The idea of creation in the novel is interesting, but I found the story dull for some reason. It's like 100 pages longer than it needs to be.

This book has many elements that I love. I love history and fairy stories and science. The story is told in two alternating parts. One is about the Irish giant O'Brien, which is largely fictional because the actual giant had a pituitary tumor and was mentally disabled. The other story is that of John Hunter, scientist, doctor, and anatomist. Somehow the tone of the story is cold and not engaging in general, especially when she is telling the giant's side of the story. There are some lovely fairy tales, but not enough. The story comes alive when she talks about John Hunter, maybe because she is describing him accurately and he is a fascinating figure. I think I would have liked the book better had there been much less giant and much more Hunter. I also feel that she didn't do much with her theme of the lyrical poetry and wordsmithery of the Irish versus the cold dispassionate science of England. But she did capture the misery of the Irish when confronted with the cold blooded brutality of their treatment by the English.

I'm sad - this was...odd...

3.5

Pretty good

Hilary Mantel's books are challenging: impressionistic, often brutal, and written in intense third-person-limited (dual narrators in this one); I think "Wolf Hall" is the most difficult contemporary novel I have ever read. I have felt with each of them the need to give myself over completely to the text and surrender any preconceived notions of How Novels Are. This one reads like a dark fairy tale of knowledge hard-won and inevitable. I saw strong parallels to "Frankenstein," one of my favorite novels. Mantel takes me out of my comfort zone as a reader, and I find it oddly rewarding.

I really enjoyed this book. The portrayals of the two main characters: Charles O'Brien, the eight foot storyteller, and John Hunter, the creepy anatomist, were both incredibly vivid and poignant.

Mantel tells stories in a completely different way from most writers. She ignores typically necessary description or characterization and instead makes her characters vast, complex landscapes. Reading her books can be frustrating, but also illuminating.

Another excellent thing about this book is the way that it juxtaposes the world of imagination and storytelling and the Enlightenment world of science and experimentation. Neither is superior, and you see both a little differently.

You know when you're driving a long distance and you suddenly realise that you've gone 20 to 30 miles with no recollection of the journey. It's like that with Mantel's books. This one was no different.

Bleugh