We played hooky today. The only time I spent with a device today was right away this morning when I lied to the girls' teachers and told them that of course we were going to be working today. It's been cold and raining for the last four-ish days. Today was sunny and 70. We're all out of the office today. Sorry. Not sorry. When you go to the lake on a Tuesday, you get the beach to yourself. It was glorious.
Now that everyone has scrubbed of the sand and I have applied half a bottle of aloe gel to the places I apparently forgot to apply sunscreen, I'm going to curl up with some tea and contine on with Lord Cromwell. However, it feels like Bring Up the Bodies would be a more fitting book today.
"I filled his treasury, made his coinage sound; I packed off his old wife and got him a new one of his choosing; while I did this I soothed his temper and told him jokes. If like a princess in a fairy tale I could have spun a babe from straw, I would have worked a year of nights. But he has his prince now. He has paid a price for him, but good fortune never comes free. It is time he knew that; it is time he grew up."
I've said it before and I'll say it again - I think Mantel paints the most complex and human portrait of Henry VIII of any author, EVER.
"Henry's eyes are on his portrait of himself, massive, on t he wall of the chamber. His own eyes consult the image of his master 'What should I want with the Emperor, were he emperor of all the world? Your Majesty is the only prince. The mirror and the light of other kings.'
Henry repeats the phrase, as if cherishing it: the mirror and the light. He says, 'You know, Crumb, I may from time to time reprove you. I may belittle you. I may even speak roughly.'
He bows.
'It is for show,' Henry says. 'So they think we are divided. But take it in good part. Whatever you hear, at home or abroad, I repose my faith in you.'
Anyone else feel like Cromwell should know better than to believe Henry.