My maternal grandmother was an ardent monarchist, as was her younger sister. Indeed, they spent many an hour in the 70s and 80s discussing the comings and goings of the Royal Family, to the extent that it was almost as though they knew them personally, especially the minor royals for whom they had a particular penchant. Angus Ogilvie and Princess Marina, anybody?
It was so normalised for me that I thought most households read Majesty magazine, and on the council estate on which I grew up, a love for ‘Royalty’ was not incongruous at all with the Labour-stronghold the town had, even among the largely Mancunian-Irish community it served.
However, as I became a teenager, fell in love with The Smiths and worshipped at the shrine of Morrissey, I proudly bought ‘The Queen is Dead’ LP and paraded around in the infamous T-shirt. Tellingly, I never did this in front of Gran, who would have given me a slap across the legs if she had but seen it. Nevertheless, despite wearing such garb and quoting the Smiths lyrics at anyone who would listen, I still had a penchant for the gossip surrounding Diana and Charles’s marriage. Moreover, my attempts at Republicanism in the late 80s were mainly to avert the sneers of my ‘anarchist’ peers at Oxford, most of whom ended up as accountants or marketing executives. Power to the people…
Now, with my Smiths T-shirt long gone, and my devotion to Morrissey also resigned to history, I find myself looking forward to the coronation of King Charles III with a surprising amount of anticipatory joy, as an antidote to the sadness of the Queen’s death and its aftermath. Like many of my colleagues, I was extremely affected by Her Majesty’s death, and I had tears in my eyes as the white staff was broken over the royal coffin, signifying the end of an era as well as a monarch. Also, I have watched, like so many others, as Charles et al have been eviscerated by their nearest and dearest and have joined in ‘water cooler’ debates as to the whether or not ‘H and M’ will attend the ceremony or not- stop press, we now know Harry will attend, but not Meghan. I have also found myself supporting the use of the term ‘Queen’ for Camilla, quoting royal protocol on such matters as if I were Ingrid Seward myself.
Ultimately, outside of the gossip, what is most exciting about it all for me is the ceremony and the historical significance of this coronation, albeit one that we know already is going to be scaled-back and lacking in some of the extravagance of the last coronation in 1953. I have only seen snippets of that coronation, with the young Queen’s serenity and sense of duty shining through the celluloid. However, I fully intend to watch the whole kit and caboodle for this one, from the ‘celebrity watching’, to the Coronation Procession at the end. I know that as a history nerd, I will enjoy the sense of antiquity that the coronation will evoke, with its use of ancient artefacts and arcane symbols that many of us watching may not fully understand, but still be carried along by a sense of awe and the numinous.
I have never thought of my adult self as a traditionalist as such, but I am starting to revel in the insights into the ceremony on television and online and have already Googled the music that will be played during the service. Goodbye, ‘The Queen is Dead’ and hello, ‘Zadok the Priest’.