Give one man the task of defining Britishness in three hours to the rest of the world, and asking him to do so in a fashion that won't leave everybody thinking, 'yeah yeah yeah, but it was shit compared to Beijing', and you've given him a hell of a bloody job.
Danny Boyle is to be hugely congratulated, and probably honoured in time, for the show he put together. We couldn't do the type of thing Beijing did - we're not that sort of country, we're not that sort of people, and we certainly can't throw the kind of money and resources at it that they did. He'd made it clear this was to be a celebration of British culture, particularly music, and an inclusive ceremony, which it certainly was.
There were moments, of course, that must have entirely baffled the rest of the world - indeed, the first thing I did when I came back from the friends' house where I'd watched it was check out some of the reaction from the Washington Post, the New York Times etc. They freely admitted that, even with their crib notes, some of the sections, particularly during the history of music bit, left them baffled as to what the hell was going on. But in anything that British, that was inevitable - giant-headed punks on bouncy metal legs moshing to the Sex Pistols - you don't get that in Atlanta or Beijing.
There were moments of great beauty - if there's been a more splendid torch lighting at one of these ceremonies, I can't remember it. There was some excellent comedy - I can't stand Mr Bean, but his little moment during Chariots of Fire was genuinely funny.
Surely, though, surely, most notable was the moment that left me at least gaping in shock. It's her. No, it's not her, it's a look-alike. "Good evening, Mr Bond." Fuck a duck - it's the bloody Queen! In a Bond film! An unbelievable moment, and I can't be the only person who wondered who first pitched that to her, and how. Fair play to her for agreeing to do it.
In the end, though you could never expect us to compete with the Chinese for spectacle, I thought Boyle recognised that and realised it had to be different. The only thing which went noticeably wrong was McCartney's apparent inability to hear his own monitor and ballsing up the first few bars of Hey Jude. I suspect Boyle would have taken that if he'd been offered it at the start. Ultimately he, and all the volunteers and performers, did us proud on this most British of evenings.
Similarly British was the bump with which we've come back to Earth on the opening day of the Games, of course, with the cyclists who did Britain so proudly in the Tour de France unable to dominate the road race with just four men and no other countries prepared to work at the front of the peloton, and Cavendish's medal hopes disappearing once again. A great shame for him, and we finish the first post-ceremony day of actual sport without a medal*.
*That's medal, the noun. It's not a verb - I repeat, NOT a verb. Don't even get me started on that...
Showing posts with label the Queen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Queen. Show all posts
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Wednesday, 27 June 2012
The price of peace
So the Queen has begun a historic visit to Northern Ireland, the main talking point of which seems to be the fact that she'll shake the hand of deputy First Minister Martin McGuinness. I can understand why so much focus has been on this upcoming moment - various journalists have alleged in the past that, not only was he active in the IRA, but he was a member of their seven-man Army Council. The IRA, of course, claimed responsibility for the bomb which killed the Duke of Edinburgh's uncle Louis Mountbatten, and two children, in 1979. So she may well understand all too well that there are plenty of people who have lost loved ones to terrorist actions who will be less than happy with this.
It's therefore a lot easier for me, as somebody who's never been in that position, to say this. But this is, I think, part of the price that has to be paid, and will continue to have to be, to bring about an end to the Troubles. If McGuinness, Gerry Adams and the like had not realised that the way to secure their ends was through the ballot box and not through terrorism, and if the governments on both sides of the Irish Sea had not been prepared to be particularly forgiving of what had been done in the name of 'freedom', there'd have been no Good Friday Agreement. Perhaps things would never have changed.
If Martin McGuinness and Ian Paisley, for example, can put aside years of mutual hatred and suspicion, and work within a political framework that seemed impossible when I was growing up, then that price has been, for me, worth paying. Anybody who lost somebody in the bombings of Enniskillen, or my home city of Brighton, or anywhere else that suffered during the Troubles, may of course feel very differently, and I'm in absolutely no position to tell them they're wrong.
It's therefore a lot easier for me, as somebody who's never been in that position, to say this. But this is, I think, part of the price that has to be paid, and will continue to have to be, to bring about an end to the Troubles. If McGuinness, Gerry Adams and the like had not realised that the way to secure their ends was through the ballot box and not through terrorism, and if the governments on both sides of the Irish Sea had not been prepared to be particularly forgiving of what had been done in the name of 'freedom', there'd have been no Good Friday Agreement. Perhaps things would never have changed.
If Martin McGuinness and Ian Paisley, for example, can put aside years of mutual hatred and suspicion, and work within a political framework that seemed impossible when I was growing up, then that price has been, for me, worth paying. Anybody who lost somebody in the bombings of Enniskillen, or my home city of Brighton, or anywhere else that suffered during the Troubles, may of course feel very differently, and I'm in absolutely no position to tell them they're wrong.
Monday, 4 June 2012
Jubileave 'em to it
My feelings for this weekend's festivities are mixed, to say the least. I'm not, and never have been, remotely interested in what the royal family are up to. I am, though, very happy to take a couple of days off work. If I'm being less flippant, though, there is a serious question as to the monarchy's place in our culture these days behind all the bunting and flag waving.
I do not, of course, feel particularly comfortable with the idea of a family who, through simple accident of birth, enjoy wealth (or at least the trappings of wealth), privilege and the apparent servility of millions, none of which they've earned. It's an anachronism which in pretty much any other walk of life would have gone a long time ago. But I'm not a radical republican, ready to abolish the monarchy and all that goes with it.
There's a strong argument that many of the tourists to London in particular come to see the Royal palaces, the changing of the guard etc. And what would happen to Windsor's economy if the monarchy went south, for example? Or the area around Balmoral? Whether they're a net benefit financially is very difficult to tell, but they're certainly much less of a drain than some people seem to think.
More importantly, though, for me, is that we would not throw any of the other British constants, the things that help make us what we are as a culture, so readily. It's a source of great pride to me that British people are regarded as tolerant, open-minded, modernist, living in a genuinely multi-cultural society. I believe that the maturity in a society necessary to develop such tendencies comes, in part, from the things that don't change giving us a background of stability. An old Parliament with a long-standing democratic process. A long tradition of immigration and the assimilation of those immigrants into the British way of life. And the monarchy.
This is one of the things that make us what we are. Just as people come from all over the country to stand in the rain for eight hours, waving a tiny flag at a Queen who nips by in a few moments on a boat hundreds of feet away, so are we free to ignore it completely if we so choose. Ditch the thing, and those of us who ignore it will barely notice, but all those poor sods to whom it does still mean something will miss it. We will all, though, have lost a small something of ourselves.
I do not, of course, feel particularly comfortable with the idea of a family who, through simple accident of birth, enjoy wealth (or at least the trappings of wealth), privilege and the apparent servility of millions, none of which they've earned. It's an anachronism which in pretty much any other walk of life would have gone a long time ago. But I'm not a radical republican, ready to abolish the monarchy and all that goes with it.
There's a strong argument that many of the tourists to London in particular come to see the Royal palaces, the changing of the guard etc. And what would happen to Windsor's economy if the monarchy went south, for example? Or the area around Balmoral? Whether they're a net benefit financially is very difficult to tell, but they're certainly much less of a drain than some people seem to think.
More importantly, though, for me, is that we would not throw any of the other British constants, the things that help make us what we are as a culture, so readily. It's a source of great pride to me that British people are regarded as tolerant, open-minded, modernist, living in a genuinely multi-cultural society. I believe that the maturity in a society necessary to develop such tendencies comes, in part, from the things that don't change giving us a background of stability. An old Parliament with a long-standing democratic process. A long tradition of immigration and the assimilation of those immigrants into the British way of life. And the monarchy.
This is one of the things that make us what we are. Just as people come from all over the country to stand in the rain for eight hours, waving a tiny flag at a Queen who nips by in a few moments on a boat hundreds of feet away, so are we free to ignore it completely if we so choose. Ditch the thing, and those of us who ignore it will barely notice, but all those poor sods to whom it does still mean something will miss it. We will all, though, have lost a small something of ourselves.
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