In writing what purports to be the ‘true’ autobiographical account of Elizabeth Macarthur -wife of Australia’s first wool baron- Grenville has actually created a gripping meditation on power in the late 18th century. Women’s power (or lack of it) features strongly, especially with regards to dominion over her own body. The one time a young Elizabeth feels and exercises her own sexual power she becomes pregnant, and marriage to the boorish, insensitive John MacArthur becomes an inevitability. Power over her own body is further diminished: “As a wife, with nowhere to go beyond wifedom, I was no more than a tenant in my body. If the landlord came to the door, I was obliged to let him in.”

During the course of her marriage Elizabeth does however learn subtle ways to manipulate the actions of her unbalanced bully of a husband. And within the confines of the life made by her husband, she creates her own life and finds, as a wise woman once said to her, “A woman can do many things, but she has to bide her time.”

The Elizabeth Macarthur of Grenville’s imagination is such good company; wry, funny, unflinchingly honest yet compassionate. Her voice stays with you well beyond the final pages of the book. But what really resonates is the injustice of the most unrelenting loss of power in the early days of colonial Australia; that of its original inhabitants.

A Room Made of Leaves is a beautiful and haunting piece of historical fiction. 4.5 stars.

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The Mirror and the Light is the third and final instalment in Hilary Mantel’s award winning reimagining of the life of Thomas Crowmwell. You know this one is going to end badly but it takes a really long time to reach the inevitable; 875 pages from the death of Anne Boleyn to Cromwell’s own.

I grew tired of it about two thirds of the way through. I’m not ruling out the possibility that I was just sick of lugging it around and trying to prop it up with numerous pillows to read it in bed; its sheer size makes it the literary equivalent of a ball and chain. After all, there is no doubt Mantel is a brilliant writer. Cromwell’s wry observations of the humans around him, both noble and lowly, and the gulf between what he thinks and what he says are beautifully evocative illustrations of his character. He even starts writing a handbook about how to handle the King but eventually burns it, knowing it could get him burned, which says everything you need to know about his relationship with the King. As the Spanish ambassador Chapuys observes: “Henry is a man of great endowments, lacking only consistency, reason and sense.” Cromwell is all too aware of the dangers of being close to Henry; he is after all the one who arranges his marriages and then contrives to rid Henry of his brides when he tires of them; and yet he cannot move away. He knows Henry may turn on him at any moment but he doesn’t quite believe it, until it happens. After his arrest he understands “all he can do is comply with Henry exactly, til his killing fit passes.”

Cromwell’s end, when it comes, is quite moving, but it takes a very long time coming. I much prefer Mantel’s shorter, sharper Bring Up the Bodies. 3.5 stars.

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The Vanderbilt name summons images of unimaginable riches, but Alva did not come from money, or at least by the time she was looking to marry in the late 1800’s the family money was all but gone. Her family had a respectable name but it was clear to Alva that she had to marry well or she and her sisters faced the kind of ruin that meant ladies would have to go to work. During her marriage to William Vanderbilt Alva helped to manoeuvre the family into the New York high society they were so desperate to impress, and she built a lot of buildings.

Fowler portrays her as a fair woman, ahead of her times in terms of thinking about racial equality and women’s rights. The assumptions of her class and material privilege do however occasionally make themselves apparent. When Alva wishes to make more New York more like Paris, with stunning buildings designed to lift the spirits of even the poorest citizen, she conceives of a plan for each family within the Vanderbilts to contruct a magnificent home for themselves in the city. Presumably this is so the poor can come and look at the outside of the building, and feel uplifted and inspired. Because they sure as hell won’t be getting inside.

Alva eventually divorced Vanderbilt with a remarkably good settlement granting her money and the children. Such a settlement was unheard of at the time, and a testament to Alva’s intelligence. She went on to marry for love and eventually became a leading sufferagette.

Such an interesting life deserves the intimate insight of Fowler gives it.  I didn’t love this one quite as much as Z but still it’s am absorbing and interesting read.

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Tombland is set in 1549, two years after the death of Henry VIII. The Protector Edward Seymour rules the kingdom in the name of the eleven year old King. The economy is quite a mess, ravaged by inflation and a brutal and ill-considered war against Scotland. The poor are getting poorer, soldiers are deserting the army in record numbers, the art and traditions of old religion are being systematically destroyed and everyone’s dissatified.

Shardlake meanwhile is doing what he does best; investigating a nasty murder at the behest of a powerful patron, in this case the King’s half sister, Elizabeth. The accused murderer is the husband of the victim, a Boleyn distantly related to Elizabeth. So Shardlake diligently sets off to find out what he can with the assistance of old friends (yay for Jack Barak, the thinking woman’s bit of rough), but along the way they get entangled in a rebellion and the majority of the novel takes place in a rebel camp. The longer the rebellion continues the more thoroughly Shardlake sympathises with the rebels’ demands for fair use of common land and restraints on the abuse of power by the ruling class. But this is England in 1549, and really that’s never going to happen. We’re all just waiting for the inevitable and bloody government-sanctioned violence against the rebels to explode. The build up is intense but amidst the chaos Shardlake somehow manages to solve the murder, which puts his own life in significant peril. When the battle finally commences Sansom manages to convey the full horror of it and its bloody, putrid, disturbing aftermath.

At more than 800 pages, Tombland is a handy doorstop of a novel, but somehow Sansom manages to keep it interesting. There is perhaps a little repetitive monotony in the days and days Shardlake spends waking up in the rebel camp and reporting on the weather and exactly what was eaten for dinner (note- it’s always pottage), but at no point did I want to stop reading. I don’t know quite how Samson does it, but in Shardlake he has created such an intelligent and compassionate character it is compelling just to witness how he survives and even manages to protect others in the brutal and unsympathetic times in which he lives. Tombland is a worthy inclusion in the excellent Shardlake series; hopefully is won’t be its conclusion.

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The ending is a little predictable, but the path to get there is believable and absorbing.

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