The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Arts
Wednesday, November 18, 2020 — 11

BOOK REVIEW
‘The Mirror and the Light’ fits the political climate

Lana Del Rey and 
the mesh mask

Her head makes a dull thud 

as it hits the platform, rolling 
a couple feet away as her body 
teeters 
and 
lurches 
forward, 

swimming “in a pool of crimson, 
the blood seeping between the 
planks.” Queen Anne Boleyn, the 
second of King Henry VIII’s six 
wives, has just been executed on 
charges of high treason, incest 
and adultery. This is the note 
from 
which 
Hilary 
Mantel’s 

novel, “The Mirror & the Light,” 
kicks off. Mantel’s beautiful prose 
and attention to detail builds an 
immersive atmosphere, and her 
rich characterizations resurrect 
long-dead historical figures, their 
tics and quirks shining through 
to 
paint 
distinct 
portraits. 

Eight years in the making, “The 
Mirror and the Light” is the final 
installment of Mantel’s “Wolf 
Hall” trilogy, which documents 
the rise and fall of Thomas 
Cromwell, a blacksmith’s son from 
Putney who became King Henry 
VIII’s most trusted advisor, before 
being executed on charges of 
treason in 1540.

Thomas Cromwell is often 

snubbed by recorded history, 
which typically remembers him 
as a conniving, villainous and 
traitorous lackey of Henry VIII, 
and, indeed, in Mantel’s historical 
fiction trilogy, Cromwell has few 
friends and many enemies. But 
Mantel casts Thomas Cromwell in 

a less one-dimensional and more 
positive light, as an ambitious 
underdog 
trying 
to 
survive 

the whims of a murderously 
mercurial monarch. Eleven years 
after 
beginning 
this 
trilogy, 

Mantel’s grasp on Cromwell has 
ascended beyond that of a mere 
biographer. 
Mantel 
inhabits 

Cromwell’s 
psyche, 
wrestling 

with his doubts, fears, regrets 
and wishes, portraying them so 
convincingly that the reader takes 
on those same fears and wishes. 
The psychological portrait Mantel 
paints of Cromwell is absolutely 
mesmerizing, 
and 
it 
is 
the 

foundation of this tour de force of 
a novel. The reader chases after 
Cromwell as he tries to navigate a 
highly volatile political landscape, 
bodies dropping left and right. 

In spite of the details and 

outcome 
of 
Cromwell’s 
story 

being well known, Hilary Mantel 
manages to keep the reader on 
edge, constantly looking over 
their shoulder, waiting for the 
dagger 
to 
plunge 
into 
their 

back, as it inevitably will into 
Cromwell’s. She does this so well 
by constantly circling back to 
past grudges and mistakes, and 
keeping all those whom Cromwell 
has crossed within his immediate 
vicinity. As Cromwell continues 
to dance around the incompetent 
aristocracy around him, Mantel 
draws out the tension in every 
communication, setback and even 
victory over Cromwell’s enemies. 
She makes the reader well aware 
of the disgust Cromwell’s peers 

have for him and his lowly birth, 
hostility shining through word 
choice and descriptions. 

This 
sense 
of 
foreboding 

pervades every chapter, and what 
soon becomes clear is that time, 
whether it’s the past, present or 
future, is vindictive, and no one 
escapes its grasp. Mistakes of 
Thomas Cromwell’s past echo 
throughout the novel, and there’s 
a sense that he can never quite 
escape those he’s lost along his 
path to survival. Cromwell is a 
man of many talents, and tries 
to not focus on the past, but, 
unfortunately, “the past is always 
trickling under the soil, a slow 
leak you can’t trace.” Shadows of 
his deceased mentor, Cardinal 
Thomas Wolsey, flit across his 
memories at night; the oppressive 
presence of his abusive father 
looms over him in his darkest 
moments; 
memories 
of 
the 

warmth of his dead wife and 
daughter taunt him at his most 
emotionally 
vulnerable. 
“The 

dead,” Cromwell reflects, “are 
crowding us out.” The years weigh 
heavily upon Cromwell, and you, 
the reader, feel it.

But a few of Thomas Cromwell’s 

spectres are the same ones he 
sent to the grave himself. After 
Henry VIII grew tired of Queen 
Anne Boleyn and set his eyes 
on another woman (a pretty 
common 
occurrence 
for 
the 

king), Cromwell was the man 
tasked with trying to dissolve the 
marriage. Though the king was 
the one who wanted Anne dead, 

Cromwell was the one who helped 
build the case that resulted in the 
execution of her and several of 
her alleged lovers. Not only does 
Boleyn’s ghost haunt Cromwell’s 
conscience, but her former allies 
do as well.

Cromwell is keenly aware of 

this, and, even as he rises through 
the ranks of the English court, 
he’s never certain of when his sins 
will catch up to him. Even as he 
tries to temper Henry VIII’s worst 
impulses, there’s an uneasy sense 
that the ground could crumble 
beneath him at any moment. One 
slip up, one miscommunication, 
one failed alliance, and Cromwell 
might be on the chopping block 
himself. Mantel summons this 
fog of uncertainty by wielding the 
ambiguous motives of Cromwell’s 
peers to her advantage. With favor 
of the elite constantly shifting, it’s 
difficult for the reader not to feel 
as unsteady as Cromwell does.

It’s oddly reminiscent of our 

current political landscape, in 
which lives are subject to the 
whims of an unpredictable leader, 
and established officials are ousted 
day-by-day. As one of Cromwell’s 
allies puts it: “We both know what 
it is to serve this king. We know it 
is impossible. The question is, who 
can best endure impossibility?” 
It’s almost comforting, knowing 
that 
the 
turbulent 
times 

we’re 
currently 
experiencing 

aren’t 
unprecedented, 
but 

Mantel ruthlessly exploits the 
undercurrent of fear, engrossing 
the reader further in the story and 

driving home the consequences of 
such a turbulent atmosphere.

The 
fear 
isn’t 
unfounded, 

either. History tells us that the 
life of Thomas Cromwell does not 
end happily: After orchestrating 
Henry VIII’s third marriage, 
and then failing to dissolve that 
marriage when Henry found his 
bride 
unattractive, 
Cromwell 

is charged with treason, and 
sentenced to die. The reader knows 
this from the outset, and it’s just a 
matter of time until that actually 
happens and Cromwell falls from 
grace. The reader’s foreknowledge 
of his fate makes the last section 
of the book all the more poignant: 
After Thomas Cromwell, a nobody 
from nowhere, is made the Earl 
of Essex by the king, it seems that 
he has finally made it out of the 
woods. “He had thought the sands 
of time were running out: running 
through the cracks in the shining 
bowl of possibility he holds in his 

hands. ‘Now all is mended,’ he 
says.” Cromwell, after a lifetime 
of anxiety, would finally be able to 
focus solely on effecting change, 
rather than on merely surviving.

But history ripped the rug 

out from under him, and Mantel 
ensures her readers feel the force 
of that fall. Henry VIII orders 
Cromwell imprisoned, and the 
vultures who have been circling 
Cromwell the entirety of the 
novel are finally able to descend. 
It’s 
difficult 
not 
to 
admire 

Cromwell, so it’s devastating, even 
infuriating, when the futility of 
all his efforts becomes apparent. 
All of these elements — the 
atmospheric, the emotional, the 
political — coalesce into a gripping 
historical drama. Hilary Mantel 
had me enamored with this 
beautiful conclusion to her trilogy.

Daily Arts Writer Tate LaFrenier 

can be reached at tlafren@umich.
edu 

COMMUNITY CULTURE REVIEW
New York Times architecture critic 
talks social change at Taubman

Why does architecture need 

a critic? Intention is never 
outcome, 
and 
a 
building’s 

meaning is never fixed. As 
the stage for all of our lives, 
its subtle impacts can’t be 
overlooked. 
The 
Michigan 

Daily 
sat 
down 
virtually 

with 
Michael 
Kimmelman, 

architecture 
critic 
at 
the 

New 
York 
Times, 
to 
talk 

preservation and affordable 
housing ahead of his virtual 
visit 
to 
Taubman 
College 

Monday night as this year’s 
Raoul Wallenberg Lecturer. 

Starting off with the question 

of preservation — What is its 
value? What does it safeguard? 
In discussing a piece he wrote 
about the Strand Bookstore 
last year, Kimmelman said, 
“It’s not just the building itself 
— the container — but what it 
contains that is actually the 
repository of the community’s 
identity and memory.”

Now, 
Kimmelman 
isn’t 

discounting the look of a 
building — that’s obviously 
important. 
He 
brings 
up 

the 
issue, 
rather, 
because 

current preservation practice 
is 
centered 
around 
just 

that — cosmetics. The NYC 
Landmarks 
Preservation 

Commission, 
founded 
in 

1963, is, in his words, an 
“architectural 
bulwark” 

against alterations to its city’s 
historic facades. It lays no 
claim, however, to interiors nor 
the institutions that occupy 
them. 

On second thought, this 

makes sense. A government 
agency shouldn’t be playing 
favorites in the private sector. 
But Kimmelman points out 
that it’s not unprecedented nor 
nontraditional to the way our 
government functions on the 
level of the individual: 

“It’s 
really 
dangerous 

territory when the city begins 
to favor some kinds of private 
businesses over another, but 
we have to do it anyway, with 
tax incentives and other kinds 
of benefits,” he said.

“Places like San Francisco, 

where 
businesses 
are 
also 

threatened by runaway rental 
costs, have created funds and 
other mechanisms to provide 
a handful of businesses the 
opportunity of getting some 
assistance,” said Kimmelman. 
“It’s essentially intended to say 

to businesses on the cusp of 
closure, ‘we’ll give you enough 
to tide you over, but you’re 
not going to become a public 
institution.’”

Kimmelman 
is 
referring 

here 
to 
San 
Francisco’s 

Legacy Businesses Program 
started in 2015. Through it, 

businesses open 30 years or 
longer can apply for grants if 
they can also prove they’ve 
made “a significant impact 
on the history or culture of 
their neighborhood.” It’s by no 
means collusion, but it is a bit 
of favoritism.

Moving on to affordable 

housing, I told Kimmelman 
about Ann Arbor’s Proposal C 
on the ballot on election day. 
Prop. C was a one-mill property 
tax for the construction of 
approximately 1,500 units of 

affordable housing over the 
course of 20 years, and it passed 
with a 73% vote. In lieu of these 
promising results, I asked him 
if he thought New York City 
had sufficient rent-controlled 
and subsidized housing. 

“Well, that’s a short answer: 

no,” he said. Subsidized housing 
had been largely in the hands 
of private developers since the 
Nixon 
administration. 
This 

has 
undeniable 
advantages, 

but also makes public good 
dependent on private profit. 

In 
short, 
he 
eventually 

said, “we can’t continue to 
be in a situation where we 
don’t 
invest 
in 
affordable 

housing for people because the 
ramifications are enormous on 
the rest of the economy. Health 
problems, 
homelessness 

problems, problems of policing 
and 
crime, 
mental 
health 

problems…” the list goes on. 

Kimmelman 
has 
been 

waving the red flag on issues 
like these since his first piece 
under his current role in 2011 
called, “In a Bronx Complex, 
Doing 
Good 
Mixes 
With 

Looking Good.” In that piece, 
he wrote about Villa Verde, an 
unusual public housing project 
for 
its 
distinguished 
look, 

amenities like an on-site health 
clinic, and, correspondingly, a 
high cost per square foot.

Noble as its aims may have 

been, such expenditure didn’t 
come without criticism for 
the 252-unit complex in a 
neighborhood 
with 
66,450 

people per square mile — 
almost 40% living below the 
National Poverty Line.

“If 
you’re 
a 
housing 

advocate, and there’s such a 

shortage of housing, that extra 
money could have gone to 
more units instead of to better 
design. So there was some 
debate as to whether it was an 
efficient use of funds, I think 
there’s an argument that it 
was,” Kimmelman said.

The 
architects 
and 

developers wanted a project 
that 
signaled 
what 
public 

housing could be. Kimmelman 
suggests that it achieved that — 
it doesn’t blend into its context, 
it sits loudly at the foreground. 
It shows what happens when 
architects and developers meet 
community members where 
they are. As he says in the 
article, “What is that worth?”

Kimmelman acknowledges 

in his writing that architecture 
itself doesn’t solve poverty 
and unemployment. But it has 
immeasurable value in uplifting 
the spirit and instilling a sense 
of pride in place. This extends 
far beyond housing: “public 
space, streets, parks, schools, 
transportation… they all work 
together to provide a decent, 
healthy life for people,” he 
said.

Kimmelman will be speaking 

in greater depth on these issues 
Monday night at 6:00 p.m. 
with Taubman College Dean 
Jonathan Massey as well as 
the college’s Dimensions and 
Agora student publications. As 
the Wallenberg lecturer, the 
conversation will be centered 
on “architecture as a humane 
social art.” Registration is free 
and open to the public via this 
link.

Daily Arts Writer Ben Vassar 

can be reached at benvas@
umich.edu 

TATE LAFRENIER

Daily Arts Writer

BEN VASSAR
Daily Arts Writer

We can’t continue 

to be in a 

situation where 
we don’t invest 
in affordable 
housing for 

people, because 
the ramifications 
are enourmous 
on the rest of the 

economy.

MUSIC NOTEBOOK

MADELEINE GANNON

Daily Arts Writer

Editor’s 
note: 
Del 
Rey 

responded on Nov. 17 to clarify 
that the mask worn during the 
book signing included a plastic 
lining. Her response can be found 
on Twitter.

It all started at a book signing 

in Los Angeles, Calif., where 
pop icon Lana Del Rey read 
passages of her new poetry 
book, “Violets Bent Backwards 
Over the Grass.” 

Pictured on Twitter: Lana 

Del Rey in a mesh face mask. 
Then all hell broke loose. 

In a move surprising to none, 

criticism from fans came down 
hard and fast. Most (if not all) 
of the comments emphasized 
the irresponsibility of Del Rey’s 
choice of mask during a global 
pandemic. The nature of the 
event made the incident more 
incriminating –– a book signing 
by nature involves intimate 
one-on-one social interaction, 
and multiple photos of Del Rey 
posing with fans only added fuel 
to the fire. Swift as a California 
forest fire, Del Rey’s Twitter 
fans tore her down. 

Here, 
a 
familiar 
pattern 

breaks 
out: 
cancel 
culture. 

Social media has allowed a 
system of extremes to develop, 
an 
environment 
where 

declarations of allegiance are a 
necessity to claim “citizenship” 
of “woke culture.” If you don’t 
love somebody, you have to 
hate somebody –– the middle 
ground is no longer acceptable. 
Judgement calls can be made 
by anyone, anywhere, anytime. 
Online platforms act as personal 
megaphones. Often, the loudest 
voices are not the most accurate 
voices. And when it comes time 
to bring the gavel down and 
mete out justice, it becomes the 
shot heard around the world. 

Can 
we 
still 
love 
our 

icons 
when 
they 
become 

“problematic?” This is often 
asked in a global culture which 
is increasingly black-and-white 
when it comes to identifying 
what behavior is right and what 
behavior is wrong. Questions 
whispered 
in 
layered 
guilt 

by fans who have found their 
favorite icons suddenly struck 
from favor. In a way, online 
justice 
feels 
as 
fickle 
and 

unyielding as that of an emperor 
or king.

Now, Del Rey stands before 

the chopping block, and her 
legions of fans watch in fear and 

anticipation to see if her “head 
will roll” next. Does a mesh mask 
disqualify her from our love? 
It seems such an insignificant 
misstep for an idol who the 
world has cherished for so long. 
But the pandemic has killed 
hundreds of thousands of people 
–– a number so large, it seems 
unfathomable. Mask etiquette 
has become synonymous with 
compassion, intelligence and 
human 
decency. 
Del 
Rey’s 

fashion choice feels like a slap 
in the face for those who have 
been intimately hurt by COVID-
19 and for those who wear their 
masks without issue. Celebrity 
status does not exclude Del Rey 
from responsibility. 

Other 
whispers 
online 

have suggested that Del Rey 
glamorizes abusive and toxic 
relationships; 
some 
have 

accused the artist of being a 
secret 
“Trump 
supporter,” 

going so far as to say that Del 
Rey’s American vintage style 
is indicative of her personal 
politics (“Harken, ye old glory 
days”). However, all of these 
accusations and musings on 
the internet are just that –– 
whispers. One can’t help but 
wonder if fans and critics alike 
are simply fishing for some fresh 
meat to bite. With tensions high 
and safety protocols demanding 
frequent isolation, the spotlight 
turned towards the internet. 
Everyone loves a good Twitter 
fight, too. 

Should Del Rey be deemed 

“problematic” by the “high 
courts” of the internet? Do we 
abandon her completely? Do we 
shun her music and her poetry? 
Does 
this 
become 
a 
hard 

break-up, with deleted phone 
numbers and zero contact? Or 
is it a cowardly retreat, where 
Del Rey is publicly shamed and 
ostracized in daylight while the 
world continues to indulge in 
her music as a guilty pleasure.

This article poses a lot of 

questions, I know. Cancel culture 
paints itself as progressive and 
self-reflective: On the positive 
side, society has learned to hold 
the powerful accountable, to 
critique the heroes and reflect 
on how their larger-than-life 
reputations 
actively 
shape 

reality; on the other hand, 
cancel culture can be trigger-
happy, overeager to place blame 
while 
enabling 
(sometimes 

anonymous) 
individuals 
to 

boost their own egos by tearing 

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