Dogmatism vs. Open-Mindedness Theme Analysis

While Thomas Cromwell has to face many who oppose him, the character whom he crosses paths—and ideas—with most frequently is Thomas More, King Henry VIII’s Lord Chancellor. More’s uncompromising certainty in Catholic doctrine comes across as violent and deranged fanaticism. Cromwell, on the other hand, has a pragmatic and open attitude to ideas that are different from his own. In contrasting these two men, Mantel elevates open-mindedness over dogmatism and suggests that Cromwell’s receptive attitude is what helps him adapt to new situations and empathize with people who are different from him.

Cromwell’s open-mindedness is one of the attributes that sets him apart from More, who is very set in his ways. The first time in the novel that Cromwell thinks of More, he brings up this basic difference in their natures. Cromwell wonders why “everything [More] know[s], and everything [he’s] learned, [seems to] confirm” his old beliefs, while, in Cromwell’s case, his beliefs are “chipped away a little and a little, a fragment then a piece then a piece more.” In other words, the more that Cromwell learns and experiences, the more he finds himself questioning his previously held ideas. For Cromwell, with the passing of time, “the corners are knocked off the certainties of this world: and the next world too.” Cromwell acknowledges that he is no longer sure about the validity of religious teachings, which turns into the biggest point of contention between these two characters. More is passionate about guarding traditional Catholic doctrine from any changes, while Cromwell questions its merit and is unopposed to declaring King Henry the head of a new church if that will be a solution to the problem at hand. 

Empathy for people different from himself is also a key part of Cromwell’s rise. For instance, Cromwell’s wife Liz tells him one evening that if King Henry discards Queen Katherine to marry a younger woman, “all women everywhere in England” will be against it, especially women “who have a daughter but no son.” Later, Cromwell thinks about why Liz would bother thinking about these women, since she herself has a son. He thinks that it’s possibly “something women do: spend time imagining what it’s like to be each other,” and he decides that “One can learn from that.” Cromwell values Liz’s empathy and is shown to display similar empathy for people very unlike him. For instance, even when he hears of King Henry’s desire for Anne Boleyn, he doesn’t focus on the monarch’s willfulness or his demands that holy law be rewritten for him. Cromwell’s first thought is that it must be frustrating for the king to “[find] himself at every turn impeded,” since Henry is unable to do what he wants to do. Cromwell’s empathy makes him a good listener when people confide in him—even when those people are behaving in seemingly unreasonable ways.

In contrast to More who has spent his entire life among people like himself, Cromwell has traveled and experienced many life situations and careers. This broad experience comes across as a virtue, portraying him as a man of modern sensibility with an open outlook rather than a person who is convinced his way is the best. Cromwell begins life as a blacksmith’s son in Putney, England, but he ends up traveling around Europe after he runs away. He has a range of life experiences, from being a soldier fighting in abysmal conditions in France, to working among cloth traders in Antwerp, to working as a banker in Florence. As a result of his diverse experiences, Cromwell “is at home in courtroom or waterfront, bishop’s palace or inn yard. He can draft a contract, train a falcon, draw a map, stop a street fight, furnish a house and fix a jury.” A man of many talents, he remains open to the idea that he always has more to learn.

More, on the other hand, sounds one note—that of religious fundamentalism. His limited life experience is reflected in his limited imagination. He is furious when Catholic laws are broken, but he doesn’t seem to consider why or even if they might be worthy of his fury. For instance, More detests Tyndale, who has translated the New Testament into English, since the Catholic Church believes that the Bible was supposed to be written only in Latin. While Cromwell has a copy of Tyndale’s Bible and enjoys reading it in secret, which demonstrates his ability to think clearly for himself, More brands Tyndale a heretic and wants to imprison him—without even reading the book.

Mantel shows that fanaticism and unquestioning certainty like More’s can be dangerous since it can lead to death and violence. In order to maintain the doctrines of Catholicism, More has no qualms about outing people as heretics and burning them. In contrast, Cromwell has a deep antipathy to violence in the name of religion. As a boy, he witnessed an old Loller woman being burned for opposing Catholicism, and the gruesome image has stuck with him through the years. He remembers the two monks who led the woman to the stake, “parading like fat gray rats, crosses in their pink paws.” Another woman in the crowd is pleased that the Loller will pay and she screams in triumph, “in a shrill voice like a demon.” The hypocrisy and cruelty of that moment stick with Cromwell and he recalls that as a child, his “fear [was] too great” to oppose what had transpired. However, as an adult, he is no longer voiceless, and he often tries to talk More out of violence in the name of religion.

Cromwell’s open-mindedness makes him come across as a much more humane character than More, whose dogmatism makes him seem unthinking and cruel. Through this contrast, Mantel champions Cromwell’s empathy and open-mindedness and suggests that such qualities are the only way for humanity to avoid senseless violence.