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Mantel Pieces: Royal Bodies and Other Writing from the London Review of Books
A stunning collection of essays and memoir from twice Booker Prize winner and international bestseller Hilary Mantel, author of The Mirror and the Light In 1987, when Hilary Mantel was first published in the London Review of Books , she wrote to the editor, Karl Miller, ‘I have no critical training whatsoever, so I am forced to be more brisk and breezy than scholarly.’ This collection of twenty reviews, essays and pieces of memoir from the next three decades, tells the story of what happened next. Her subjects range far and Robespierre and Danton, the Hite report, Saudi Arabia where she lived for four years in the 1980s, the Bulger case, John Osborne, the Virgin Mary as well as the pop icon Madonna, a brilliant examination of Helen Duncan, Britain’s last witch. There are essays about Jane Boleyn, Charles Brandon, Christopher Marlowe and Margaret Pole, which display the astonishing insight into the Tudor mind we are familiar with from the bestselling Wolf Hall Trilogy. Her famous lecture, ‘Royal Bodies’, which caused a media frenzy, explores the place of royal women in society and our imagination. Here too are some of her LRB diaries, including her first meeting with her stepfather and a confrontation with a circus strongman. Constantly illuminating, always penetrating and often very funny, interleaved with letters and other ephemera gathered from the archive, Mantel Pieces is an irresistible selection from one of our greatest living writers.
335 pages, Hardcover
First published October 1, 2020
345 people are currently reading
1924 people want to read
About the author
Hilary Mantel
123 books7,860 followersHilary Mantel was the bestselling author of many novels including Wolf Hall, which won the Man Booker Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award for fiction. Bring Up the Bodies, Book Two of the Wolf Hall Trilogy, was also awarded the Man Booker Prize and the Costa Book Award. She also wrote A Change of Climate, A Place of Greater Safety, Eight Months on Ghazzah Street, An Experiment in Love, The Giant, O'Brien, Fludd, Beyond Black, Every Day Is Mother's Day, Vacant Possession, and a memoir, Giving Up the Ghost. Mantel was the winner of the Hawthornden Prize, and her reviews and essays have appeared in The New York Times, The New York Review of Books, and the London Review of Books.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 228 reviews
December 7, 2022
These essays are culled from Mantel’s semi-regular contributions to the London Review of Books over a period of many years. Most are based on books she’s reviewing, chosen because they’re of interest to her for one reason or another. The story of a medium prosecuted for being a witch—in the 1940s—greatly interests Mantel, and so interested me, especially as it turns into an indictment of the type of people (gender- and class-wise) deemed guilty.
In my Catholic childhood, I had a fascination with the stories of women who became Catholic saints, so the essay on "holy anorexia" found its perfect audience. Her piece on the way “royal bodies” are viewed and treated by the public and the media is forceful.
The essay describing her hallucinations, while in the hospital with complications from surgery due to a misdiagnosed chronic issue, is memorable. She mocks Virginia Woolf for saying language has no words for illness then goes on to list a bunch. Later, in an essay about Henry VIII, she mentions that many people, including doctors, don’t realize how chronic pain can change a person.
If the essays about the French Revolution and the Plantagenets/Tudors didn’t stand out for me, perhaps it’s because I’ve read Mantel’s historical fiction, as well as other books on the latter time period. Correspondence with the LRB editors is interspersed between the essays and I found it humorous when an editor points out that a “he” in a sentence about Cromwell is ambiguous. Mantel edits the sentence slightly, but… if you know, you know.
In my Catholic childhood, I had a fascination with the stories of women who became Catholic saints, so the essay on "holy anorexia" found its perfect audience. Her piece on the way “royal bodies” are viewed and treated by the public and the media is forceful.
The essay describing her hallucinations, while in the hospital with complications from surgery due to a misdiagnosed chronic issue, is memorable. She mocks Virginia Woolf for saying language has no words for illness then goes on to list a bunch. Later, in an essay about Henry VIII, she mentions that many people, including doctors, don’t realize how chronic pain can change a person.
If the essays about the French Revolution and the Plantagenets/Tudors didn’t stand out for me, perhaps it’s because I’ve read Mantel’s historical fiction, as well as other books on the latter time period. Correspondence with the LRB editors is interspersed between the essays and I found it humorous when an editor points out that a “he” in a sentence about Cromwell is ambiguous. Mantel edits the sentence slightly, but… if you know, you know.
October 9, 2022
Marie Antoinette as a royal consort was a gliding, smiling disaster, much like Diana in another time and another country. But Kate Middleton, as she was, appeared to have been designed by a committee and built by craftsmen, with a perfect plastic smile and the spindles of her limbs hand-turned and gloss-varnished.
I'd say this is very much a collection for Mantel fans and for those who loved her Wolf Hall trilogy and her earlier epic, A Place of Greater Safety, about the architects of the French Revolution. What links these books is an attention to monarchy, courts and the workings of power, as well as an interest in issues of gender - and we find these concerns echoed in Mantel's writings for LRB, largely in the form of extended book reviews that follow that publication's review-as-essay format.
Mantel is, as ever, witty and often iconoclastic while also being both clever and intelligent. Her observations are a delight and wrapped around in her trademark cutting and frequently scathing voice whether she's bemoaning kebab canapes at Buckingham Palace (and why won't the 'flunkeys' take back the cocktail sticks?!) or examining the relations between royal women and their dresses ('Marie Antoinette was a woman eaten alive by her frocks. She was transfixed by appearances, stigmatised by her fashion choices').
It's reassuring to see her research in action and to appreciate to what extent it props up her fiction - she ably resists the impulse to infodump everything she knows in her novels, but the foundations as evidenced here are deep and secure.
Above all, I think, I love Mantel's ability to take her work seriously without losing her acute sense of humour - her mischievous and impish takes are everywhere.
December 13, 2020
Any fan of Hilary Mantel is going to be particularly at home amongst this collection of "reviews, essays and pieces of memoir". Readers new to Mantel or with little interest in non-fictionalised history are going to find this a tough ask.
Covering a period from 1988 thru to 2017 during which she wrote pieces for the London Review of Books, it tracks her interests and themes from her novels remarkably well. Several pieces on characters from The French Revolution - Theroigne de Mericourt, Marie-Antoinette, Robespierre, Danton piqued my interest in Mantel's 1992 novel A Place of Greater Safety .
For those suffering from Tudor withdrawal, there are pieces on Jane Boleyn, Charles Brandon, and Margaret Pole. Despite her protestations to the contrary "I am forced to be more brisk and breezy than scholarly". Mantel is no slouch in critiquing some dry sounding history books:
The subtitle of Steven Gunn's scholarly biography describes its subject as 'Henry VIII's Closest Friend'. What a prospect of damp-palmed horror that phrase evokes! The knocking of Tudor knees echos down the years. Can a King have friends?
Like a Tudor detective, Mantel ferrets out the slightest whiff of historical overreach whilst managing to land some sly burns not once, but twice, to the hapless Phillipa Gregory.
I rather admire Hilary the most when she is being deliciously mean as well as rigorously intellectual. A skill she applies across a surprising breadth of topics.
On Madonna :
Anderson's book begins, as it should, with the prodigal, the violent, the gross. But what do you expect? Madonna's wedding was different from other people's.
The memoirs of John Osbourne:
A ferociously sulky, rancorous book
And a hilarious little takedown of a book called Women in Love. The New Hite Report
There is so much in these pages that Lord Byron said first, and better, ..with merciful brevity ...and without the advantages of sociological research - tee hee.
But it was a lecture for which she attracted the ire of a nation. Royal Bodies, delightfully provocative and arguably the best essay in an outstanding collection. It demonstrates what happens when you dare to mock the royal canapés and lightly poke fun at the institution of monarchy
Our current royal family doesn't have the difficulties in breeding that pandas do, but pandas and royal persons alike are expensive to conserve and ill-adapted to any modern environment
For students of Mantel's works (or aspiring book reviewers), this collection is a must-read.
Covering a period from 1988 thru to 2017 during which she wrote pieces for the London Review of Books, it tracks her interests and themes from her novels remarkably well. Several pieces on characters from The French Revolution - Theroigne de Mericourt, Marie-Antoinette, Robespierre, Danton piqued my interest in Mantel's 1992 novel A Place of Greater Safety .
For those suffering from Tudor withdrawal, there are pieces on Jane Boleyn, Charles Brandon, and Margaret Pole. Despite her protestations to the contrary "I am forced to be more brisk and breezy than scholarly". Mantel is no slouch in critiquing some dry sounding history books:
The subtitle of Steven Gunn's scholarly biography describes its subject as 'Henry VIII's Closest Friend'. What a prospect of damp-palmed horror that phrase evokes! The knocking of Tudor knees echos down the years. Can a King have friends?
Like a Tudor detective, Mantel ferrets out the slightest whiff of historical overreach whilst managing to land some sly burns not once, but twice, to the hapless Phillipa Gregory.
I rather admire Hilary the most when she is being deliciously mean as well as rigorously intellectual. A skill she applies across a surprising breadth of topics.
On Madonna :
Anderson's book begins, as it should, with the prodigal, the violent, the gross. But what do you expect? Madonna's wedding was different from other people's.
The memoirs of John Osbourne:
A ferociously sulky, rancorous book
And a hilarious little takedown of a book called Women in Love. The New Hite Report
There is so much in these pages that Lord Byron said first, and better, ..with merciful brevity ...and without the advantages of sociological research - tee hee.
But it was a lecture for which she attracted the ire of a nation. Royal Bodies, delightfully provocative and arguably the best essay in an outstanding collection. It demonstrates what happens when you dare to mock the royal canapés and lightly poke fun at the institution of monarchy
Our current royal family doesn't have the difficulties in breeding that pandas do, but pandas and royal persons alike are expensive to conserve and ill-adapted to any modern environment
For students of Mantel's works (or aspiring book reviewers), this collection is a must-read.
skimmed
December 4, 2020I wasn’t particularly interested in the subjects of Mantel’s LRB articles, but I was intrigued by her correspondence with the editor, from handwritten letters to faxes to e-mails. It was another time, for sure: in the late 1980s she could just be like, “Um, hi! Can I write stuff for you?” and it worked. (I’ve tried that approach many times and, believe me, it doesn’t work. There are just too many talented book reviewers out there.) Over the years she was given such latitude to write whatever she wanted, at whatever length, and to negotiate deadlines. Such freedom is unimaginable now. Also, depressingly, she was probably getting roughly the same pay as one could expect from a similar publication now (e.g. a £150 kill fee in 1988). The price of everything has gone up, but what one can get paid for writing about books has, generally, not. It was also neat to see that Mantel has lived in a lot of the same corners of southern England as I have, such as Woking and various places around Berkshire.
Passages I noted:
“It is true that reviewing eats up time. Even in the easier days in which I began, you had to become a workhorse if you wanted worthwhile returns. …Young reviewers become fired with zeal against the established and the over-rated. They think they are doing justice, but it takes them longer to learn about mercy.”
“To fix a book in context needs background reading. … I was always asking for time, more time to learn – and it was always granted. Sometimes I was slow because I was over-committed, but sometimes because I was fascinated. The editors forgave my occasional bouts of critic’s block.”
from a 2010 diary about approaching a major surgery: “The last thing the surgeon said to me, on the afternoon of the procedure: ‘For you, this is a big thing, but remember, to us it is routine.’” [I reread this for reassurance in the days before my mother had brain surgery to clip an aneurysm. It was a scary prospect but it was indeed a routine surgery and all went well.]
Passages I noted:
“It is true that reviewing eats up time. Even in the easier days in which I began, you had to become a workhorse if you wanted worthwhile returns. …Young reviewers become fired with zeal against the established and the over-rated. They think they are doing justice, but it takes them longer to learn about mercy.”
“To fix a book in context needs background reading. … I was always asking for time, more time to learn – and it was always granted. Sometimes I was slow because I was over-committed, but sometimes because I was fascinated. The editors forgave my occasional bouts of critic’s block.”
from a 2010 diary about approaching a major surgery: “The last thing the surgeon said to me, on the afternoon of the procedure: ‘For you, this is a big thing, but remember, to us it is routine.’” [I reread this for reassurance in the days before my mother had brain surgery to clip an aneurysm. It was a scary prospect but it was indeed a routine surgery and all went well.]
April 21, 2022
Final report, 2/21/21: I'm about halfway thru, reading & skimming. She writes well, as you already know. You read the publisher's blurb above, right? Mostly reviews of books I have no interest in reading -- yet another exposé of Marie Antoinette! One so far has stood out as memorable: an account of a raid in the French & Indian Wars on the American frontier in the earliest 18th century. This raid was on the town of Deerfield, Mass. in late February of 1704, almost exactly 317 years ago: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raid_on... A French-led war party of Mohawks attacked, killing, burning the town, taking prisoners. There was a business arrangement between the Mohawks and the French, of buying ransomable prisoners from the Indians, and returning them to their relatives once they paid the ransom. The Indians took a recorded 112 prisoners from Deerfield. About 20 died or were killed on the trail to Canada. Those who couldn't keep up were summarily killed. Pastor Williams, the central character in the book Mantel reviewed, had his black slaves killed, one during the raid, the other en route. His wife was killed. Three of their children survived and were ransomed. A fourth child, Eunice, then 14, the Indians refused to ransom. She eventually stayed in Quebec voluntarily. She visited her home in New England twice, but returned to Canada, with her Mohawk husband, where she lived until she died at age 89.
Book came due, and I have no real interest in continuing. The essay on the 1704 French & Indian raid on Deerfield, Mass was interesting. The rest (to where I stopped) were not. DNF.
Book came due, and I have no real interest in continuing. The essay on the 1704 French & Indian raid on Deerfield, Mass was interesting. The rest (to where I stopped) were not. DNF.
January 30, 2023
“There is, therefore, a temptation to write afterthoughts into these pieces, to embellish them with later and better thinking. I have not done that, but left them as they were--mantelpieces littered with to-do lists, and messages form people I used to be.” From the Introduction
This collection of essays spans a 30 year period: 1987-2017, so it’s understandable Mantel might have been tempted to make some changes. But no changes were needed. Watching her mind at work, pondering all manner of subjects from monarchy to witchcraft, was awe-inspiring.
My lack of historical knowledge hampered my appreciation of some of the essays, but even when I didn’t know much about the references I still couldn’t help admire her thinking.
Two, on very personal topics, were my favorites. One covered meeting her stepfather when she was four years old, where to my memory, she totally nailed the viewpoint from that age. Another, the frank depiction of her horrific experience in the hospital after surgery, felt like a public service announcement wrapped in a horror story. “None of us thinks the complication rate applies to us.”
Overall, what I enjoyed most was her approach to writing about history, summed up for me in these two quotes:
“Biography must surely begin with an act of imagination.”
but also,
“To accept an untruth, to assent to a lazy version of history, is not just negligent but immoral.”
How tragic that we’ve lost such a brilliant mind.
This collection of essays spans a 30 year period: 1987-2017, so it’s understandable Mantel might have been tempted to make some changes. But no changes were needed. Watching her mind at work, pondering all manner of subjects from monarchy to witchcraft, was awe-inspiring.
My lack of historical knowledge hampered my appreciation of some of the essays, but even when I didn’t know much about the references I still couldn’t help admire her thinking.
Two, on very personal topics, were my favorites. One covered meeting her stepfather when she was four years old, where to my memory, she totally nailed the viewpoint from that age. Another, the frank depiction of her horrific experience in the hospital after surgery, felt like a public service announcement wrapped in a horror story. “None of us thinks the complication rate applies to us.”
Overall, what I enjoyed most was her approach to writing about history, summed up for me in these two quotes:
“Biography must surely begin with an act of imagination.”
but also,
“To accept an untruth, to assent to a lazy version of history, is not just negligent but immoral.”
How tragic that we’ve lost such a brilliant mind.
October 28, 2020
Sublime, as you'd expect. What is new, however, is that when she sinks her teeth into a subject, she's brutal: “Our heroine is charmless, foul-mouthed [...] We know that in this film we are seeing the real Madonna - for we know from her other films that she cannot act”. The essays that shine through all focalise on misogyny - the infamous Royal Bodies, the Hair Shirt Sisterhood, and Britain's Last Witch; she takes figures of history who have been mythologised, and dissects the phallocentric iconography that has warped their image. And as someone who is still haunted by periods of physical and mental ill health, Meeting The Devil is the essay that lingers in my mind with a spectral quality. She writes about the visceral and mental aspects of pain so well:
'Pain is a present-tense business.'
'Illness strips you back to an authentic self, but not one you need to meet. Too much is claimed for authenticity. Painfully, we learn to live in the world, and to be false. Then all our defences are knocked down in one sweep. In sickness we can't avoid knowing about our body and what it does, its animal aspect, its demands. We see things that never should be seen; our inside is outside, the body's sewer pipes and vaults exposed to view, as if in a woodcut of our own martyrdom.'
'No one's pain is so special that the devil's dictionary of anguish has not anticipated it.'
The essays that stand out all focus on the pain of women - the manipulation of their bodies, their minds, their legacies - and it's through this lens that the book is at its most interesting.
'Pain is a present-tense business.'
'Illness strips you back to an authentic self, but not one you need to meet. Too much is claimed for authenticity. Painfully, we learn to live in the world, and to be false. Then all our defences are knocked down in one sweep. In sickness we can't avoid knowing about our body and what it does, its animal aspect, its demands. We see things that never should be seen; our inside is outside, the body's sewer pipes and vaults exposed to view, as if in a woodcut of our own martyrdom.'
'No one's pain is so special that the devil's dictionary of anguish has not anticipated it.'
The essays that stand out all focus on the pain of women - the manipulation of their bodies, their minds, their legacies - and it's through this lens that the book is at its most interesting.
August 31, 2021
Hilary Mantel wrote these twenty pieces for the London Review of Books between 1988 and 2017. Most are book reviews, though frequently the book itself is secondary to Mantel’s writing on the subject, always well researched and usually very clever. Many are concerned with Tudor or French Revolutionary figures, eras where Mantel has considerable experience, though I can’t say they were my favourites.
Other reviews range from pieces on Madonna, the James Bulger murder in England, England’s Last Witch to a devastating takedown of Shere Hite’s report on American Marriage, and to me those were more interesting as Mantel’s sharp writing was more evident there.
In addition, there are several essays that aren’t reviews, most notably Royal Bodies (comparing Kate Middleton to Anne Boleyn among other things) that apparently produced a storm of controversy, but that I thought was witty and very much to the point.
In short, Mantelpieces is - mostly - a delight to read, but something to dip into, not to be read at one sitting!
Other reviews range from pieces on Madonna, the James Bulger murder in England, England’s Last Witch to a devastating takedown of Shere Hite’s report on American Marriage, and to me those were more interesting as Mantel’s sharp writing was more evident there.
In addition, there are several essays that aren’t reviews, most notably Royal Bodies (comparing Kate Middleton to Anne Boleyn among other things) that apparently produced a storm of controversy, but that I thought was witty and very much to the point.
In short, Mantelpieces is - mostly - a delight to read, but something to dip into, not to be read at one sitting!
October 12, 2022
Excellent set of essays, many covering similar historical periods as those covered in her novels, all well-written with memorable phrases and her wonderful cutting intelligence and humour. I enjoyed getting the benefit of her research on Tudor England and revolutionary France from an angle slightly different than her novels.
I was glad to see that the "Royal Bodies" essay, criticised by many for its words on Kate Middleton, was more a critique of the public fascination with royalty, their dress and their fertility, than a personal attack.
The essay on her illness was a superb portrayal of pain and illness altering consciousness.
Very enjoyable!
I was glad to see that the "Royal Bodies" essay, criticised by many for its words on Kate Middleton, was more a critique of the public fascination with royalty, their dress and their fertility, than a personal attack.
The essay on her illness was a superb portrayal of pain and illness altering consciousness.
Very enjoyable!
October 14, 2020
Thoroughly enjoyed. Every essay has something deeply intriguing about it. Mantel is such a fantastic writer I’m sure she could make any subject interesting. ‘Britain’s Last Witch’ was my stand out favourite.
January 27, 2021
“Fine prose makes the memory work.”
April 23, 2021
I am a big fan of Mantel's writing, although as a writer I am constantly depressed by her with the ever present thought of "how does she write so brilliantly" coupled with the knowledge I won't write anything as good. I think this book is really for the hard core fans rather than just anyone who likes her Wolf Hall trilogy or other works. It consists on selected writing from the London Review of books which she is a frequent reviewer for - including her essay Royal Bodies which caused quite a stir a few years ago, (although for those of a calmer disposition with relation to anything to do with royalty it is hard to see why).
Some of the reviews are on books we might closely associate with Mantel's areas of interest - most specifically the Tudors. Other though roam far and wide and cover fiction and non-fiction. She is a good reviewer, but a highly critical one. When I read the first few reviews in the book, I wondered, does she actually like anything? But later on, you move into books she is more appreciative of, but even here she has the critics eye and nothing is unfailingly praised. I'm not sure this would be for everyone, but if you want to see a good long form review, and understand all the work that must go into producing one (not only reading the book being reviewed, but also widely in the surrounding domain) it is worth it. As a result, I've decided to subscribe to the London Review of Books, so I guess that is praise of a form!
Some of the reviews are on books we might closely associate with Mantel's areas of interest - most specifically the Tudors. Other though roam far and wide and cover fiction and non-fiction. She is a good reviewer, but a highly critical one. When I read the first few reviews in the book, I wondered, does she actually like anything? But later on, you move into books she is more appreciative of, but even here she has the critics eye and nothing is unfailingly praised. I'm not sure this would be for everyone, but if you want to see a good long form review, and understand all the work that must go into producing one (not only reading the book being reviewed, but also widely in the surrounding domain) it is worth it. As a result, I've decided to subscribe to the London Review of Books, so I guess that is praise of a form!
October 30, 2020
I will read anything this woman writes. The minute I read about this book, I ordered it (bookshop.org - supports my choice of independent bookstore, arrived in 3 days. Just sayin'...). If you found Wolf Hall, Bring Up the Bodies, The Mirror and The Light, and A Place of Greater Safety too daunting in their length, density, and complexity, this may be more approachable as a collection of reviews and essays appearing over the years in the London Review of Books. They too can be intense, and demanding, but they are shorter, and often cover the same ground, given her expertise. So if you did relish the masterworks, you'll get a satisfying top-up here, with additional coverage of Tudors and Jacobins and other characters of less prominence but much interest.
Mantel began writing reviews in the 1980s. And this selection is like a course in review-writing. She had no training as a critic, no experience. But by god, she could read and think and interpret and write. It's fascinating to watch her master her craft, ranging from a quizzical examination of Shere Hite's report on women and love, a biography of pop phenomenon Madonna, a wonderful piece on the last woman to be convicted under England's 18th century witchcraft laws - in the 1940s! - to an acid lecture on the the roles and expectations of women in the royal family. There are also more personal pieces, dissecting (almost literally) her own travails with undiagnosed illness and savage surgery, and growing up with a fractured family and faith. The essays are interspersed with copies of notes, then faxes, then emails between Mantel and her editor, Mary-Kay Wilmers - asking for more time, asking for certain books to be considered, shared anecdotes and affectionate wishes. We should all be so lucky.
Highly recommended for anyone who already admires Hilary Mantel and her books, who can't get anough of the Tudors and/or French revolutionaries, mediums and seances and spritualists, or who want to write brilliant, thoughtful book reviews... there are a few of those here, right?
juliestielstra.com
Mantel began writing reviews in the 1980s. And this selection is like a course in review-writing. She had no training as a critic, no experience. But by god, she could read and think and interpret and write. It's fascinating to watch her master her craft, ranging from a quizzical examination of Shere Hite's report on women and love, a biography of pop phenomenon Madonna, a wonderful piece on the last woman to be convicted under England's 18th century witchcraft laws - in the 1940s! - to an acid lecture on the the roles and expectations of women in the royal family. There are also more personal pieces, dissecting (almost literally) her own travails with undiagnosed illness and savage surgery, and growing up with a fractured family and faith. The essays are interspersed with copies of notes, then faxes, then emails between Mantel and her editor, Mary-Kay Wilmers - asking for more time, asking for certain books to be considered, shared anecdotes and affectionate wishes. We should all be so lucky.
Highly recommended for anyone who already admires Hilary Mantel and her books, who can't get anough of the Tudors and/or French revolutionaries, mediums and seances and spritualists, or who want to write brilliant, thoughtful book reviews... there are a few of those here, right?
juliestielstra.com
January 8, 2021
I'm sorry, but I just don't get on with Hilary Mantel, despite never having met her. She doesn't come across as likeable in her interviews and this book has confirmed to me that she is mean-spirited. Most reviewers aim to focus on the positives of a book. Not Hilary Mantel. Her mouth is full of acid drops. For example, she says this of Philippa Gregory in the chapter on Jane Boleyn: 'The subject of this biography has already been fearlessly minced into fiction by the energetic Philippa Gregory.' I almost slammed down the book in disgust. Writers should be supporting each other. I can't get on with Mantel's writing style. It's too formal and she mangles words and phrases in such a way as to sound clever or superior. Her writing just isn't accessible. This is the reason I only got a third of the way through Wolf Hall and why I only read a few chapters of Mantel Pieces. She doesn't seem to have a good word to say about anyone.
December 19, 2020
A selection of book reviews mostly, particularly on Tudor subjects, and one or two more personal pieces are included, every one of them fascinating. Sublime writing. Her breadth of knowledge and her incisive wit shine through.
November 20, 2023
Vermakelijke en scherpe essays van Mantel, maar soms ook wel erg langdradig. Door sommige stukken vloog je heen alleen een aantal onderwerpen staan toch iets te ver van mij af om helemaal in op te gaan.
August 8, 2022
I came for the articles on the French Revolutionaries and the Tudor Court but thoroughly enjoyed other essays too. These essays demonstrate the level of research which explain the quality of her novels.
May 19, 2021
Reading a book of reviews is not high on my reading list, but having been floored by Hilary Mantel’s 'Wolf Hall' (see my review) and 'Bring Up the Bodies' (review to come) it wasn’t that hard a sell. 'Mantel Pieces: Royal Bodies and Other Writing from the London Review of Books' blew my preconceptions right out of the literary water.
I will never read most of the twenty books that make up the substance of Mantel Pieces but that doesn’t matter. Each review is a little jewel in itself - exhaustively researched and written in clean, lucid prose.
I found every review interesting, even if I thought the book itself wouldn’t be for me. For example, the first review was of Shere Hite’s 1988 effort 'Women and Love'. I’m familiar with Ms Hite’s work from the days when I worked in a bookstore, in California. Mantel nails Hite succinctly calling her work “an uneasy blend of prurience and pedantry”. Ouch! Or, iconoclastically titling the review of Chris Anderson’s book 'In Bed with Madonna' as 'Plain Girl’s Revenge Made Flesh'.
Where Mantel really shines is in her review of historical books like 'The Recockning: The Murder of Christopher Marlowe' by Charles Nicholl or 'Margaret Pole: The Countess in the Tower' by Susan Higginbotham where her expertise in English history promotes the subject admirably. But, there is something for everyone here: Britain’s Last Witch, on Devotion to the Blessed Mary and the still indigestible murder of James Bulger.
My favourite “piece” wasn’t a review at all but an essay called 'Meeting the Devil' written on the harrowing aftermath of her medical procedure. I can’t imagine a more intense, graphic telling. This is part of a series of diary writings that reflect on her experiences in Saudi Arabia and meeting her step-father, as well.
Each review is prefaced by some communication, a letter, postcard, fax or e-mail between Mantel and her editor, Mary-Kay Wilmers, which gives insight into her procedures, apprehensions, regrets and plans surrounding the reviews. These I didn’t find as enjoyable as the reviews themselves and thought they didn’t add to the strength of the book.
This is the thirtieth review I’ve done for Goodreads – a milestone for me - and it’s fitting that it’s about a collection of reviews. Ironically though, it’s made me acutely aware of how woefully inadequate my efforts tend to be.
I will never read most of the twenty books that make up the substance of Mantel Pieces but that doesn’t matter. Each review is a little jewel in itself - exhaustively researched and written in clean, lucid prose.
I found every review interesting, even if I thought the book itself wouldn’t be for me. For example, the first review was of Shere Hite’s 1988 effort 'Women and Love'. I’m familiar with Ms Hite’s work from the days when I worked in a bookstore, in California. Mantel nails Hite succinctly calling her work “an uneasy blend of prurience and pedantry”. Ouch! Or, iconoclastically titling the review of Chris Anderson’s book 'In Bed with Madonna' as 'Plain Girl’s Revenge Made Flesh'.
Where Mantel really shines is in her review of historical books like 'The Recockning: The Murder of Christopher Marlowe' by Charles Nicholl or 'Margaret Pole: The Countess in the Tower' by Susan Higginbotham where her expertise in English history promotes the subject admirably. But, there is something for everyone here: Britain’s Last Witch, on Devotion to the Blessed Mary and the still indigestible murder of James Bulger.
My favourite “piece” wasn’t a review at all but an essay called 'Meeting the Devil' written on the harrowing aftermath of her medical procedure. I can’t imagine a more intense, graphic telling. This is part of a series of diary writings that reflect on her experiences in Saudi Arabia and meeting her step-father, as well.
Each review is prefaced by some communication, a letter, postcard, fax or e-mail between Mantel and her editor, Mary-Kay Wilmers, which gives insight into her procedures, apprehensions, regrets and plans surrounding the reviews. These I didn’t find as enjoyable as the reviews themselves and thought they didn’t add to the strength of the book.
This is the thirtieth review I’ve done for Goodreads – a milestone for me - and it’s fitting that it’s about a collection of reviews. Ironically though, it’s made me acutely aware of how woefully inadequate my efforts tend to be.
June 27, 2022
I heard about this book from Rosamunde_Reads on Instagram and as someone who generally enjoys English history, I thought I would enjoy this book!
Mantel Pieces is basically a collection of essays – mostly book reviews but with at least one memoir piece – written by Hilary Mantel for the London Review of Books. Most of the books are about British history (no surprise here) and some pieces that stand out to me are:
The Murder of James Bulger – what does a murder and the children’s crusade have in common? The question ‘at what age are children responsible for the things they do, especially the horrific things they sometimes do’.
Britain’s Last Witch – on Helen Duncan’s life, and which reminded me of the chapter on folk magic from The History of English Magic (check title)
The Hair Shirt Sisterhood – on women saints and suffering. I was reminded a little of The Nun’s Tale by Candace Robb here, probably because of the description of how some of these women sought out suffering
Marian Devotion – on how the cult of Mary developed (and this is a book I would want to read)
On Charles Brandon – this essay stood out to me because I realised that while I enjoyed reading the review, it made me not want to read the book
Each review is pretty long but very comprehensive. If the topic is related to something Mantel experienced, she normally starts the review with an anecdote, and then rather comprehensively recaps the book, smoothly adding her opinions in along the way. Many times, other books are also referenced when relevant and I can see how each review takes a lot of work. Honestly, I really liked reading those reviews and it’s making me want to try this style – I doubt I can do it for all books, but maybe I should try to write one long-form review a month where I really engage with the book.
Sandwiched between each review is a letter or email or some form of communication between Mantel and the London Review of Books. I didn’t really understand what this was for – they didn’t seem to provide a lot of context to the pieces. Perhaps it was a “behind the scenes” sort of thing but I ended up skipping most of them (especially if it involved handwriting because I find it hard to read my own handwriting, let alone others).
Overall, I really enjoyed this collection! Because the reviews are so in-depth, I learnt quite a bit about various subjects. And I also found this to be a good opportunity to engage with longer essays – I find that I don’t have much patience for them when I’m reading on a computer screen, so reading on a kobo was a good alternative.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
Mantel Pieces is basically a collection of essays – mostly book reviews but with at least one memoir piece – written by Hilary Mantel for the London Review of Books. Most of the books are about British history (no surprise here) and some pieces that stand out to me are:
The Murder of James Bulger – what does a murder and the children’s crusade have in common? The question ‘at what age are children responsible for the things they do, especially the horrific things they sometimes do’.
Britain’s Last Witch – on Helen Duncan’s life, and which reminded me of the chapter on folk magic from The History of English Magic (check title)
The Hair Shirt Sisterhood – on women saints and suffering. I was reminded a little of The Nun’s Tale by Candace Robb here, probably because of the description of how some of these women sought out suffering
Marian Devotion – on how the cult of Mary developed (and this is a book I would want to read)
On Charles Brandon – this essay stood out to me because I realised that while I enjoyed reading the review, it made me not want to read the book
Each review is pretty long but very comprehensive. If the topic is related to something Mantel experienced, she normally starts the review with an anecdote, and then rather comprehensively recaps the book, smoothly adding her opinions in along the way. Many times, other books are also referenced when relevant and I can see how each review takes a lot of work. Honestly, I really liked reading those reviews and it’s making me want to try this style – I doubt I can do it for all books, but maybe I should try to write one long-form review a month where I really engage with the book.
Sandwiched between each review is a letter or email or some form of communication between Mantel and the London Review of Books. I didn’t really understand what this was for – they didn’t seem to provide a lot of context to the pieces. Perhaps it was a “behind the scenes” sort of thing but I ended up skipping most of them (especially if it involved handwriting because I find it hard to read my own handwriting, let alone others).
Overall, I really enjoyed this collection! Because the reviews are so in-depth, I learnt quite a bit about various subjects. And I also found this to be a good opportunity to engage with longer essays – I find that I don’t have much patience for them when I’m reading on a computer screen, so reading on a kobo was a good alternative.
This review was first posted at Eustea Reads
April 24, 2022
Hilary Mantel seems obsessed with bodies. Her body, saints’ bodies, royal bodies. Bodies.
Hilary Mantel also seems obsessed with history – French Revolution, the Tudors, Hellish Nell.
The most famous essay in this collection of pieces that Mantel wrote from the London Review of Books is Mantel’s “Royal Bodies”. The response to this essay was in part anger, in particular because of a description of Kate Middleton that describes as a “jointed doll on which certain rags are hung . . . a shop-window mannequin with no personality of her own, entirely define by what she wore” (269) and “Kate seems to have been selected for her role of princess because she was irreproachable: as painfully thin as anyone could wish” (271) and perhaps most damningly “What does Kate read? It’s a question” (271).
While this essay was written and published well before Meghan married Harry, Mantel’s comments about how Kate is perceived in some ways predict some of the vitriol directed toward Meghan (the majority of the vitriol can be “explained” by racism). A royal body, a female royal body, is only of interest because it is something that has no personality. Meghan has personality in spades. We know Meghan reads.
Mantel isn’t only damning about how royal bodies are viewed, but also about how they are written about. She described Jane Boleyn as written as Greogry as mincing. She has little truck with historical fiction writers who willfully disregard historic fact or play fast and loose with it. Mantel, it seems, really like Susan Higgenbottom.
Hilary Mantel also seems obsessed with history – French Revolution, the Tudors, Hellish Nell.
The most famous essay in this collection of pieces that Mantel wrote from the London Review of Books is Mantel’s “Royal Bodies”. The response to this essay was in part anger, in particular because of a description of Kate Middleton that describes as a “jointed doll on which certain rags are hung . . . a shop-window mannequin with no personality of her own, entirely define by what she wore” (269) and “Kate seems to have been selected for her role of princess because she was irreproachable: as painfully thin as anyone could wish” (271) and perhaps most damningly “What does Kate read? It’s a question” (271).
While this essay was written and published well before Meghan married Harry, Mantel’s comments about how Kate is perceived in some ways predict some of the vitriol directed toward Meghan (the majority of the vitriol can be “explained” by racism). A royal body, a female royal body, is only of interest because it is something that has no personality. Meghan has personality in spades. We know Meghan reads.
Mantel isn’t only damning about how royal bodies are viewed, but also about how they are written about. She described Jane Boleyn as written as Greogry as mincing. She has little truck with historical fiction writers who willfully disregard historic fact or play fast and loose with it. Mantel, it seems, really like Susan Higgenbottom.
November 29, 2022
MANTEL PIECES
This is a collection of Mantel’s book reviews for The London Review of books, with copies of Mantel’s letters and e-mails serving as chapter breaks between each approximately 10–15-page review. The correspondence is only occasionally interesting and often, due to print size or handwriting, barely legible.
The reviews themselves are also only occasionally interesting and are really sub-par as far as reviews go. The reviews got better as the book progressed chronologically with the ending ones, especially on Charles Brandon and Margaret Pole, the most engaging to me.
The major problem I had is that most of the books are not really reviews of the book Mantel is allegedly reviewing. Instead, each review is really more of an essay by Mantel with her take on the subject the reviewing book addresses. At the end of each review, I rarely had much of an idea about the quality of the book being reviewed, something I thought was the purpose of a review. If I did have an idea, it was secondary to the substantive information Mantel was transmitting in her essay/review
For some reason, Mantel’s failure to attain what I thought was the primary purpose of a review really bothered me and affected my ability to fully appreciate the information Mantel revealed in her essay/reviews. Perhaps I should be more tolerant of Mantel as she was only writing what the publisher wanted her to write. However, it still seemed so arrogant of her and lessened my appreciation for her as a writer. I rate the collection as 2-stars.
This is a collection of Mantel’s book reviews for The London Review of books, with copies of Mantel’s letters and e-mails serving as chapter breaks between each approximately 10–15-page review. The correspondence is only occasionally interesting and often, due to print size or handwriting, barely legible.
The reviews themselves are also only occasionally interesting and are really sub-par as far as reviews go. The reviews got better as the book progressed chronologically with the ending ones, especially on Charles Brandon and Margaret Pole, the most engaging to me.
The major problem I had is that most of the books are not really reviews of the book Mantel is allegedly reviewing. Instead, each review is really more of an essay by Mantel with her take on the subject the reviewing book addresses. At the end of each review, I rarely had much of an idea about the quality of the book being reviewed, something I thought was the purpose of a review. If I did have an idea, it was secondary to the substantive information Mantel was transmitting in her essay/review
For some reason, Mantel’s failure to attain what I thought was the primary purpose of a review really bothered me and affected my ability to fully appreciate the information Mantel revealed in her essay/reviews. Perhaps I should be more tolerant of Mantel as she was only writing what the publisher wanted her to write. However, it still seemed so arrogant of her and lessened my appreciation for her as a writer. I rate the collection as 2-stars.
December 18, 2020
Each article is an ornament to be treasured, even if the quality of craftsmanship differs. The early works boast structural integrity if not stylistic flair, while the later works transform this mantlepiece of Mantel's Pieces into an altar designed by Daedalus himself. How does Mantel do it? I'm in awe of her even if at times I don't quite understand her. And yes, the first two lines of my review is an attempt at irony on this precise point. A lot of these articles require a decent foundation in the subject to fully appreciate their meaning, which to us mere mortals is lost in translation. But, do you have to understand something to appreciate it? No one writes quite like Mantel, even when they try to for the sake of a Goodreads review (ahem) and I found myself more gripped than I was confused. Maybe it's just the mayhem of being a bookseller at Christmas that meant I couldn't quite wrap my head around all the detail she likes to throw onto the page and package in beautifully constructed metaphors and allegories. Maybe you need to re-read her for precisely this reason; Mantel loves hidden meanings and her talent matches her enthusiasm for making them. Maybe it all just comes down to this simple truth: that even if you don't understand something, you can still appreciate it. Like all great art, hey?
November 25, 2023
picked this up from the library on a whim and enjoyed this rather; everywhere Mantel is the model of good sense and considerable erudition. the pieces I liked best, though, were the pieces that stray slightly away from the scholarly path to deal in the stuff of life: the similarly titled "Meeting my Stepfather" and "Meeting the Devil" (not actually about the occult, but about Mantel's lucidly addled experience of illness - at one point she quite delightfully refers to the images she sees as "hallies"; they have, clearly, become a friend). in these pieces Mantel lets herself write and evoke a little more than she might have permitted herself in the book reviews the rest of this collection consists of, and the results are a lovely pastel beauty in the former piece and mordant insight in the latter. I've not read much else by Mantel, but on the evidence of these pieces I really should!
June 11, 2023
Hilary Mantel contributed reviews and other pieces to the London Review of Books for over thirty years and this collection provides an excellent introduction to her non-fiction writing, and, for that matter, the house style of the LRB. The fortnightly journal is one of the few remaining journalistic outlets for the long essay, and has a certain notoriety (not entirely undeserved) for its book reviews barely mentioning the book in question, the contributing writer instead being encouraged to write around the subject. This suited Mantel perfectly; incapable of writing a dull sentence, each review or other entry In Mantel Pieces is an object lesson in the art of the essay. Interspersed with published pieces are correspondence between the author and the LRB editors (first letters, then faxes and finally emails), which shed a fascinating light on the writing and editorial processes.
January 1, 2024
Hilary Mantel was and remains my favourite historic writer of all time, alongside Bernard Cornwell. Mantel Pieces is a series of refined and captivating essays by Mantel herself ( hence the title) covering everything from pop icon Madonna and Marie Antoinette, Tudor biographies to the Virgin Mary cult. All books that she reviewed with charismatic flair and the usual Mantel wit she carried in life.
Her essay “ Frocks And Shocks” on Jane Boleyn was one of my favourites, inviting us in to the world of the Tudor court during the rise and fall of Catherine Howard, Henry’s fifth wife. How Jane must have felt at her own downfall, it is unclear, but I love that Mantel, with rather a cold and unsympathetic view of the shamed Tudor women, plays into our suspicions and intrigue just as much as any other writer and historian out there. This is such a lovely taste of Mantel’s writing and you should all read it.
Her essay “ Frocks And Shocks” on Jane Boleyn was one of my favourites, inviting us in to the world of the Tudor court during the rise and fall of Catherine Howard, Henry’s fifth wife. How Jane must have felt at her own downfall, it is unclear, but I love that Mantel, with rather a cold and unsympathetic view of the shamed Tudor women, plays into our suspicions and intrigue just as much as any other writer and historian out there. This is such a lovely taste of Mantel’s writing and you should all read it.
December 5, 2024
These essays were erudite, easy flowing, and enjoyable to read in large format text instead of cramped on my phone like I normally absorb the LRB.
Mantel really does have a fascination with the biographies of Personages though, and that’s where my interest lagged. She was the only Person I came here for and she was far more interesting mulling over an idea, giving autobiographical snippets, and in the photocopies of emails and notes sent to the LRB interspersed through each chapter (a clever touch) than she was recapping yet another Tudor biography. Yes, I understand complaining about this is like going to the cheese factory and saying “wow that’s a lot of Gouda.”
Mantel really does have a fascination with the biographies of Personages though, and that’s where my interest lagged. She was the only Person I came here for and she was far more interesting mulling over an idea, giving autobiographical snippets, and in the photocopies of emails and notes sent to the LRB interspersed through each chapter (a clever touch) than she was recapping yet another Tudor biography. Yes, I understand complaining about this is like going to the cheese factory and saying “wow that’s a lot of Gouda.”
March 23, 2021
Ok, I got the point after chapter 3. Repetitive to the point of boredom. Just milking fame with a poorly assembled assortment.
September 16, 2023
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Mantel simply can’t miss. Absolutely a genius among her generation and a distinct voice in our literary world—I think I’d read every mundane note she’d ever penned if I could get my hands on all of it. This collection is witty without losing any strength in argument, and shows an interesting progression in her writing/attentions throughout her life
Read
March 30, 2021Mmm, so Royal Bodies is absolutely brilliant and I haven't got enough popcorn for the whole drama it created back in the day. Having arrived late to the whole WH party, this was quite a treat. Read it here https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v35/n...
As for the other pieces, some stood out, others I didn't really care about.
As for the other pieces, some stood out, others I didn't really care about.
January 22, 2021
Hilary Mantel is one of the greatest writers of the last 20 years, and her novels about Thomas Cromwell or the French Revolution, are amongst the best you can read in historical fiction. But how does a writer like her start ? How do you keep such a giant task for years and years and make a living in the meantime, before succes knocks on your door ? Well, apparently because some people believe in you. In Hilary’s case some people started offering her opportunities as a film columnist or as a literary reviewer, work she enthisiastically accepted; being paid to write is a great thing. But even amongst literary reviewers there is the bottom and there is the top, and when Hilary was offered to write reviews for the LRB, the London Review of Books, she reached the pinnacle of reviewing. Her second editor, Mary-Kay Wilmers, became a real patron and as she wrote her reviews she got better and better, and as she advanced through the Tudor’s and the French Revolutionaries she wrote many brilliant reviews, often of books that had something to do with these themes. In this book the best are republished, intermingled with mails and letters from Hilary to Mary-Kay and back.
As for the reviews, what a cannonade of intellectual masterpieces. I’ve read each and every one of them with ever increasing admiration and more important, interest. The piece about some of the figureheads of the French Revolution struck me most, with Robespierre, Danton, and most of all, Marie-Antoinette. Every review is brilliant though, and I was sorry the book was finished. So, if you like high-quality literary reviews, or if you like history, or if you like Wolf Hall and her other works, you should get this book. Every one of the reviews is a gem, in Hilary’s very recognisable and personal style, and it was almost as I heard her talking (I did listen to the Reith lectures where she explained about her writing, and all the time it was as if I could hear her voice). Brilliant.
As for the reviews, what a cannonade of intellectual masterpieces. I’ve read each and every one of them with ever increasing admiration and more important, interest. The piece about some of the figureheads of the French Revolution struck me most, with Robespierre, Danton, and most of all, Marie-Antoinette. Every review is brilliant though, and I was sorry the book was finished. So, if you like high-quality literary reviews, or if you like history, or if you like Wolf Hall and her other works, you should get this book. Every one of the reviews is a gem, in Hilary’s very recognisable and personal style, and it was almost as I heard her talking (I did listen to the Reith lectures where she explained about her writing, and all the time it was as if I could hear her voice). Brilliant.
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