The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by Magnus Mills

SHORTLISTED FOR THE GOLDSMITHS PRIZE 2016

The Great Field lies in the bend of a broad, meandering river. Bounded on three sides by water, on the fourth side it dwindles gradually into wilderness. A handful of tents are scattered far and wide across its immensity. Their flags flutter in the warm breeze, rich with the promise of halcyon days.

But more and more people are setting up camp in the lush pastures, and with each new arrival, life becomes a little more complicated. And when a large and disciplined group arrives from across the river, emotions run so high that even a surplus of milk pudding can't soothe ruffled feathers. Change is coming; change that threatens the delicate balance of power in the Great Field.

Magnus Mills's new novel takes its name from the site of a 1520 meeting between Henry VIII and Francis I of France, to improve relations between the countries as the Treaty of London deteriorated. It allegorically suggests a number of historical encounters on British soil: the coming of the Vikings, the coming of the Romans. But The Field of the Cloth of Gold sits firmly outside of time, a skillful and surreal fable dealing with ideas of ownership, empire, immigration, charisma, diplomacy, and bureaucracy. It cements Magnus Mills's status as one of the most original and beloved novelists writing today.

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Fantasy, Novels, Literature, 21st Century, British Literature

216 pages, Paperback

First published April 23, 2015

Reviews

[Nigel · Rating 3 out of 5]

Magnus Mills writes very strange fiction! It's hard to put any kind of label on it really though dark comedy would probably be the closest. I usually think there's something allegorical about them too. This one is a fair way off being a favourite of mine but it was readable. Newcomers should start elsewhere.

[David Harris · Rating 5 out of 5]

The real Field of the Cloth of Gold was where, in 1520 the kings of England France (Henry VIII and Francis I) met to negotiate peace in Europe. It was a lavish affair, with a desire by both monarchs to impress.

Despite the name of the book, this isn't a historical epic about the 16th century - Magnus Mills isn't, I think, after a slice of Hilary Mantel's readership. Rather this is another of his books which have very little concrete connection with any real place or time - just as his last, A Cruel Bird Came to the Nest and Looked In, was set in a kingdom only vaguely located, this focuses exclusively on the Great Field itself and we learn nothing of the surrounding landscape or where or when the story takes place. The field is, simply an area, rather a mundane place, even though several times different characters tell us that it is somewhere special, "the place where momentous events would unfold and come to fruition" (one character had envisaged "a vast sea ofd tents billowing in the breeze,with flags flying and pennants fluttering aloft").

The field does, perhaps, resemble its historical model in one respect: it sees clashes of will between self-aggrandising potentates, if on a local rather than international scale. To the field come a number of characters - the (never named) narrator, Hen, the man of the West, Brigant, Isabella, Thomas and more - to pitch their tents. They claim their places, and they wait. (For what?). They watch each other (a great part of the book is observations, first hand or reported, of what the other characters were up to). They bicker over which part of the field is superior (one declares scornfully that the northern part is best and that those living in the southern part are "soft"). Priority is contested (who really arrived first?) Here is that vagueness again - though the book only spans a few weeks (I think) the characters forget the earlier parts and reshape their memories to suit current politics in the field, a process that reaches its climax on the very last page.

Not all of the settlers in the field are solitary. The pecking order is disturbed early on by the arrival of a small advance party, followed by a larger contingent, a militarized group with "marvellous organizational skills, iron discipline; proper plans and surveys; spacious thoroughfares; sophisticated drainage systems; monumental earthworks; communal kitchens; bathhouses with hot water freely available..." However, after building a ditch and embankment across the field, this group departs in haste: in their place come less sophisticated boat borne settlers...

It's fairly clear, I think, that events are loosely modelled on British history - the arrival of the original inhabitants, followed by later settlers and then that disciplined military force, the Romans who don't, though, stay and are in turn replaced by waves of Saxons and Vikings. But it's all scaled down to the one field, all - apparently - dialled down from bloodthirsty combat to irritated bickering and sulks: as though a group of children were playing at "history of Britain" in the long summer holidays. That impression is heightened by some of the detail - there is precious little mention of food, for example, apart from milk pudding and biscuits, it's all very nursery.

I don't think, though, that this book is meant as an allegory. While some of the correspondences are very close, you would be hard pressed to make exact parallels throughout between book and history (perhaps Mills is playing a game of his own here, challenging us to interpret the copper bath, the missing spades, the comings and goings of Isabella and so on as historical when these details may be there for quite different reasons, or none).

Whatever, it's a fascinating book - and beneath the apparent whimsy and those distracting details there is a steely core to the plot that only slowly becomes visible. In the end, it seems, momentous events may indeed be unfolding and coming to fruition - but not necessarily pleasant or glorious ones.

It's a great read, very different to anything else you're likely to come across - and I'd strongly recommend it.

[Max Sydney Smith · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book works as an allegory for 1,000 years or so of British history. There is a Great Field bordered by water and wildness (hint: Great Britain). The narrator arrives, expecting great but unspecified things to occur here. More people arrive: a man in a white robe and long beard (druids?); a fiery lady (Boudicca?); an organised bunch under a commander called Julian (Romans?); etc etc. But having set up this intricate allegory, Mills seems to run out of steam and the book ends abruptly sometimes shortly after Christianity arrives (I think) in quite an obvious way.

Quite a few reviewers seem to be saying: oh the allegory is interesting but only up to a point. Where it doesn't add up, or seems boring, or obvious, or unfulfilled - it doesn't matter.

But that's the problem for me. It does matter. A lot. Because Mills sacrifices a lot to sustain this allegory. For example, none of the characters have any emotional complexity and the setting is abstract.

The book is charmingly written, with a homely and distinctly British wit. But this isn't enough to hold your attention once you disengage from the dazzling cleverness of the premise.

[Latkins · Rating 4 out of 5]

Magnus Mill's novels are slightly surreal, Kafkaesque affairs. This one is set in a field, and is about its rival residents, all living in tents. The unnamed narrator describes the comings and goings of different characters and communities, and the resentments and quarrels which emerge between them. I don't know if this is a allegorical fable - perhaps the field is meant to be Britain and each of the characters, from the unsociable Hen to the beautiful Isabella, aloof Thomas, rowdy Hogust and amenable Hartapp are meant to be different peoples who have colonised the country over the years. But I expect that it's just a story about a field, and I liked it!

[Anna · Rating 3 out of 5]

Much like A Cruel Bird Came to the Nest and Looked In, ‘The Field of the Cloth of Gold’ is a gentle allegory, narrated by a man who does not really know what’s going on. As with the former, I spent a great deal of the reading process pondering what exactly it was all an allegory for. I’ll err on the side of caution and assume that such speculation constitutes spoilers. My initial theory was that The Field was Europe and each tent-dweller was a European nation, with our narrator being Britain. As events proceeded, I ditched this theory as it became clear that The Field is Great Britain and events seemed to be allegorising early British history. The very orderly group with the milk pudding are clearly signposted as Romans, but my knowledge of history that far back is pretty scanty. Isabella could represent the Celts? The settlement that she and Thomas set up together seems to be London and Hogust and company are probably Vikings. I assume Hippo represented the adoption of Christianity but could be totally wrong. Then again, it’s more than possible that the allegory is looser and more impressionistic than that, so the progression of British history isn’t really being followed.

On the other hand, trying to discern exactly what the fable is an allegory for isn’t really the point. As ever with Mills, the book is beautifully written and communicates remarkably complex points about human behaviour through simple interactions. His narrators are always well-meaning, yet end up making decisions with unintended serious consequences. He is adept at showing the ease of self-delusion, both individually and collectively. I enjoyed ‘The Field of the Cloth of Gold’, although Explorers of the New Century remains my favourite Mills novel as it has such a devastatingly effective twist. His more recent novels haven’t used this structural conceit, instead putting the onus on the reader to determine what he’s telling us. Quite possibly my attempts to map the story here onto specific historical events say more about me than they do about the novel itself.

[Snakes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Mills is one of my favorite authors. There's nobody else currently that writes as he does. Patrick DeWitt oddly enough seems to be trying to imitate him, but in a very poor manner. Mills writes two kinds of books. Ones that are based in fables and quirky novels based in the real word. Thus far the fabalistic ones have been hit and miss. I've throughly enjoy all the realistic ones. This latest book was a fable. And it ended up being just okay. I'm awaiting his next novel based again in the real word.

[Gumble's Yard - Golden Reviewer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Classic tale by a unique author – set in a field where various characters and groups set up tents and interact with each other.

In many ways the book has all the standard elements of his writing: a slightly detached narrator who never really joins any group, big themes being acted out in a prosaic setting, a sense of the absurdity of rules and work.

However the allegorical nature is much stronger here though than in his other books – with the field clearly meant to represent Britain (surrounded by water on three sides and a wilderness on the other), a series of historical references (the Roman invasion, retreat and then occupation; Julius Caesar’s assassination; Hadrain’s wall, a Boudicea type character; Druids; Celts retreating to the South West, Vikings; even the advent of Christianity) as well as side references (North/South Divide, prime property left unoccupied in the South East, The City, the Dartford crossing) and an overarching theme of immigration.

[Paul Fulcher · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the 2nd of the Goldsmith's Prize shortlist for me, and my 5th Magnus Mills novel.

I had very mixed feelings on the previous 4 I've read. I love the way he writes books so different from almost anyone else, the carefully controlled deadpan simplicity of his text, and the start of each novel as one establishes the rules for the surreal world he creates. Against that, he doesn't do much with these worlds: there doesn't seem to be a terribly profound meaning hidden under the surface, there isn't usually any particular conclusion or point to the novels, and I rather tire of them by the end.

And yet there is something strangely morish which makes me pick up another novel, even though I've rated his previous books only from 3 down to 1 star. He is to me the equivalent of a light snack.

It would normally be a fool's errand in any Mills book to treat the novel as too direct an allegory, but that said The Field of the Cloth of Gold seems a rather clearer fable of British history and the tempation to find parallels is more difficult to resist. The title has an obvious reference to Henry XIII, and Mills has said how "it started when I began considering the actual Field of the Cloth of Gold in France, which is where Henry VIII met Francis I. They both had a large pavilion of tents set up. If you go there now, not knowing it’s historical context, it just looks like a big field. So I wondered what would happen if someone happened upon history occurring in an inconspicuous place and not knowing what was going on." http://bombmagazine.org/article/06257...)

However, the novel itself is a closer allegory for the much earlier Roman occupation of Britain, the Viking incursions, the coming of Christianity and up to the Norman conquest, with some nods to present day debates on immigration, multi-culturalism and even the north-south divide.

At times the novel in both style and subject matter is oddly reminiscent of Ishiguro's Buried Giant.

The novel is set in a field, which essentially constitutes an island.: "Situated within the bend of the river, it was effectively separated from all the adjacent fields. The wilderness in the north acted as an additional boundary, and together these factors created a distinct sense of seclusion.", occupied by a number of tent-dwelling settlers.

The words "green and pleasant" land while not present, are heavily conveyed, from the biscuit-obsessed narrator who has a John Majoresque (recall "a country of long shadows on county cricket grounds, warm beer, green suburbs, dog lovers, and old maids cycling to holy communion through the morning mist.") sentimental view of the field:

"Each of us possessed the tent of our choice, we enjoyed luxurious seclusion, and the weather was warm and sunny. We were a handful of settlers scattered far and wide beneath the broad, blue sky. All around us was peace and tranquillity and, as the summer rolled on, a sense of timelessness descended over the field."

With further nods to "Jerusalem", he also sees greatness in the country ("A place where momentous events would unfold and come to fruition") , but which remain stubbornly latent(*):

"I eagerly awaited the halycon days which I was certain lay just ahead.

Hen's outlook was rather more restrained.

'Halycon days only occur in the past', he said. 'They can't be prophesied.'"

(* In fact the momentous events are the history of Britain in microcosm, just told in Mills's understated style and reduced to the petty squabblings of tent dwellers in a field).

The field has a clear north-south divide:

"The quality of the grass deteriorated the further up the field I progressed. Throughout the north it was coarse and dry, a striking contrast with the verdant south, and presumably a direct consequence of the slope. The land drained from north to south, which meant that the south received more than its fair share of rainwater. Viewed from a northern perspective, this seemed like an injustice...Over recent weeks [Brigant] had developed the idea further, and concluded that life became steadily harder the higher up the slope someone lived...He seemed to think that hardship and discomfort were the sole preserve of the north."

There is even an amusing contemporary nod to prime central London buy-to-leave property "the choicest part of the field was being squandered on an empty dwelling, which struck me as unfair."

The harmony of the field is upset when the Roman-like settlers arrive, first as a Caeser like expedition (taking the Tincomarus-like figure, Thomas, back with them), then as a Claudius-style occupation. Although between these two events, the "Caeser" figure, Julian, has disappeared ("'Nobody liked Julian', he said, 'so we got rid of him"").

They even make the north-south divide permanent by building a completely straight trench ("patently the plan had been to set out a straight line between the pegs, but the tent had got in the way"), forcing one of the field dwellers Brigant to move "'it's probably easier to shift my tent'".

The new settlers quickly dominate the field: "Because there were more of them than us, we'd suddenly become the outsiders dwelling on the fringes" (a timely reminder that we are all descended from immigrants in one way or another), largely due to the superior organisational skills and their constant refrain of "Just setting you straight. We're very particular about these details."

Most disturbed by the newcomers is the exotic (Boudicca-like) Isabella, who occupies the East of the field and the narrator tries to persuade her of their merits in a way that inevitably brings to mind the "what have the Romans ever done for us" speech from Life of Brian:

"Marvellous organisational skills; iron discipline; proper plans and surveys: sophisticated drainage systems; monumental earthworks; communal kitchens and bakeries; bathhouses with hot water available. The list goes on and on"

Isabella's main complaint is the uniformity of the newcomers as she favours a multi-cultural society:

""What the field needs is variety. We don't want row upon row of identical tents: we want marquees, douars, shamiyanas, kibitkis, cabanas, tupiks and pandals; we want pavilions with crenellated decorations and swagged contours; and above all we want gorgeous colurs: turquoise, vermilion, indigo, magenta and saffron.'

'Sounds more like a fairground,' remarked Brigant. 'What's wrong with green or brown?'"

The narrator, much more easily accepts the changes largely due to his passivity (his plans for action are always foiled by others beating him to it). He is easily bribed into colloboration by milk pudding, selling his birthright "for a mess of pottage" as Isabella biblically has it, pinning him as an Esau.

Isabella feels forced to leave, which the newcomers greet with relief "We bent over backwards to accomodate her, but all she did was bombard us with complaints and criticism". But soon the "Romans" leave themselves ("we need to return to headquarters ... this is little more than a far flung province...it had been a burden on their resources which they could really do without under the current circumstances"), leaving behind a copper bath, which seems to stand for their pagan gods.

And so the novel continues, including the arrival of a messianic prophet, who condemns the copper bath obsessed south-westerners and whose feet really do tread this green and pleasant land.

As I said earlier it would be foolish to try and find the analogy for everything in the book. The logic of the story as it develops tends to take it away from the original close allegory, and given the story of 1000 years is condensed into a few months of life on the field, characters by necessity take on different roles over time.

But, unlike Mills' other novels, he succeeded in sustaining my interest to the end.

Overall, the best of the 5 of his novels I've read, and his unique approach fully justifies his place on the Goldsmiths shortlist.

[Jeroenf · Rating 4 out of 5]

Opnieuw een fijn boekje van Magnus Mills. Een minimalistische setting - een groot veld waarop om onduidelijke redenen een bont allegaartje van mensen een tent neerpoten - en een verhaal waarin eigenlijk nauwelijks iets gebeurt, al wordt het veld regelmatig wel beschreven als 'the place where momentous events would unfold and come to fruition'. Meer heeft Mills niet nodig om een boeiende en originele roman te schrijven die je kunt lezen als een allegorie op het ontstaan van Groot-Brittannië. De gebruikelijke elementen van de vorige romans zijn opnieuw aanwezig: de eenvoudige schrijfstijl, de typische, moeilijk te omschrijven droge Mills-humor en een goedig, maar wat naïef hoofdpersonage. Na 'All Quiet on the Orient Express' en 'The Restraint of Beasts' toch een van zijn betere boeken.

[Itchy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Weird but good.

[Jo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting weird little book.

[Jonathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel is light on action, and sits halfway between fairy tale and historical allegory. However, I found it most enjoyable when I could simply enter the world of the Great Field, seeing it and its inhabitants through the narrator's eyes. This narrator is almost exclusively an observer (aside from a couple of ill-advised forays into inter-field politics and one Bridge On The River Kwai-esque construction project) but he is not necessarily an astute one. His often slow uptake can be frustrating for the reader, but the ending - in my opinion - redeems the narrator's purpose; as he finds himself, once again, inexorably simply swept along in the current of events on the field, the narrative takes on a new poignancy and depth.

[Robert · Rating 3 out of 5]

There’s something about Magnus Mills’ writing that I like. His ability to create something dark and offbeat using economic language is admirable. Over the years his books have become thematically rich as well.

In theory The Field of the Cloth of Gold could be his magnum opus. It’s his most symbolic and richest work to date. I use the word in theory because I do have issues with it.

Like all of Mills books, the plot is deceptively simple: a field consisting of a couple of tents slowly grows into a fully fledged society, which in turn creates fractions and divisions within the community. I saw it as a symbolic depiction of Britain – and a bit of a prescient one as this book was published a year before the Brexit referendum.

However I felt unsatisfied with the book. I thought something was lacking and I could not enjoy it – at times I even got a bit bored, something which has never happened with a Magnus Mills novel.

Do I recommend The Field of the Cloth of Gold? – umm maybe for a hardcore Mgnus Mills fan but I think reading his first novel, The Restraint of Beasts would be better for a first timer.

[Andrea · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think maybe the circumstances with which I read this book lead me to struggle with it, by all accounts it seems like a book I would enjoy but it was difficult for me to really get into and follow along. After reading some of the other reviews I can see that maybe this isn't the authors strongest work and that I'd probably enjoy some of his other writing, or ultimately should have started there. I finished the book not really knowing what happened.

For now I am putting this down to an author/reader mismatch rather than my experience reading this being a real reflection of the book itself. Very cool and fun concept but I think the style of this book just wasn't a good fit for me right now!

[Marie (UK) · Rating 1 out of 5]

this book started in the middle circled around for a while and ended in the middle. I have no idea what the author was intending to say - except that, whatever it was, he failed to do say

[Alan Swift · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoy the fables of Magnus Mills and this was no exception. The unnamed narrator tells an unsettling tale which raises lots of questions about past and current society. I love that the occupants of the field live in tents. This heightens the vulnerability of the folk and emphasises the importance of space, boundaries and power. It seems to be an allegory of British history but only in a very loose way. The story is told simply but in the Mills way which means the reader is frequently asking, "what is this all about"? Enjoy it and think about the questions which are raised about religion, immigration and tolerance.

[Kris McCracken · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another brilliant novel from Mills, who for my money is one of the most genuinely original writers around today. As with all of his work, this is an odd little book. Whimsical in tone, it is set in a world decidedly out of tune with the rest of the world. There is no doubt that the peculiar tone will annoy many readers, but ultimately this is a book with an lovely kind of charm.

There's clearly an allegorical tale here, and I am sure that the similarities between 'the great field' and the isles of Great Britain are anything but coincidental. The meditation on immigration and the contrast between conservative ideas of preservation and progressive ideas of integration are all very interesting, but I preferred to just immerse myself in the straightforward story.

If you’re looking for a very ‘British’ kind of writer, Mills is not your man. More Central European in tone, I find his eccentricities endearing rather than maddening. I suspect that many could go either way. Recommended.

[Anne-Marie · Rating 3 out of 5]

What could be better than a surplus of milk pudding? An invitation to help reduce that surplus, of course. Our narrator is very keen to take up the offer in The Field of the Cloth of Gold. Recently a large group of people have set up camp across the river from the Great Field and have caused quite a stir. Now they are now offering milk pudding to anyone who comes with a spoon and bowl at 12pm. Not everyone is quite so easily appeased, though, and some are quite irked by their orderly neighbours. However, as more people arrive and set up camp in the great field, the dynamic in the field continues to shift and change. And what, might you ask, does this story have to do with the great meeting of Henry VIII and Francis I in 1520 at the Field of the Cloth of Gold? Everything and nothing. What do I mean? Read it and you’ll see.

[Sally · Rating 2 out of 5]

Some people live in a field. They live in different parts of the field; some in the west, some in the east, etc. Other people arrive. Sometimes they get along with the other people. Sometimes there is conflict. People contemplate marks in the grass left by previous settlers. No-one has a job or work--there's little mention of food as something needed or consumed on a regular basis. The overall feeling is one of watching a chess match.

So, meh. Perhaps--I'm completely open to this possibility--I will come across an article or review that opens up the significance of this book and I will cry "A-ha!" but for now, this is my review and I'm sticking by it.

[Alain Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

I so love the way Mills takes a view of the world and gives it a little twist. Here we have a field with people camping in tents that begins as a haven of peace and tranquility. The dynamic of the place changes of course with each new arrival and each departure. Biscuits, milk puddings and missing shovels are all vital here.

[Darren · Rating 5 out of 5]

wow - 200 pages to detail all human history worldwide - genius.

[Christian Schwoerke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Over the past three weeks, in between some larger novels, I’ve read three Magnus Mills novels: The Scheme for Full Employment, The Field of the Cloth of Gold, and The Forensic Records Society. While I’ve read several other Mills novels, Explorers of the New Century remains my favorite, largely because he employs the deadpan humor and irony in a pointedly specific fashion—the targets are clear and the successful bulls’ eyes measurable—and it becomes a first-rate satire about English zeal, hypocrisy, racism, guilt, and the petty competitions/irritations that undermine groups.

The Scheme for Full Employment presents an alternate reality very like our own, where we slowly come to understand what scheme it is that the English have lost which is being used elsewhere in the world. For several decades there has been a fleet of vans going about specific routes making deliveries and collections, and the sole purpose of these gyrations is to move parts around for the maintenance of the vans and the van depots, in the process affording the workers gainful 8-hour-per-day employment. Mills’ narrator asserts that other countries continue to successfully employ this scheme while the English have bollixed things for a variety of reasons, but mainly because a strike meant to resolve the workers’ own dissension about occasional short (ie, not full) days brings to the attention of others the scheme’s inertial non-productivity. The narrator off-handedly touches on several other worms in the apple, which suggest that other inherent vices might have eventually produced the same result, ie, brought everything to a halt.

The novel seems to have a satiric target, but it’s so general and vague that one is not sure what real-world scheme properly approximates the one in the novel. In some respect, we sense Mills is suggesting that all of our activity is something of the sort, unproductive routines whose only purpose is to ensure we continue to do the same tomorrow. There is much else in the novel that makes finding specific real-world correlatives irrelevant: the narrator’s diffident manner is a common theme in all of his novels, and it allows Mills to present events and transactions with others in a stoic, get-on-with-it manner, even when things appear to be going pear-shaped. The entire subplot about the narrator’s mate’s sideline of selling cakes that his girlfriend bakes is one example of how the narrator handles so matter-of-factly the large and small alterations in his let’s-get-on-with-it, quotidian routine.

Similarly, the narratives in The Field of Cloth of Gold and The Forensic Records Society employ the same polite, diffident narrative persona. In the Field of Cloth, we are in some unspecified pre-Industrial Age setting on a large grass plain defined by the wending of a river, and the narrator tells of coming upon the plain, setting camp, and then of the subsequent arrival of others to the plain and how alliances, rivalries, schisms, and even purging persecutions ensue. It has the appearance of fable, but there are shaggy-dog aspects (such as the fate of the copper bathtub) that detract from the generality of fable, but lend the story a narrative primitivism and naïvete.

It’s all an inch-by-inch incremental growth of tension and dissension—seemingly harmless, even comical—and then finally the all-too-real-and-disturbing awareness that he, the narrator, has somehow got himself complicit in the violence that will ensue. The aura of fable suggests real-world correlatives to events in the novel, but there ends up being only a general target—human nature—which bull’s eye is the entire target.

In The Forensic Records Society, Mills’ target could be specialist groups (like any group of detectorists, stamp collectors, fantasy sport enthusiasts, et al.) or it may be suggesting something about larger institutions like religions and the schisms that occur within them. The particulars, however, are what make the story, and the narrator again ignorantly and naively narrates his tale, never fully apprehending what is going on around him, nor ever drawing any sort of conclusion about what’s transpired. As with The Field of Cloth of Gold, there is a woman who takes a dislike to the narrator, and there are ramifications to her presence and activities that produce disquiet and dissension at a sub rosa level. What begins as the veneration of listening to records ends for one principal character as the fetishizing of a single record, which he will never play. There are multiple threads in the story, but the largest deals with the on-going splintering of the principal group into near replicas of itself. The novel ends with events that transpire and cannot be commented on or judged, much in the manner of the eponymous records society’s founding principles.

There’s a coziness to the voice Mills’ employs in telling his tales, which quietly and decorously broach large and sometimes disturbing themes via banal conversation and humdrum activity. All of Mills’ narrative personae unremarkably skew things so that the ordinary somehow morph into the surreal. Let’s call it Kafka for the English navvy.

[Lucy-Bookworm · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Field of the Cloth of Gold by Magnus Mills

I picked this book up because of the title and I expected something relating to The Field of the Cloth of Gold, that important & rather lavish occasion in 1520 when the Kings of England (Henry VIII) and France (Francis I) met to negotiate peace in Europe.

What I got was an odd tale of a field & the inhabitants of it.
In the early days, there are few occupants of the field, and they settled in their own parts and generally got along well. As more people arrived, a clear North-South divide became apparent and the balance of power and relationships between the groups started to change.
Should the large numbers take precedence over those who’d been here longest. Should the person who has lived there longest take precedence over the one who was here first but left again?

The story is “narrated” by an unnamed person who doesn’t really know what’s going on & simply plods through it, being partly immersed in the life of “The Field” and partly separated from it. Our narrator is a keen observer, describing daily life in “The Field”, the movements of various people/groups and the disagreements that arise between them.

The “world” in this book is small, literally consisting of “a lush meadow, bounded by dense forest and a sparkling river”. Multiple characters indicate that it is somewhere special, but we hear nothing of the world beyond the Great Field, though the climate suggests it’s probably somewhere in Europe. Similarly, we have no indication as to what time period we are in – other than the fact that the people live a simple life with little technology.

There is a simplicity to the text that makes it easy to read & understand. It could be seen as bland and fairly boring, with one dimensional characters living in a field where nothing much happens. However, I think it’s one of those books that can be appreciated on different levels & I was perhaps in the right frame of mind to find something where I might not otherwise have seen it. I’m not big into allegory or seeing things that aren’t explicitly mentioned, but agree with some other reviewers that it *could* have some basis in British History with our “Great Field” perhaps representing the UK or another kingdom, and the people who arrive in the field representing different groups such as the highly organised group with the excess of Milk Pudding perhaps representing the Romans?

There is much you could find in this book, and many theories that you could draw, but it is perhaps not necessary to try & find a deeper meaning or to try & squeeze 1000 years of history into a few months of life in a field!
I listened to the audiobook & the narrator was able to differentiate well between the different characters/groups and held my interest to the end.

Whether it is allegorical or not, it is a tale that will keep you interested till the end & is very different to many other books. I would definitely recommend it to readers who are looking to stretch their boundaries & read something different.

[Ian · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Field of the Cloth of Gold by Magnus Mills is a deceptively simple tale that tells of the founding of a settlement on what in the novel becomes known as “The Great Field.” Bounded on three sides by a river and by wilderness on the other, the field is a temptingly verdant patch that attracts the attention of various wanderers, who pitch their tents and burrow in for the long haul. When the unnamed narrator arrives (we are never told from where), the only other inhabitant is Hen, who has set himself up on the western margin. The narrator comes with high hopes. For some reason, never articulated, he views the field as “the place where momentous events would unfold and come to fruition.” He is a gregarious sort who values honesty and will go to lengths to see that others get along. The next to arrive is Thomas, he of the flowing white robe and imperious manner, who erects his elaborate tent in the south-east (the geography is described with precision throughout). Isabella comes next, with her crimson tent. The story, such as it is, is built around such comings and goings, interactions and the buzz of rumor among the inhabitants. An organized group arrives, led by Julian. They stay briefly, and when they leave Thomas goes with them. Thomas returns, and then the same group returns, but this time without Julian. All along, the narrator is kept busy speculating about what is driving the movement and upheaval. We see the action through his eyes, and though he participates in some activities, he is a loner and mostly an observer. When the population of the field begins to grow with many arrivals in a short time, it becomes difficult for him to keep up with peoples’ motivations and intentions. Along the way, there are conflicts, disagreements, bad behaviour, deception, and ebb and flow in the balance of power. To readers of Magnus Mills, it will come as no surprise that the action of the novel takes place in a bubble, with no reference to an outside world consisting of familiar landmarks. Inevitably, or so it seems, we are invited to see the Great Field as England, and the various arrivals as the tribes who descended on the island over the centuries, stayed or left, but somehow made their mark. In the end, with emotions running at a fever pitch, the narrator learns to indulge in some morally dubious fudging of the truth, and thereby ensure his survival. With innocence lost, can anarchy be far behind?

[Jaylen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Classic Magnus Mills.

The Field of Cloth and Hold follows the habitual dwellers of a field and their day to day lives.

This is the fifth Magnus Mills book I have read this year and I'm sorry to say that this one was a bit of a let down. Magnus Mills has a tight structure which feels like it is repeated in each of his books. The narrative is always somewhat mundane but written in excruciating detail, which is what makes the books funny in my opinion. They are full of black, dark humour and they can at times be very cynical and sarcastic.

The Field of Cloth and Gold is no different - the tent dwellers live a mundane life but as usual it is full of schemes, betrayal and drama. I found this book to be the hardest to get into, which may be because I know the structure so well. The book was enjoyable, but felt like I had read it before in a sense.

As I continue to read his books, the names of characters seem to get even more wild: Tam and Richie were interesting to start with in The Restraint of Beasts, but Hippo, Hartopp and YADEGARIAN in The Field of Cloth and Gold felt a little over the top to me.

I enjoyed the plot for the most part, it was funny and cyclical as most Magnus Mills books are. I enjoyed the ending which changed my overall opinion of the book as it ended in a way that was frustrating and sarcastic and cyclical which is what I enjoy most about these books. The Field it seems will never be rid of the chaos and feuding, though what they are really fighting about is trivial and futile.

Overall I still love Magnus Mills but this book is not the best if his in my opinion.

2.75-3 Stars

[Tony · Rating 2 out of 5]

The title of Mills's eighth novel comes from the name for the 1520 summit between Henry VIII and Francis I, the goal of which was to strengthen Anglo-French bonds. Apparently Mills came across the innocuous field that was the site of that historic two-week event and that became the inspiration for this story. 

Not surprisingly, it's an allegory of sorts -- written in the deadpan tone that Mills' fans (such as myself) love. I have to admit that I have no idea what it was all about while reading it, although the heavy attention to geographic detail (the parts of the field, the river that bounds it, a trench that gets dug) strongly suggested that it was tied to some real-world equivalent carving up of territory. 

After the fact, it all makes sense that it's the story of Britain and various invasions. As new groups of people arrive at the field, they represent two waves of Romans, Viking raiders, and eventually a ragged bloke with an obscure message who's clearly meant to invoke the arrival of Christianity.

While I love a number of Mills's books, unfortunately this one just felt like a clever conceit with nothing behind it. There's some level of pleasure to be gained from his particularly stylized prose, and there's some minor fun to be had decoding various elements (copper bath = golden calf, geddit?), but there's a "why can't everyone just get along" tone expressed by the narrator that lacks any cutting edge. Overall, a bit of a misfire, even for a Mills fan like me.

[Nathan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Mills does Mills, and if you know him, you get it. Once again, the story feels like it COULD be allegorical but as most of his novels prove, this sense is a red herring, the elusive allegory acting as a catalyst to explore interpersonal relationships, quivering loyalties, social structures, and flaws in systems. There’s not as much mundanity (that’s not a slight, he’s at his best when the page turning quality of the work stands defiant against the eye-blinkingly boring details) as say, Restraint or Scheme, but there’s enough details about tents and tent maintenance to keep fans happy while the yet again nameless protagonist and his voiceless antagonist navigate a large field of permanent camping residents. Details such as money or sustenance take a fairy tale-esque back burner to matters of borders, minor dramas, and gossip as the field becomes continually populated by mysterious newcomers. Goodness, it just doesn’t sell this book to talk about or describe this book. Mills is a master and this book is beautiful.

[Millie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Magnus Mills is able to write with a completely stripped down perspective by the main character (narrator? idk). Humanity, is the deal. A class on what exactly he's doing would be good for me, as I do want to understand. I see some reviewers call him a comedic author but I think he is WAY more profound and satirical. I suppose he can be all 3, putting him in that one vague box doesn't give him the credit he deserves. Jeez, such a fan girl! Anyhow, the joy of this one for me is that it's about the dynamics of neighbors watching each other, making up motives for the others, gossiping (but in the most benign way like "I don't know why they're doing that"), making interactions way bigger than they need to be. But like I said, completely stripped down. READ HIM. I'm going to google the book and look for a meaty review. Yesterday I looked up the title, started reading what I thought was a review, saw the word "jousting" and snapped "there was no jousting" at the computer. So. Drama. Turns out it was the name of some British royalty event. Another layer I didn't get!

[Nikki · Rating 1 out of 5]

Did not finish. So annoyed with this book that it is going in the recycling with the flattened boxes. The story (there isn't one, by the way, at least not by 1/3 of the way in) takes place in a no-time, no-where, though everyone speaks the same language and they all have first names... Hen, Thomas, Isabella. Lucky, huh? that they can all speak to one another, when they deign to ( because often they don't). Then the semi-peaceful idyll is broken when the new Borg-like group comes and sets up a tent city (no individuals, everyone has a task, the tents are all alike, no-one from the outside likes them). Describing all this was a real slog.

This is, I am certain, supposed to be a useful story, an allegory. But if I want one of those, I will head over to Plato's cave. This was incredibly dull, dull, dull.

[Marvin · Rating 3 out of 5]

This respected, but not widely read, author has written at least 10 books. This is only the second that I've read. Of the other, Three to See the King, I wrote, "A strange, spare fable . . . that mostly went over my head. I think it's probably a good book, & I enjoyed it, but I suspected that I missed much of what the author intended." That pretty much captures my response to this one, too. Here, a field in the bend of a river that could be anywhere at any time is gradually, over a period of months, settled by a diverse cast of characters. I mostly don't know what to make of it, in particular the obsession with commenting on the structure and style of the various settlers' tents. It seems to be about socio/political organization from scratch, sort of a Hobbesian fable, but I'm not at all sure about that. Despite my puzzlement, I found this, like his earlier novel, oddly compelling.