The Mirror and the Light (2020)

The Mirror and the Light (2020), by Hilary Mantel, concludes the trilogy of historical novels about Thomas Cromwell,  chief minister to Henry VIII of England. It lives up in every way to the high standards set in the previous two novels, Wolf Hall (2009) and Bring Up the Bodies (2012), earning straight 5's in my five criteria. The gap between 2nd and 3rd novels has been much longer than the three years between 1st and 2nd, even though it covers a period of only four years. 

Those were Cromwell's last four years in this life, of course, which filled them with dramatic tensions that Mantel captures so expertly. More childhood back-story is included, as well, which seemed appropriate as Cromwell progressed into later middle age. As Henry descended into a mid-life crisis that became dangerous to all around him, Cromwell meditated on the personal history that shaped him and brought to the position of second-most-powerful person in England, before it was all suddenly snatched away.

It's probably just me and/or the recent times we've been living through in the US, but it seemed that as the events of 1536-1540 unfolded in the novel's pages, Mantel's portrayal of Henry VIII's reign came more and more to resemble the presidency of Donald Trump, which has been unfolding in parallel with the end of her writing about Henry. And Cromwell's ultimate failure to please his king could be compared to numerous appointees who departed the administration because they failed to please Trump. Fortunately, their penalties for failure did not include beheading. 

The First Conspiracy: The Secret Plot to Kill George Washington

The First Conspiracy: The Secret Plot to Kill George Washington (2019) is a work of history by Brad Meltzer and Josh Mensch. Far from the stereotypically dry history tome, however, this book reads like a fast-paced historical wartime spy novel. Amazon's descriptive blurb says:

Taking place during the most critical period of our nation’s birth, The First Conspiracy tells a remarkable and previously untold piece of American history that not only reveals George Washington’s character, but also illuminates the origins of America’s counterintelligence movement that led to the modern day CIA.

The heart of the narrative takes place during the year-plus that newly-appointed commander General George Washington spent in New York City, 1775-76, preparing for the inevitable and overwhelming British assault against his ragtag Continental Army.

As if that weren't daunting enough, Washington learns of a treasonous plot within his own elite guard unit. The ensuing effort to expose the traitors and foil the plot has enough surprising twists-and-turns to satisfy the most demanding spy novel fan. New York legislator John Jay leads the investigation, and in the process lays the groundwork for future counterespionage and counterintelligence agencies in the US. Well-written and researched, and highly recommended.

Note: a good chronological follow-up to this history would be Washington's Spies: The Story of America's First Spy Ring, by Alexander Rose, which was adapted into the AMC TV series Turn: Washington's Spies.

Island of the Mad (2018), by Laurie R. King

Island of the Mad is the fifteenth and latest (2018) novel by Laurie R. King featuring her lead character Mary Russell as partner (both marital and investigative) of Sherlock Holmes. The series, which began more than twenty years ago, has always attracted (most) Holmes fans, but this one includes a healthy dose of history as well.

It's 1925, and a missing-person case takes the sleuthing duo to Venice. Mussolini had recently taken power in Italy, and his all-black-clad police were in evidence. In a subplot, brother Mycroft has asked Sherlock to do some casual spying to determine the country's mood under the new fascist regime. As a national-security adviser to Downing Street, Mycroft is concerned about similar sentiments beginning to be felt in Britain--beginning with the "British Fascisti" established in 1923 by Rotha Lintorn-Orman.

While Mussolini was still getting started, the real 1920s action in Venice was the social scene, led by American expats Elsa Maxwell and Mr. and Mrs. Cole Porter. All three are substantial characters in the novel. Several historical Venice locales have important roles, including the beach-resort island of Lido with its Hotel Excelsior, and the extravagant palazzo Ca' Rezzonico, rented by the Porters when in Venice--now a museum. Also, before leaving for Venice, Mary and Sherlock paid a visit to Bethlem Royal Hospital in south London, the fourth iteration of the infamous "Bedlam" (now housing the Imperial War Museum).

No criteria rating for this one--the Mary Russell novels are not intended to be read as historical fiction. My gratitude to author Laurie King, however, for investing enough research time to give the novel a surprisingly large dose of historical interest and authenticity.

For another history-lite but well-written novel set in the same milieu, Try The Girl From Venice (2016), by Martin Cruz Smith.

Justinian (1998), by H. N. Turteltaub

Justinian is an earlier historical novel by Harry Turtledove, under his favorite nom-de-plume. The summary below, from Library Journal, gives the basics.

Written four years before the first book of the Hellenic Traders series, Justinian lacks several elements that make those books so enjoyable. Mainly, it's the character of Justinian, whose lack of depth offers little insight into the bases of his unpleasant personality. As noted above, the "asides" of the faithful soldier Myakes are better, but still lacking depth. Development of an author's writing skills from one book to the next is interesting to track and, although the newer Greek novels are much better than Justinian, this earlier effort is still worth reading for the hist-fict fan.   

The five criteria:

1. Did the novel inspire me to further historical research?

Yes. This was my first novel set during the Byzantine Empire - not because it's an uninteresting historical period, but because I've found no other such novels. If nothing else, the development of the mighty imperial city of Constantinople from the earlier Byzantium would be a good subject for someone like Edward Rutherfurd (we can hope).
Score = 5

2. Did the novel include enough history to make it an interesting historical story?

Yes. The author's ability to read the original Greek was undoubtedly helpful. More detail would, however, have made the descriptions more compelling - even if it had to be based largely on educated conjecture.
Score = 4

3. Was the depiction of historical events accurate?

Yes. The history is well-researched, although the lack of detail and/or embellishment makes it somewhat dry.
Score = 4

4. Was the depiction of historical characters accurate?

Yes, as far as it goes. The author notes that little can be learned from the historical record about the lives of the principal figures of this era, which seems odd after the literary outpouring of the earlier Roman era.
Score = 4

5. Were the fictional or fictionalized plot and characters plausible?

Maybe. Justinian himself is the least plausible. It's hard to believe that he could have been as single-minded and lacking in self-doubt as he is portrayed. For me, Robert Graves' fictionalized Claudius remains the gold standard of hist-fict character development, and Justinian could have been more interesting with some of that psychological speculation.
Score = 3

From Library Journal

While not as well known as his namesake, the Byzantine emperor Justinian I, Justinian II certainly bears investigating. Treacherous, vicious, driven, and self-serving, Justinian took the throne in 685 at the age of 15. Overthrown in 695, he was cruelly mutilated and exiled across the Black Sea, where he languished for years with his bodyguard Myakes as his only companion. Although the bulk of the story is told from Justinian's point of view, the more interesting bits are found in the asides by Myakes, who, after the death of his emperor, was blinded and sent to a monastery. In spite of lengthy and tedious descriptions of military campaigns and an underpopulated cast of characters, the reader is drawn into a Byzantine world where the glory of God and the glory of earthly power are two sides of a glittering gold coin. Turteltaub is the pseudonym of sf author Harry Turtledove.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Conclave, by Robert Harris (2016)

Conclave is not a typical historical novel. Although there's a historical background for the novel's fictional events, the events themselves are presented as present-day. Historical characters are also used to provide historical background, but none appear in the story's events. The setting (Vatican City in Rome) is certainly steeped in history, as are all the myriad details of the process by which the Church of Rome elects a new Pope - known as a conclave.

The novel's structure is more that of a crime/mystery novel. Like Harris' earlier An Officer and a Spy, the main protagonist is faced with a mystery (several interconnected mysteries, actually) whose successive solutions build to a dramatic climax, followed by the denouement. Agatha Christie would be proud.

The investigator is the Dean of the College of Cardinals, the Vatican official charged with running the papal election. No spoilers here, so suffice it to say that the mysteries involve the various leading papal candidates, and the writing is so skillful that it's unlikely readers will see the surprise ending coming.

The five criteria:

1. Did the novel inspire me to further historical research?

Yes. No matter how you feel about the Church, its byzantine history makes for great storytelling. More than historical events, however, Conclave made me want to visit Rome again.
Score = 4

2. Did the novel include enough history to make it an interesting historical story?

Yes. Harris provides a wealth of historical background that makes the fictional characters and conclave events seem entirely plausible.
Score = 5

3. Was the depiction of historical events accurate?

Yes. Harris was granted extensive access to the people and places inside the Vatican, which he turned into accurate detailed descriptions of papal elections past and (fictional) present.
Score = 5

4. Was the depiction of historical characters accurate?

Yes. None of them were more than background, however, so not much detail was required. Many readers will prefer this approach to the type of historical novel where the writer has to invent fictional dialog for historical characters.
Score = 4

5. Were the fictional or fictionalized plot and characters plausible?

Yes, very plausible, although becoming progressively more unlikely as the drama builds toward its climax.
Score = 5

Helenic Traders series (2002-2015), by H. N. Turteltaub

Until recently better known to me as the science fiction writer Harry Turtledove, H. N. Turteltaub (one of several pen names) is a fine historical novelist. In the four-book Hellenic Traders series, two cousins from the isle of Rhodes sail (and row) the Mediterranean in pursuit of trading profit, finding adventure and meeting many people both famous and infamous.

1. Over the Wine Dark Sea (2002). Set in the year 310 BC, cousins Menedemos (captain) and Sostratos (supercargo) embark from Rhodes with a hold full of luxury goods, including a troublesome but rare and therefore valuable peacock and several hens. Menedemos, though not a scholar, loves to quote from Homer - hence the novel's title. Menedemos is also the more amorous of the two, with a particular weakness for other men's wives.

Quieter and more introspective, Sostratos has studied in Athens at the feet of successors to Aristotle, and loves to confound his more traditional cousin with "scientific" ideas. Dialogues between the two give Turteltaub opportunities for exposition on ancient Greek philosophers and historians.

Those were perilous times for traders, with warfare between two or more of the generals (collectively known to scholars as the Diodochi) who had divided the extensive empire of the departed (323 BC) Alexander the Great. Even more dangerous for sea traders, the general disorder had allowed pirates to flourish all over the eastern Mediterranean. The traders discover that things are no better in the west, when they reach the Bay of Naples just in time to be attacked by part of a Roman flotilla on its way to raid Samnite-held Pompeii. Deciding, after a perilous escape, against proceeding farther north, the cousins head back south to go back around the horn of Italy - just in time to become embroiled in the siege of Syracuse (Sicily) by Carthage, in the Third Sicilian War.

2. The Gryphon's Skull (2002).  In the following sailing season, spring of 309 BC, the cousins set out again from Rhodes, with a new cargo of Rhodian perfume, silk from Cos, wine from Chios, and Palestinian balsam obtained from Phoenician traders. Soon added to the normal trade goods is something Sostratos finds irresistible - the fossilized skull of a horned dinosaur. Having no knowledge of either dinosaurs or fossilization, Sostratos theorizes that the skull might have belonged to the legendary Gryphon. Since no one has seen such a thing, Sostratos resolves to take the skull to Athens, to hear what the great philosophers think of it.

War, in this year between Diodochi rivals Antigonus and Ptolemy, again adds danger to the voyage, along with the ever-present pirates. Circumstances conspire to prevent the traders from reaching Athens, but the resourceful cousins still survive several scrapes and still manage to return home with a tidy profit.

3. The Sacred Land (2003). Dealings and conversations with a Phoenician trader living in Rhodes convince the cousins that their next trading voyage should head south and east to trade with the Phoenicians at their home port city of Sidon. Sostratus prepares by learning some of the Aramaic language spoken in that country. Once there, Menedemos trades in the local markets of Sidon while Sostratos mounts an overland expedition to the territory of the mysterious and insular Ioudaians (Judeans), to trade for rare and expensive balsam. The journey leads to Jerusalem and on to Engedi, an oasis at the southern end of the Dead Sea, where the best balsam is grown and processed. Adventures ensue, and readers are introduced to another corner of the ancient Greek world.

4. Owls to Athens (2015). The title is the ancient Greek equivalent of "coal to Newcastle" or "ice to Eskimos". Also, a bit of a pun - the coins minted in Athens at that time featured the image of an owl. In this fourth sailing season of the series, the cousins finally reach Athens, where Sostratos studied philosophy for a time before economics required him to return to Rhodes and take his place in the family trading business. Most of this novel takes place in Athens, where the cousins witness a sudden and nearly bloodless invasion by the forces of Antigonos, who seize the ancient city from the rival general Cassander. Once again, the cousins navigate the perilous times and return successfully to Rhodes with a cargo of silver profits.

Expecting more entries in this series, possibly culminating with the 305-304 BC siege of Rhodes. All 4s and 5s in the '5 criteria' so far.

The Bronze God of Rhodes (1960), by L. Sprague de Camp

Even though it's a relatively old novel, I was excited to discover The Bronze God of Rhodes, by L. Sprague de Camp - for two reasons. First: its subject had only recently caught my interest. Second: I knew de Camp as a very good science fiction writer, and so expected to also find a very good historical fiction writer. I was not disappointed.
My interest in the post-Alexander history of Rhodes was roused while reading The Seven Wonders and Wrath of the Furies, by Steven Saylor. Those novels included a brief recounting of how the city of Rhodes (capital of the island of the same name) successfully withstood a multi-year siege, then erected the world's largest statue in honor of the sun god Helios. The statue became known as the Colossus of Rhodes, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.

The novel's protagonist is a sculptor named Chares, creator of the Colossus. Chares was a real person, though little is known about him apart from his famous creation. That makes him a perfect historical fiction character and first-person narrator, leaving the author free to invent a history and personality for him. De Camp does something with the Chares character I've seen in no other novel.

The narration is written as a memoir by a man of middle-age, but as Chares returns to the days of his youth to begin, he also returns to his youthful personality: brash, boastful, arrogant, impatient. The transformation was so convincing that, for the first couple of chapters, I wasn't sure I could tolerate Chares for an entire novel. Experience humbles and matures him, however, as it (hopefully) does to all of us.

The introduction by Harry Turtledove (another fine science fiction writer) ends with the information that he too has written historical fiction set in the same era - more titles for my wishlist.

This novel aced the five criteria:

1. Did the novel inspire me to further historical research?

Yes. At a minimum, the Turtledove novels seem worthy of a read. Maybe it's time also to move a bit farther back in history to Alexander the Great.
Score = 5

2. Did the novel include enough history to make it an interesting historical story?

Yes. The siege of Rhodes (305 BC) is the main historical event, but many preceding and corollary events are described as well, fitting the Rhodian events into their context. In addition, the plot contrives to send Chares on several trips away from Rhodes, notably to Egypt. The itinerary of travels there is very similar to that in the Saylor novels, leading me to wonder if perhaps this novel provided a partial plot model for Saylor.
Score = 5

3. Was the depiction of historical events accurate?

Yes. The farther back in history you go, the less reliable documentation you find. Anything before late Republican Rome is very misty indeed. That said, the novel doesn't stray from known events, or manipulate dates unnecessarily. Settings and speculations seem plausible. There's lots of interesting info on the evolving technology of the time. The lengthy Author's Note following the novel adds a lot of background history that didn't make it directly into the story.
Score = 5

4. Was the depiction of historical characters accurate?

Who knows? Let's say they seem entirely plausible, with the usual caveat about imposing modern thinking on ancient characters - which is unavoidable. The large cast of characters includes many historical names, although most - including the protagonist/narrator, are supported by very little historical evidence.
Score = 5

5. Were the fictional or fictionalized plot and characters plausible?

Yes. Nothing in the story caused me to question the author's grasp on the history. Can't ask for more than that.
Score = 5

The Last King (2004), by Michael Curtis Ford

The Last King, subtitled Rome's Greatest Enemy, is a clever bit of titling misdirection. This fictionalized biography of Mithridates VI, 6th King of Pontus by that name, is told from the viewpoint of his illegitimate son Pharnaces. Spoiler alert: the last King of Pontus was Pharnaces; not his father.

As noted in the review of Wrath of the Furies, by Steven Saylor, that book inspired me to read more about Mithridates and his multiple rebellions against Rome in the 1st century BC. This novel was a good find, and the first I've read by Michael Curtis Ford. Somewhat in the Bernard Cornwell school - heavy on battlefield gore and glory, Ford failed to match Cornwell's depth of research and historical detail but delivered a good read and a credible plot. The reader's feelings toward Mithridates evolve along with his son's - from absolute devotion to creeping doubt to recognition of the ultimate futility of 25 years of near continuous warfare against the Roman armies that never stopped coming.

The historical Pharnaces apparently failed to learn that lesson, however. Despite this novel's narrative of increasing disillusionment, the son led his own rebellion against Rome a few years later, only to meet Rome's greatest general - Julius Caesar. Caesar's crushing defeat of the last King of Pontus yielded his famously terse post-campaign report: "Veni, vidi, vici" (I came, I saw, I conquered).

The early sources for information on Mithridates VI are mostly Roman, and suffer from the normal cultural biases. When writing about formidable enemies, two standard slants were 1) the enemy's total barbarism and depravity (contrasted with the wholesome heroism of opposing Romans), and 2) his freakish physical abilities (how else could he have lasted so long against far-superior Romans?).

Ford chooses to split the difference in his portrait of Mithridates. While painting a more sympathetic picture of the King than Roman authors, he goes all in for the nearly superhuman abilities. For a heroic-protagonist sort of novel, that's standard stuff, so no discredit to the author.

The five criteria:

1. Did the novel inspire me to further historical research?

Yes. I found a recent biography of Mithridates: The Poison King, by Adrienne Mayor. Also, I picked up Mary Beard's SPQR, a concise and thoughtful 1-volume history of ancient Rome (highly recommended).
Score = 5

2. Did the novel include enough history to make it an interesting historical story?

Yes. Rather battle-heavy, as noted, and with little detail on anyone outside Mithridates' inner circle.
Score = 3

3. Was the depiction of historical events accurate?

Basically. The names and dates are drawn mainly from early Roman writings, as noted in the author's Acknowledgements. More attention to archaeology could have improved the accuracy of many details. For instance, Ford commits the movie-Roman sin of depicting Republic-era soldiers as wearing "Imperial Gallic" helmets (with red horsehair crests), that weren't adopted until after Julius Caesar.

The Poison King alerted me to a few places where Ford made artistic choices not necessarily supported by fact. One such is a scene where Mithridates and the remnants of his army elude the pursuing Romans by traversing a region of sheer cliffs bordering the eastern end of the Black Sea. Although it's possible that they took that route, Mayor argues convincingly that it was unlikely.

In Ford's narrative of that treacherous crossing, an event occurs that contradicts historical evidence. Mithridates' "Amazon" companion Hypsicratea falls into a glacial crevasse and perishes. Mayor notes, however, that her name appears inscribed on a stone monument years later. These are minor liberties, however, that take little away from the overall veracity.

A more intriguing speculation from Mayor, that would have fit right into Ford's novel, is the idea that Pharnaces conspired to fake his father's death and spirit him away to safety in the north. It makes a much more romantic end to the story of the unconquered king who defied the Romans for so many years, as opposed to the standard tale that Pharnaces revolted and offed dear old dad (or allowed him to kill himself).
Score = 3

4. Was the depiction of historical characters accurate?

Probably not, but who knows? Roman generals are universally depicted as sneering, insulting and cruel. Mithridates is caring and heroic. Standard 20th-century-Anglo novel types throughout.
Score = 3

5. Were the fictional or fictionalized plot and characters plausible?

Mostly. Pharnaces is a credible son wanting to be like Dad. Motivations given are not improbable. Overall, not bad as Roman novels go (admittedly a low bar).
Score = 4

Wrath of the Furies (2016), by Steven Saylor

The third novel in Steven Saylor's trilogy A Novel of the Ancient World is titled Wrath of the Furies. The earlier two, reviewed here previously, were The Seven Wonders (2012), and Raiders of the Nile (2014).

The end of book two left the young Gordianus living a low-key twenty-something life in Alexandria, in love with his beautiful slave Bethesda. Lured by a cryptic message hinting at danger to his old tutor Antipater, Gordianus and Bethesda set out on a ship to Ephesus (on the west coast of modern Turkey).

The ship makes a stop at the island of Rhodes, where Gordianus looks up a friend of Antipater who hosted the pair during their earlier adventures in The Seven Wonders. Here the stage is set for later skull-and-dagger work, as a fellow house-guest is revealed to be Gaius Cassius Longinus (later an assassin of Julius Caesar). Cassius is on a fact-finding mission from Rome, and wants to know what Mithridates is doing. He recruits Gordianus to be eyes-and-ears while in Ephesus.

So off they sail again, arriving at Ephesus just in time to become involved in one of the most dramatic and tragic incidents of the late Roman Republic. King Mithridates VI (the Great) of Pontus had recently rebelled against Roman control of Asia Minor, sweeping west and south through the Roman-controlled cities along the coast of modern-day Turkey.  On a single day, Mithridates orchestrated the slaughter of an estimated 80,000-150,000 Romans living in a number of those cities, including Ephesus. The incident is opaquely known as the Asiatic Vespers.

Redundancy in names and events make it difficult to keep the facts straight. The massacre occurred during the first of three wars between Rome and Mithridates VI, and many Kings of Pontus took the name Mithridates. The King's wife at this time was Monime, third of six wives (long before Henry VIII). There were also a number of royal concubines and a total of well over twenty children - including three named Mithridates.

In this climactic installment, Saylor includes all the history that was missing from Raiders of the Nile. That makes it - from a history geek's perspective - a much weightier and more satisfying read. I read the Kindle version, which was attractive and well produced.

The 5 criteria:

1. Did the novel inspire me to further historical research?

Yes. First, by returning to Roman history, I was inspired to pick up a new one-volume history of ancient Rome, SPQR by Mary Beard. Second, Mithridates VI is such a fascinating character that I picked up a recent (2010) biography titled The Poison King, by Adrienne Mayor.
    Score = 5

2. Did the novel include enough history to make it an interesting historical story?

Yes. Most of it is concentrated in the city of Ephesus, but is set within the larger story of Mithridates VI.
    Score = 5

3. Was the depiction of historical events accurate?

Yes, at least in the big picture. It's a novel, so there's a lot of speculation and invention in descriptions of smaller-scale events. Saylor is always scrupulous to make sure artistic license doesn't get carried away. Also helpful (as always) is the Author's Note at the end, which lists a number of ancient sources.
    Score = 5

4. Was the depiction of historical characters accurate?

Yes, as far as is known. None of the historical character are central except the poet Antipater of Sidon, who was also a main supporting character in The Seven Wonders. King Mithridates, his queen Monime, and the captive Egyptian prince Ptolemy all have speaking roles. Others are mere cameos, necessary to complete the historical record but remaining in the background.
    Score = 4 (it's nearly impossible to get a 5 here when the subject is ancient Rome)

5. Were the fictional or fictionalized plot and characters plausible?

Barely. Plausible characters are not Saylor's strongest suit, especially his main protagonist Gordianus. He often seems unbelievably dense and gullible, especially in these novels of his younger days, but does provide occasional comic relief. The improbable plans and motivations of Gordianus give rise to implausible plot developments, but it's all in good fun, and Saylor doesn't mess with the history.
    Score = 3 

A Place of Greater Safety, by Hilary Mantel (1992)

A common habit among fiction readers is, when impressed by one novel, to seek out others by the same author. That process, after greatly enjoying Wolf Hall and Bring Out the Bodies, led to A Place of Greater Safety, Hilary Mantel's earlier novel of the French Revolution. 

Seeking out earlier work can be a risky proposition; authors often need several tries before finding their mature voices. Such was not the case, however, with this novel. Mantel had already penned eight previous novels, and her character-focused style was already in full flower.

The French Revolution is a perfect subject for Mantel, who loves to develop characters. Indeed, there are so many varied and interesting characters that the reader can be overwhelmed. The extensive Cast Of Characters section at the end is very helpful in that regard. Also confusing is the way characters changed roles as the revolution progressed. One year's hero often became the next year's traitor and guillotine victim. Again, the Cast of Characters helps by noting these changing circumstances. Following that is a short list of characters who survived past 1794.

There was a point, about a quarter of the way in, when it seemed that Mantel's fictionalized French characters bordered on British caricature. I was reminded of the scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail when the questing knights approach an unknown castle, to find it occupied by unknown defenders. Using their best parodies of French-accented English, the defenders challenge the approaching party. Puzzled, King Arthur asks "What are you, then?" To which the reply is "I'm French! Why do you think I have this outrageous accent, you silly king?"

Anyway, that impression soon passed as the characters' non-Anglo thinking and behavior settled into the rhythm of the story. And what a story it is! The bloody lunacy of the French Revolution was, in a way, a foreshadowing of the madness to come in the 20th century.

Note: this review is based on the Kindle version, which is nicely done and a bargain at $4.95.

The five criteria:

1. Did the novel inspire me to further historical research?

Yes, especially the people. For starters, I sought out a biography (My Lady Scandalous, by Jo Manning) of the mysterious courtesan Grace Elliott, purported to be a British spy. The bio shed no light on the truth of that claim, but provided some interesting social history background. Many of the other characters merit similar exploration.

Mantel herself, in her Author's Note (a much-appreciated feature, as always), apologizes for the brevity of space devoted to Dr. Marat, who (she says) deserves his own novel (here's hoping that happens).

Score = 5

2. Did the novel include enough history to make it an interesting historical story?

Yes, although the focus is necessarily very narrow, and events outside of Paris get mentioned only in passing, if at all. For example, the revolutionary/reactionary wars between France and its neighbors are simply topics discussed in Paris, usually less interesting to the principal characters than the day's debates in the Committees.

Score = 4

3. Was the depiction of historical events accurate?

Yes, it seems so - as far as possible. The author notes the uncertainty surrounding those times, especially with regards to characters never prominent before the Revolution. Mantel's research is typically very thorough. and this novel is no exception.

Score = 5

4. Was the depiction of historical characters accurate?

Yes - as far as possible. Even less is known about the historical characters than about the events. The author takes responsibility for her portrayals, made even more challenging by the lack of major fictional characters. Among historical novelists, I rate Hilary Mantel #1 in character development, and her Danton, Camille, Robespierre and many others (including many fascinating women) really come alive. If the real people weren't much like Mantel's characters, they should have been.

Update: this novel inspired me to re-read the grandfather of all French Revolution novels - Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities. Mantel pays homage to Dickens by including in her novel two of his famous fictional characters - Monsieur Defarge the wine-shop keeper, and his wife who non-stop knits into her never-finished work the names of those she judges worthy of death.

Score = 4

5. Were the fictional or fictionalized plot and characters plausible?

There's so little of this that the question may not have much relevance. The one area where plausibility usually suffers in historical character portrayals is motivation. We know at least some of what they did, but very little of the why. Mantel always does a commendable job with characters, making them as complex, contradictory, and maddening as real people.

Score = 5