Quick: where were you when the Pope came to Ireland? Me, I’ve got no idea. Before I’m excommunicated, I should point out that’s because I’m not Irish, and wasn’t living in Ireland at the time of the papal visit.
Ask me, though, where I was for the Queen’s Silver Jublilee (two years before all Irish babies started being called John Paul) or where I was for Charles and Diana’s wedding, and I’m sorted. I can describe the bunting, my dress (no, I wasn’t invited, but that didn’t stop me dressing up), our village street party, the works.
Here’s the thing. I’m not Royalist, but I’m hugely pro big, communal events. It’s a relatively unfashionable stance, but I ADORE those nation-binding moments. The non-demonstrative English most often break down the reserve (and break down) at sporting events. Jonny Wilkinson’s last-ditch drop kick in the Rugby World Cup. Tiny Michael Owen’s mazy run against Argentina in 1998 (if only I’d had to Google that date; but alas, no). These are times when we drop our polite ‘each wo/man is an island’ masks and stand together, roaring our heads off. For me, nothing can beat that sort of collective emotion.
It’s something I’ve always liked about weddings, too. Whenever I’m on my way to a wedding, I think about all the other people who’ve woken up that morning and thought, ‘today I’m going to see X&X get married’. There’s something incredibly rousing about the collective spirit, the joint goodwill. I have no idea why it moves me so much, but it always has.
All together now...
(image c/o scripting.com)
God, even at the London marathon a couple of weeks ago, 24 miles in and feeling as if I was encased in a steel tube, I looked around at the crowds yelling encouragement at hordes of random strangers, heard the band playing (yes, really) and beamed a Cheshire cat grin of ‘I’m bloody DOING this’. Running long distances is the world’s dullest thing, usually. Running long distances with 40,000 other people and a crowd of probably double that is incredibly uplifting (though not so uplifting that I’d ever want to do it again).
It’s in that same vein that I’m looking forward to the Big Day today. I’m hardly going to be in my wedding finery, and I’m certainly not going to be down at Trafalgar Square, but it’s an Occasion, one that nobody is escaping, cynical or not. In this day and age, there’s a lot to be said for that.
Anthea McTeirnan
Croí na Duibhlinn
Aoife Barry
Aoife McLysaght
Arlene Hunt
Attracta McCarthy-McKenna
clairehennessy
Ann Cronin
Amanda Brown
Eleanor Fitzsimons
Edel Coffey
Anna Carey
Lauren Murphy
Jennie Ridyard
Jude Leavy
Hazel Katherine Larkin
Léan Ní Chuilleanáin
Leigh
Lisa McInerney
Laura Slattery
Maman Poulet
Megan McGurk
Clare Kleinedler
Molly
Rosita Boland
Catherine Crichton
Sinéad Gleeson
sarahefranklin
siobhandowling
Susan Daly
theantiroom
Nuala Ní Chonchúir
Here’s the thing. I’m not Royalist, but I’m hugely pro big, communal events.
And what exactly is “communal” about a Royal Wedding? The King of Bahrain is taking a break from slaughtering his subjects who would like a democracy and attending: Gordon Brown is not invited, too lower-class and plebby.
The Metropolitan Police have banned public protest of the Royal Wedding in London.
The Royal Family is a crapulant excresence on the face of the nation and ought to be abolished: the Royal Wedding is a stinking pile of liquid dogshit with a flower stuck in to it.
I’m with you.
Celebrating communally is great fun, joyous and essential in the face of all the other crap we deal with all the time. I’m up at 4:30 a.m. NY time to watch the wedding and enjoy the festivities at a distance. Life is plenty hard enough for many people these days as it is.
I wholeheartedly concur (but hadn’t thought about it so eloquently!)
Herr Hitler’s Nuremburg Rallies created something of the same communal feeling. You can tell from photographs of lynchings that they, too, had a powerful bonding effect on almost all of the participants. I think the nature of the occasion is pretty crucial to its value and that there’s absolutely nothing inherently good about “big, communal events.”
I’m having trouble. I am a republican. I would like them to wrap up the whole thing and transfer it back to a Royal Castle where they can play princes and princesses to the content of their families, friends and followers. But I do like occasions, gold carriages , horses and dressing up. And I do like the music. So far I have resisted all temptation and the other house occupants are crammed together in front of their own set. Don’t be silly, I am told. But principles are principles and I’m holding on
Every time I turned on the radio or TV yesterday I got the royal wedding in the ear. Seeing as royalty are parasitic vermin who live in unimaginable opulence while automatically assume that they’re inherently better than everyone around them; that they are living embodiments of a class system that takes blood and heredity as a defining feature of social standing; and that if you go back far enough in history you’ll find that royals were essentially warring chieftains who stole the produce of others and killed anyone who didn’t kowtow to them; after all this, I find it baffling that people who have none of the luxuries and privilege that these toffs assume as their birthright are so interested in watching them get married, especially in a country that’s supposed to be a republic. It’s also fascinating to see the pomp and spectacle of a royal wedding at a time when the Tories are savaging public services and plunging thousands into misery and grinding poverty while their mates in the business and banking world continue to rake in profits and bonuses. It’s bloody disgusting, to be honest, and I can’t understand how anyone could watch it without feeling sick.
Typo in the third sentence: should be “automatically assuming”.
Hello all – apologies for the slow response here. I’ve been trapped in my tiara and unable to get out until now.
Terrifically interesting responses, as ever. The royal wedding appeared to be one of those polemical subjects, which is probably unsurprising. I can only speak personally, of course, but for me, the very fact that I felt caught up in it was what I had wanted to explore further. It certainly wouldn’t be my usual cup of tea but, like I said, communal events do have this sort of effect on me.
I absolutely agree that inciting a crowd is the sort of power that can be used for evil as well as good; and the hordes of people in Washington DC on Sunday and Monday are very probably case in point here too. It just appears to be a certain kind of human nature to want to connect with other people around big events; some are repulsed, some are mesmerised.
I don’t know whether any of the commenters *can* remember where they were for the papal visit, but my guess was that that’s the equivalent Irish ‘landmark’. Please feel free to correct me…