The Blackberry Walk

I heard the news of Her Majesty's passing after watching Monty Python's The Holy Grail with my girlfriend. She showed me the news on her phone, and we lay motionless sobbing, before gluing ourselves to the BBC coverage. Surreal, it felt; that ever-present trellis around which modern Britain had grown had seemingly collapsed, leaving the climbing culture to stand on its own roots. But has the wooden strut broken? Or do we conflate the former queen with the monarchy since many have never known any different? Nay-sayers prematurely proclaim that the thousand year royal lineage will cease with Charles, saying that he'll never fill the boots Elizabeth shaped. But is there truth in that? Is monarchy the mere 'cult of personality' the doomers suggest, or is monarchy really something deeper? Referring back to my previous article Natural Law and Chaos' Law, what is 'default' is not the atomised chemical state. Rousseauian independently-minded noble savages is not the base state of mankind, however much ""scientific"" evolutionary modelling you use to prop it. Mankind's base state is far more complex than that. Modern man has used Occam's Razor to slit his wrists, and wonders why we've bled the meaning out of the cosmos; reality is far more rich and complex than reductionism tricks us into believing. My assertion is that monarchy - and specifically monarchy connected to the divine - is something natural, something innate. In Britain we are lucky; many countries don't have what we have, and nor do they know what they're missing. There's an image, a container, if you will, waiting to be projected, waiting to be filled, by a monarch. In another sense, man is born with monarch potential in his mind - potential waiting to be actualised in a monarch who rules you. People say 'merely symbolic', but as I've said before, symbols are by no means mere: symbols are, in many senses, more real. The monarch of Britain is Britain's face. Through their vision Britain interacts and sees the world, and through their visage the world sees us. Whilst the brains of the operations lie nestled behind the cranium of parliament in the offices of Whitehall, it is through the monarch that any Britain may see themselves. One may love or detest the cabinet, the MPs, or the faceless civil servants, but we aren't divided across those lines, since we can see ourselves and connect to others through the totem of the monarch. For we are all his subjects. Since monarchy is normal and all else abnormal, let us turn to our Atlantean cousins in the US. The fact that they do not have a monarch is wholly bizarre and unusual. The illness their political radicalism suffers with is a lack of a unifying figure, for each year they elect are partisan king. When the other half of the electorate can't see themselves in this king, they chant that he is 'not their president', because they can't stand to see their nation's face in him. When parliament sat in the Commons with black ties - party-less, without their usual coloured allegiances - was an especially moving scene. In the face of the queen's passing, petty disputes and party lines are all water under the bridge, for in the monarch all can be one. Even if monarchy is a constant in Britain, the monarch is not. The face of the nation, after all, changes. It is the death of a past era and the birth of the next. Japan traditionally counts their years by monarch, with the year comprising of the emperor's name followed by the year of his reign. Whilst we don't do that with our monarchs (instead counting the years of Christ's reign) the principal stands that we remember history in terms of which face was ascendant, like the Elizabethan era, the Georgian era, or the Victorian era. Times change in Britain with the change of monarch; whole social eras are bounded by their lives. Through a new monarch, we see ourselves as different people, for our understanding of ourselves as a nation is different. The second Elizabethan age is over, and it saw such rapid change, from post-war poverty, to 60s supermarkets and motorways, to 70s discontent, to 80s economic reformation, to the internet and the rapid social and cultural change which is beyond brief description. The Elizabethan age has been one of great change in a certain direction. In a sense, the monarch is the Aristotelian final cause, or telos, which pulls culture in a certain direction, like a current. The era of Elizabeth II is over; but what era will Charles III deliver? Unlike Elizabeth who was queen from a young age, Charles has long had the opportunity to be opinionated, and share his thoughts on any and all issues. Whilst he says he will be honouring the tradition of monarchical neutrality, his reputation as being opinionated is an odour which is hard to wash out. Elizabeth was always private about her thoughts and opinions, acting as a blank canvas for people to see themselves in, whilst with Charles his canvas is already coloured and painted. Consequently, it may be harder for people to see themselves in him, but at the same time it may affect our national psyche to be less open and wishy-washy, and instead be more conscientious and dogmatic. Another trait Charles is known for is vague mysticism. He's dabbled in Jung, essential oils, and other quite odd things for the monarch to dabble in; this may be related to my Hope for 2022 article, where I talk about how the future may become more mystical and religiose. On a different note, mentioning back to the previously linked article again, Elizabeth was the last public figure who remembers the Second World War; in a sense she's our only human connection left to the horrors of Hitler. She lived through the Blitz in London, and very much embodies to this day the 'Blitz spirit' of duty and self-denial for the greater good. Will she be our last connection to that era of trauma? Will we finally be able to move on? The tenor I've felt from talking to people and hearing the news is that many are more affected than expected. In truth, I was more affected than I expected, even though I expected to be more affected than expected. Is this not the ineffability of monarchy? The complexity of monarchy, which we can hardly put into words? I believe so. But at this moment all I can say is this: The queen is dead; long live the king. I'm continuing a few days later to recount my journey to Buckingham Palace yesterday. My mother and I exited Green Park station, and so did the rest of the train; it was as if everyone riding the train was off to visit Buckingham palace. About a fifth of the people in the carriage were carrying bouquets of flowers also, but, as we shall see, few I suspect managed to place them. There was a thick flow of people confluencing at various intersections of Green Park, being led by TFL and staff into a large queue. There was an immense amount of people, at least ten thousand strong, but likely many tens of thousands - far more people than you would see exiting a stadium after a football game. The passage was gridlocked as people gradually inched their way forwards to get ever-closer to Buckingham palace. After an hour and a half, we essentially gave up going to Buckingham Palace, in part since the maul was too much, but also because a royal expert we met from New Zealand suggested we stay put in our position along The Mall leading up to the palace. But it was not just Commonwealthers we talked to: Italians, Mexicans, Brazilians - people from all over the globe were taking part in this royal ruck. After waiting some time - just as the expert advised - a motorcade appeared, with the king's black Rolls-Royce in tow. The king was waving to his subjects, and I saw him up close, taking a regrettably rubbish video of the event. The young Brazilian girl next to us, who had come just a day prior to begin studying abroad for a few months, was shaking with exhilaration on the verge of tears, and said to us, "I'll definitely be telling my children about this." No one would say that about a mere celebrity: the moment was magical because he was the king. The mood of the event wasn't solemn, but rather hopeful. There was a kind of buzz of excitement - not the cliche of "we're a part of history" - but something more meaningful, as if everyone was participating in a kind of sacral moment on pilgrimage. The times were a-changing: the new king was coming. Despite the pushing, the children tired of walking, the sheer bustle and claustrophobia of the event, everyone was happy and chatty, making new queue friends, and sharing in the moment. Peering at the many bouquets - many of which now encircled trees rather than the palace, owing to the difficulty in getting there - one attached message caught my eye. It was entitled, "to the Eternal Queen". To many, Elizabeth II is an eternal queen who's been the standing at the helm of the nation as captain since time immemorial. A modern Faerie Queen, the second Elizabeth's spirit will loom large over decades to come; her legacy will never be forgotten. We're at a moment when the tone - the very key signature - of the third Caroline age shall be set; and we can only hope this new tone shall be melodious.