The Consciousness of Thomas Cromwell

In Wolf Hall Hilary Mantel pulls off a variant of the third person narrative voice that is innovative, distinct, and likely difficult to replicate.  Her third person subjective voice occasionally crosses over into second person, but that isn't the really interesting aspect of her voice.  Most interesting is the way in which the limited third person is made to emulate a first person narrative while not introducing the paradoxes of a first person narrator delving into thought, history, and background of the people around him.  There are two interesting aspects to this narrative voice--the main character is never named by the narrator:

from Wolf Hall
Hilary Mantel

"So now get up."

Felled, dazed, silent, he has fallen; knocked full length on the cobbles of the yard. His head turns sideways; his eyes are turned toward the gate, as if someone might arrive to hlep him out. One blow, porperly placed, could kill him now. . . .

Inch by inch. Inch by inch forward. Never mind if he calls you an eel or a worm or a snake. Head down, don't provoke him. His nose is clotted with blood and he has to open his mouth to breathe. His father's momentary distraction at the loss of his good book allows him the leisure to vomit.

So, in these two paragraphs from the first page we're introduced to the protagonist and to the effect of the novel. The narrative voice never mentions the name Thomas Cromwell, Tom, or Cromwell, unless refering to some other Cromwell, and sometimes not even then.  It can make the relationships of Mr. Cromwell rather difficult to track.

The second effect is that this third person narration looks inside at thoughts, and examines from outside as a camera, but the thoughts from inside do not effect the camera outside--we have a disjointed consciousness.  This disjointing is deliberate and effective, although after being away from the novel for a while it can be a little confusing upon reengagement.

The cardinal leans back. He puts his fingertips together. "Thomas," he says, "My dear Thomas Cromwell. Very well. But Father Bilney must go back to Cambridge. He must give up his project of going to Rome and addressing the Pope to bring him to a right way of thinking. There are very deep vaults under the Vatican, and my arm will not be able to reach him there."

It is at the tip of his tongue to say, "You could not reach into the cellars of your own college."  But he stops himself.

One would have expected an identification of the second speaker here, but Ms. Mantel relies on the simple pronoun to make clear who is thinking.  It's risky, it's occasionally a little confusing, but it creates about the novel and interesting atmosphere.

Given more time, I may work this up into something more.  But for now, let is serve as an encouragement to all who are tempted by the book--it is worth you time and effort.  It is one of those award winners that seems to have richly merited its reward.  While you may take humbrage at the portrayal of some of the characters, it is richly wrought and the voice and pace are superb.  (So far--I'll say more about it when I've finished.)