for the wrong reasons and in disastrous ways. Not that His Majesty lacks intelligence, learning, or shrewdness.

Rather, his childish temper and make-the-earth-stand-still behavior when he expresses a desire threaten to undo good governance or prevent it altogether. So though the king has just gotten rid of an unwanted wife and married Jane Seymour, who promises to be more pliable than her predecessor, if not more fertile, other troubles emerge immediately.

Financial and religious grievances spark a popular rebellion in the northern shires. France, Spain, and the Holy Roman Emperor trade phrases of amity; even a temporary truce among these rivals could leave one or more free to invade England. Henry’s daughter Mary, fiercely loyal to her late Spanish mother, is a rallying point for foreign and domestic enemies seeking to destroy Henry’s recently instituted control over the English church and return primacy to Rome. And though the king is happy with his new bride, she has always been sickly.

But The Mirror & the Light, the third, triumphant volume in the Cromwell trilogy, involves far more than a throne in peril. The history, politics, and backstabbing would provide a feast for any historical novelist, and indeed, many have written about these events. Mantel’s sense of which details matter or her gift for dramatic portrayal set her apart, but there’s more.

Cromwell is what a later generation would have called a master psychologist and deep thinker who understands how to protect Henry from himself, and so the councillor’s maneuverings make a fascinating, tension-filled narrative. Cromwell institutes reforms, keeps the king from imploding, and protects the royal reputation at home and abroad, all while convincing Henry that His Majesty has done everything himself.

Cromwell’s singular success derives partly from a concept extraordinary for the time: Offer a rival a reward to do what you want, and you need not hit him or her over the head to show who’s in charge. Fancy that. Cromwell also has a far-sighted vision in which a wise, forbearing monarch, aided by experts chosen for their ability rather than lineage, will govern the nation without having to depend on an uneasy coalition of noblemen who itch to occupy the throne. You can see why the king’s councillor collects enemies.

You can also see how Mantel has thought deeply about power, its use and abuse, and cast the king-councillor relationship as a matter of preserving England. As my favorite novel-writing guru likes to say, your protagonist must have private stakes at risk (what happens to him or her) and, even more importantly, public stakes affecting the world at large (which is why we care). Here, Henry’s and Cromwell’s lives and interests are the private stakes, whereas the public stakes involve a philosophy of life and government essential to the modern age—and, if you will, progress from medieval mayhem.

You can hardly get more compelling than that. Yet Mantel doesn’t play favorites or grant Cromwell the earnestness that mars so many novels about progressive figures. He remains a man of his time, perfectly willing to deploy the executioner’s ax or the power to seize assets, and if he can’t influence Henry’s more odious whims, he bows to expediency and fulfills them to the letter.

Further, this erstwhile blacksmith’s son from Putney lives up to his age (or any other) by allowing ever-increasing power to seduce him, much as he tries to keep himself in check. In a brilliant stroke, Mantel shows how helpless Cromwell felt as a boy, abused by his violent father, learning early to live by his wits. Now, the higher he rises, the more he thinks and speaks about his origins. In a sense, he’s still that struggling, mistrustful, hard-edged boy.

Then, of course, there’s the justifiably famous Mantel prose, which creates authority, mood, and feeling as well as descriptive beauty.

Readers of the previous two volumes may be pleased to hear that the author has taken greater care to identify the ubiquitous “he” that refers throughout to her protagonist. Occasionally, you hit bumps, most notably when Cromwell reminisces to himself, but you can’t stay lost for long. If you count pages, The Mirror & the Light is a long book, but the only trouble I had was making it last. This is one of the best novels I’ve ever read. ( )

It pays to read till the end. There isn't much action in this long book, and there are a lot of flashbacks as Hilary Mantel filled readers in on Thomas Cromwell's childhood and youth, and key events leading up to the present. The plot was at times part espionage with Thomas Cromwell placing his informers all over England, and part comedy with all the fake news floating around. Nevertheless, the finale more than made up for the initial plodding pace. Most of us must have thought "oh oh" when Henry started making ominous comments about Cromwell not helping him (to extricate himself from his marriage to Anne). I can't help feeling pity for Cromwell, especially when he sought mercy from Henry. The tears just couldn't stop flowing. ( )

Absolutely loved book 1 & 2, but I was bored out of my mind after the execution scene - absolutely brilliant by the way. Dropped out of the book at page 50. Tedious, self-absorbed writing.

Should I've pressed on? I doubt it. If you can't sell 883 pages to a fan in the first 6%, you've probably dropped the ball for the remaining 94% as well. Crude metrics, I know, but my time on this planet is limited.

More reviews on Weighing A Pig Doesn't Fatten It ( )

It does not get much better than Mantel for historical fiction. She evokes the time and zeitgeist of the era of Henry VIII. In this, the third volume, Mantel slowly presents hairline fractures in Cromwell's vulnerability -- until it cascades to his downfall. I slowed my reading to avoid what we all know is the outcome. Mantel's rendition depicts Cromwell as building the foundation not only of modern England, but of England the welfare state -- monies for the disadvantaged; modern navy, office holders supersede birthed nobility. As other reviews have pointed out, Cromwell is here ruthless when necessary in serving Henry, but not a bully. The women of the time in this volume trade wits with Cromwell in spite of his power. In the same scene, Mantel wonderfully depicts Cromwell's commitment to change while presenting his eventual downfall even as Bess Darrell goes toe-to-toe with him: "Too much asa been said and done in England. The king cannot resist change even if he would. Let me live another year or two, and I will make sure what we have done can never be undone, not by any power on earth. And even if Henry does turn, I will not turn. I will make good my cause in my own person. I am not too old to take a sword in my hand."
"You would take arms against Henry?" She (Darrell) seems entertained more than shocked.
"I did not say that."
She looks down at her hands, wearing Wyatt's ring. "Oh, I think you did." ( )

Masterly writing, totally controlled style, intense meditation on power and tyranny and what England was, but did it have to be so bloody long? I suppose that's kind of the immersive point, but wow, that was long. ( )

I couldn't get more than 10% in. It was doing nothing for me and I lost interest.

Third in Hilary Mantel’s brilliant series on the life of Thomas Cromwell and the court of Henry VIII. This book portrays Cromwell’s slow climb to the height of his powers and his precipitous fall, leading to his ultimate fate. Cromwell loses some of his more admirable traits that were in evidence in the first two volumes. He gains power and influence, and his hubris allows him to ignore warning signs.

Mantel is skilled in both character and plot development. Mantel drops subtle hints that the reader will pick up on, but Cromwell glosses over. Her writing is superb. I felt totally immersed in the period. The language rings true. The dialogue is especially well-developed. It seems like we are “in the room” with the speakers, which is particularly effective in audio format. Reader Ben Miles does a masterful job of voicing the characters, switching back and forth among them during the same conversation. It is truly an impressive job and added to my enjoyment.

If I have to nitpick, it seems like there is a bit of padding in the form of flashbacks, but it does serve a purpose. It enables this volume to be read as a standalone, catching the reader up on key elements covered in the previous two books of the trilogy. The ending packs a punch. The entire series is outstanding.
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Wow, is this depressing. I could see trump in every action of Henry VIII. This is all he wants out of life, to be as powerful as a king, and I guess we'll see within the next 2 years if people agree with him. ( )

A quite astonishing achievement. ( )

Jesus said, “for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.

How is it that I felt so sorry for Cromwell. He had done it to others; he, Cromwell, knew Henry’s MO was betrayal. But as I neared the end of this third and final installment in Cromwell’s story, I began to feel my chest tighten, as if I were the one headed to the Tower, as if Henry were coming for me.

Hilary Mantel is a consummate storyteller. She makes you feel these times, when the poor are desolate and to be rich and landed is to be in constant danger of running afoul of someone whose ambition exceeds your own. I suppose being a tavern owner might be safe and comfortable, but few occupations would have exempted you from either the deprivations or the intrigues. No one thrives, they only survive.

What makes Cromwell interesting is the way he embraces the dichotomy within himself. He does what can only be thought of as immoral acts, but he is a moral man. He takes his honor more seriously than the “gentlemen” he is deemed inferior to. He keeps his word, he cares for others, sometimes to his own detriment.

That's the point of a promise, he thinks. It wouldn't have any value, if you could see what it would cost you when you made it.

He operates in a world in which he values friendship, while most do not. He is no fool, he sees the dangers, but as his position rises, so his pride augments as well, and he loses his edge, his wariness, his awareness--and he loses his inner warning voice, Wolsey leaves him. He becomes more like Wyatt.

Wyatt thinks himself shrewd, but he does not grasp what friendship is, as the world goes now. Friendship swears it will stand and never alter, but when the weather changes men change their coat. Not every man has a price in money; some will betray you for a kind word from a great man, others will forswear your company because they see you limp, or lose your footing, or hesitate once in a while.

This is history, and Henry VIII’s story is so well known, that if you do not know the ending going in, it is not the fault of the historians or film makers. That detracts not a whit from the beauty or interest of this novel. If you like your history personal and realistic, if you wonder what roams through the heads of distant people, you cannot do any better than this series of books. God help me, I even felt I understood Henry VIII.

If Henry is the mirror, he is the pale actor who sheds no lustre of his own, but spins in a reflected light. If the light moves he is gone.

It is sad to know that he, Cromwell, is indeed gone, recommitted to the past in which he belongs, brought forward into the light for only a moment so that we can walk with him in a world we would have been afraid to have paced in reality.
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I didn't want this book to end, I know how it ends, but saying farewell to Cromwell was more poignant than I expected. The Tudors is an era I have read a good amount on so I'm familiar with the history, what Hilary Mantell does so beautifully is breathe live into those who are long gone.

The novel covers the period between the death of Anne Boleyn up to Cromwells own execution. Despite knowing the events that led up to it, the story is so well crafted that from Cromwells perspective that when his arrest eventually happens it is as much a shock for the reader as for the man himself.

It is simply one of the best historical novel series for this era. ( )

The only fault I have with the whole series is the use of pronouns. A group of men talking, and there are no quotations and only 'he said'. I really had to pay attention to the context and how things were said in order to figure out who was speaking.
I loved that Cromwell is portrayed more sympathetically than is usual. I don't know the truth of the matter - people writing for history tend to color the accounts with their personal feelings - but I would like to believe he was as honorable as he seems. ( )