Fludd - Hilary Mantel

At this early point, the topography of the village of Fetherhoughton may repay consideration. So may the manners, customs, and dress of its inhabitants.
The village lay in a moorland, which ringed it on three sides. The surrounding hills, from the village streets, looked like the hunched and bristling back of a sleeping dog. Let sleeping dogs lie, was the attitude of the people; for they hated nature. They turned their faces in the fourth direction, to the road and the railway that ledt them to the black heart of the industrial north: to Manchester, to Wigan, to Liverpool. They were not townspeople; they had none of their curiosity. They were not country people; they could tell a cow from a sheep, but it was not their business. Cotton was their business, and had been for nearly a century. There were three mills, but there were no cogs and shawls; there was nothing picturesque.

Fresh, original and filled with humor--what more do you need in a book? Mantel is a very gifted writer who creates a magical tale. Whimsical characters fill a small English town with a new twist on every page. An unusual new priest with a mysterious background intrigues the parishioners. The search for meaning in life is expressed in a fable-like fashion. Most fun to read.