Late, But Finally Onboard

I may be the only English-speaking human on the planet that has not been able to read Hilary Mantel’s two award-winning historical novels.  For some reason I get bogged down fifty pages in and I’m done.  That’s unusual for me; I’m pretty good (some would say too good) at pushing through reading discomfort.  So when Mantel’s new collection of stories, The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher, was highly recommended to me by trusted sources I was concerned that once again I would find myself alone off the Mantel bandwagon.

But these stories are highly polished gems.  They’re not short versions of yet-to-be-written novels.  They’re really stories that work on their own terms.  They’re done when they’re done.  The language is highly calculated but not contrived.  No more is said than needs to be said, and often what’s not said (and left ambiguous) is the just as important.  These are not avant-garde DFW stories, but they’re not in the traditionalist Alice Munro mold either.  They are adventuresome, fresh, and unique in their own ways.  I even like the book’s typography: the abundance of white space nicely reflects the open-ended nature of the stories.  Lots of space to do your own thinking.

The stories with tricky or punchy endings are less successful.  The best ones lead the reader to places, times, and characters with contradictions and unanswered questions.  My favorite is probably “Sorry To Disturb”, but “Harley Street” and “How Shall I Know You?” are very good indeed.  And the title story, though entirely improbable, is deliciously executed.  Savor every sentence.  The ending is masterful.

There are only ten stories, none of them very long, but just about the entire collections is worth rereading.  I find myself thinking about them at odd moments, and I have already gone back to reread a few.

Time to give Wolf Hall another go?