Charles O'Brien, the Giant, leaves 1780s Ireland for London because he can no longer survive in his home country as a traveling storyteller and physical curiosity. He travels with a ragtag retinue of friends to London to make his way as a one-man circus show. But the condition which causes his great size is also weakening him rapidly, and soon he comes to the attention of cold, sinister, Dr Hunter, a scientist and body-snatcher, dying of syphilis from an inoculation experiment gone wrong.
This story, which holds to the light the uncomfortable pivot point between faith and reason, the body and the soul, the modern and the mythical, gave me greater sympathy for Mantel as a writer. It's lonely being a non-fan of the Wolf Hall novels, but I now have a better handle (I think) on her fascination with characters caught straddling disparate worlds.
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