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The Giant, O’Brien

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2018
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The Giant, O’Brien
Hilary Mantel

Charles O’Brien, bard and giant. The cynical are moved by his flights of romance; the craven stirred by his tales of epic deeds. But what of his own story as he is led from Ireland to seek his fortune beyond the seas in England?The Surprising Irish Giant may be the sensation of the season but only his compatriots seem to attend to his mythic powers of invention. A motley court surrounds him: slow witted Jankin; the thrusting Claffey brothers; sharp-tongued Bride Claskey, the procuress. None so low as Bitch Mary, and none so opportunistic as impressario Joe Vance, yet London shall make its mark on them all.Just bodies. But even dead, London shall have them. John Hunter, celebrated surgeon and anatomist, buys dead men from the gallows and babies’ corpses by the inch. Where is a man to hide his bones when he is yet alive?The Giant, O’ Brien is an unforgettable novel; lyrical, shocking and spliced with black comedy.

The Giant, O’Brien

Hilary Mantel

For Lesley Glaister

…But then

All crib from skulls and bones who push the pen. Readers crave bodies. We’re the resurrection men.

George MacBeth, The Cleaver Garden’

Table of Contents

Cover Page (#u0ab8b5c4-ddca-5647-b811-c680b19fcca9)

Title Page (#ue623779f-c19f-51e6-877a-4e2705df09a1)

Epigraph (#u1b8f83ea-1724-5c63-b684-123cb817946b)

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Note (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt from Wolf Hall by Hilary Mantel (#litres_trial_promo)

Praise (#litres_trial_promo)

By the same author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

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‘Bring in the cows now. Time to shut up for the night.’

There came three cows, breathing in the near-dark: swishing with the tips of their tails, their bones showing through hide. They set down their hoofs among the men, jostling. Flames from the fire danced in their eyes. Through the open door, the moon sailed against the mountain.

‘Or O’Shea will have them away over the hill,’ Connor said. Connor was their host. ‘Three cows my grandfather had of his grandfather. Never a night goes by that he doesn’t look to get the debt paid.’

‘An old quarrel,’ Claffey said. They’re the best.’

Pybus spat. ‘O’Shea, he’d grudge you the earache. If you’d a boil he’d grudge it you. His soul is as narrow as a needle.’

‘Look now, Connor,’ the Giant said. His tone was interested. ‘What’d you do if you had four cows?’

‘I can only dream of it,’ Connor said.

‘But for house-room?’

Connor shrugged. ‘They’d have to come in just the same.’

‘What if you’d six cows?’

The men would be further off the fire,’ Claffey said.

‘What if you’d ten cows?’

The cows would come in and the men would squat outside,’ said Pybus.

Connor nodded. ‘That’s true.’

The Giant laughed. ‘A fine host you are. The men would squat outside!’

‘We’d be safe enough out there,’ Claffey said. ‘O’Shea may want interest on the debt, but he’d never steal away a tribe of men.’

‘Such men as we,’ said Pybus.

Said Jankin, ‘What’s interest?’
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