Antony Lane, a New Yorker reviewer and writer is my very favorite writer – well next to me of course. I am my very favorite writer on earth but next to me comes him (in my book anyway).
I truthfully have spent the last two days reading New Yorker reviews – two movie reviews and a book review. He is the funniest man on earth – well perhaps tied to Andy Borowitz, also of the New Yorker. Who is the funniest woman on earth, in my humble opinion? Me.of course.
But back to Antony. You cannot imagine my utmost delight when I received words from the New Yorker and a story of the coronation. How timely? The thing took place a few days ago. Mercifully I was spared the boredom. How come? I do not own a television. The time I save, the things I have gotten done over the years because I am not a television watcher. That and not having kids has paved the road of my success. I glanced at the title, then the subtitle and loved the review already. “The Uneventful Success of King Charles Coronation: The careful preparation with which every detail had been mapped out in advance is a prerequisite for military maneuvers. A comparable precision had been applied to the minutiae of peace.”
The review got off to a great start, throwing in Barbara Streisand as a possible Jewish princess (and we have ALL heard about Jewish princesses).
“In San Diego, in 1974, Barbra Streisand offered Prince Charles, as he then was, a sip of her tea. He accepted, and the two of them have remained on amicable terms ever since. (“If I played my cards right, I could have wound up being the first Jewish princess,” Streisand said, when he came to one of her shows.) Asked to put together a playlist of music he admires, a couple of years ago, Charles picked Streisand’s rendition of “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” Did that forthright plea of hers run through the royal mind, on May 6th, when Charles awoke, on the morning of his coronation, drew the curtains, and looked up at the sky? No luck. Even the unearthly powers of Streisand could not redeem the eternal glumness of the British climate.”
That is SO funny and so knowledgable. Antony knows everything about everybody. (I do not, I do know a great deal because people (including Royalty) have told me their secrets. Do not get your hopes up, it was Middle East Royalty and I am not talking. I suppose I might be bribed but only if it is not taxable. I have to pay both Canadian and American taxes. It has a chilling effect on entrepreneurship and industry, let me tell you. But back to Prince Chuck (that is what I called him, but not to his face as I never met him).
Lane describes the weather of the day, also SO funny, explaining that it is the weather causing people to leave so-called Great Britain.
“The rain fell before, during, and after the ceremony. The sky was the color of the water that is left in the sink after you’ve scrubbed the dishes. The day wasn’t as cold as June 2, 1953, when Queen Elizabeth II was crowned, but it was equally gray; such are the joys of historical continuity. This was the sort of weather that makes even loyal citizens dream of emigration.”
Lane focuses on the other Royals in attendance. This comment was priceless, right on and gave the proper amount of attention to the spoiled brat (very little attention indeed).
“ Some guy with a russet beard and a face like muffled thunder, rumored to be a prince of the realm, flew in from California, attended the main event, then went away. (What the hell did he want?)”
Goodness gracious, who knows what he wants, and quite frankly, who cares? He would get weary of ‘what he always wanted’ soon – watch out M of H & M ( ironically the cheap dress store).
Lane supplied excruciating details which made me most happy I had not been invited. First the long flight (going via Iceland is fun though) and then this.
“Also, since some took their seats as early as eight o’clock in the morning, and were unable to leave the Abbey for six hours, the bladders of even the most devout would have been tested to the limit.”
Lane has an uncanny knowledge of history, describing the fate of Samuel Pepys many years ago.
“I had so great a lust to pisse that I went out a little while before the King had done all his ceremonies.” Nothing if not honest, the account concluded with Pepys confiding, to the pages of his diary, exactly where, and with whom (“some gallant sparks”), he then toasted the King’s health.”
Uncanny is the perfect word. It means: strange or mysterious, especially in an unsettling way. It has many synonyms: preternatural, supernatural, unearthly, otherworldly, ghostly, strange, abnormal, odd, queer, freakish; creepy, spooky, freaky, bizarro. Faithful readers can probably guess my preferences, bizzaro, spooky, freaky and queer.
Lane nominates several stars of the show.
“Who, or what, was the highlight of so elaborate an experience will rightly be a matter for debate. Some likely candidates”
Ten were suggested, First my second favorite and then my most favorite.
“3. Princess Charlotte. Yet another candidate for a greater role than fate has assigned to her. Her elder brother, George, will—if the succession goes to plan—become King in due course, maybe many decades from now. But does she, even now, not seem more naturally suited to the part? In the Abbey, George wore a heavy and hunted look, as well he might, whereas she wore Alexander McQueen. (So did her mother, but she, alas, had to drape the white dress in ceremonial robes.) Self-possessed, calm, and, unstunned by the pageantry, Charlotte kept a firm grip on Prince Louis, as you would on a small cocker spaniel. She has the air of someone who has already worked out, at the age of eight, that the best way not to be crushed by life, however grinding its demands, is to enjoy it.”
How enjoyable, keeping a firm grip on her brother “like you would a small cocker spaniel.” “The best way to deal with life, no matter how bad it gets is ‘to enjoy it.”
This one my very favorite of ten ‘stars of the show’.
.
“8. In a similar vein, the presence of Ephraim Mirvis, who is chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of Great Britain and the Commonwealth. For the event, he and his wife were invited to stay at St. James’s Palace, within walking distance of Westminster Abbey, so that they would not be required to take any form of transport over Shabbat. He was thus able, as he wrote on his official Web site, to “sing zemirot and chant Havdalah within regal surroundings.” A far cry, as Mirvis pointed out, from 1189, when Jews bringing gifts to the coronation of Richard I were stripped, flogged, and sent on their way. Some thirty Jews were murdered that day.”
Some readers may call me Anti-Semantic for this choice. I say onto them what I say to all who criticize Israel for their atrocities in Palestine. I am not anti-Semantic, I am Anti-Aggression, Anti-Arrogance and Anti-A**hole.
Prior to achieving the throne, Prince Charles issued supportive statements calling for the ending of violence in Palestine. I do hope he has the courage to continue this unpopular stance – unpopular in most of the Western world. But not Germany – the holocaust folks. My blog urged the reading of Hitlers Willing Executioners. Just type Hitler’s Willing into the search engine, three articles emerge, they are powerful. Read the May 26, 2021 blog, it is powerful I shall repost it on May 26, 2023. Nothing has changed, except my life. I was living in Marin County, later to face terrible discrimination as a Muslim woman, fled to the UAE in November of 2021 but mercifully escaped there and now live in the safety and security of Canada. I purposefully no longer look Muslim, so I am entirely safe. When in Saudi Arabia I look most Saudi – it is cultural, not religious, the wearing of hijabs. Canada allows, but does not, dictate the wearing of hijabs or abayas.
The link to the entire Antony Lane masterpiece is https://www.newyorker.com/news/letter-from-the-uk/the-uneventful-success-of-king-charless-coronation?utm_source=onsite-share&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=onsite-share&utm_brand=the-new-yorker
The attached photos are from my London days (2014-2017). Every Sunday, across the street from Dolphin Square (my last London abode) there was a marvelous spectacle. A Car Boot Sale. It was a sheer delight, bringing weekly bargains. The grand necklace that adorns my neck looks as if were of the finest jewels, But not, it cost a mere 10 pounds. It was a gift from co-author Jessica Phibbs. She, the poet, I the prose person of the self-published In Contemplation and In Conversation. As typical of most self published books (and this blog) nobody made any money from it. Oh well. I have a few copies left that shall be given to worthy individuals (if I ever can find any). Hahaha. I given many away to non worthy folks. But the Introduction says it all: This book rescued me from hopelessness and despair, loneliness and alienation. My creative juices were dried up, I was barren. Now I have a fertile mind, more so than eve before.”The book also launched this blog, Computer Guru Chris was hired to PhotoShop the book – he then (and immediately) launched alexismcbride.com
The other photo is laughable. I am posing alongside a painting, just purchased. The red gloves, the fur jacket (five pounds) had also been purchased there (and then). The Car Boot Sale was located on the grounds of Pimlico Academy. It is across the street from the nursery school where Diana Spencer was teaching when she and Prince Chuck became engaged. This has come full circle.Why? The engagement and marriage, in time, caused to the presence of – we have Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis entertaining the entire world at the 2023 Coronation.
It is a small world, after all. Hey, just remembered it is a song. Googled it and here are the lyrics.
It’s a world of laughter
A world of tears
It’s a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There’s so much that we share
That it’s time we’re aware
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small, small world
There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to ev’ryone
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small world after all
It’s a small, small world
Google it yourself, listen to one of the versions. I promise it will cheer you up, if you just let it. Go ahead, give it a try. I dare you! Or just wallow in your misery. It is all up to you.
