Hollinghurst is a master sociologist of the ruling class (Line of Beauty, 2006)

Elite misbehaviour is the Ariadne’s thread, the unifying theme, running through Alan Hollinghurst’s oeuvre. From his debut novel, The Swimming-Pool Library, to his latest work, Our Evenings, his characters tend to be entitled toffs — or bourgeois parvenus with a ringside view of their milieu — who get up to all kinds of nastiness.
All too often, an admixture of careerism and cynicism prompts them to throw in their lot with the most reactionary causes, which, amplified by the tabloid press, lead to disastrous social consequences. The stakes vary, oscillating between well-heeled prissiness and outright skinhead violence directed against homosexuals and racial minorities. Hollinghurst, of course, is too clever to tax us with straightforward causality. He works through implication and omission. Allied to this Jamesian habit of mind is a very English scepticism of theory.
But theory is one thing, morality another. Hollinghurst’s mannered, swaggering debut unquestionably brims with it. The Swimming-Pool Library is nothing less than an indictment of the moral shortcomings of Britain’s ruling class. Set in 1983, the novel takes place in a world of prelapsarian promiscuity before AIDS permanently consumed the gay scene. Just down from Oxford and in no real need of a job, William Beckwith, a sinewy 20-something aristo, is able to take full advantage of it — “the sex-sharp little circuits of discos and pubs and cottages” — thanks to his grandfather’s fortune, prematurely handed over to him to avoid death duties. His aristocratic ennui is offset by his penchant for predatory sex with subalterns, men “vastly poorer and dimmer than himself — younger, too. I don’t think [Will’s] ever made it with anyone with a degree. It’s forever these raids on the inarticulate.” His is the proprietary lust of the possessing classes. “I must have him” is Will’s refrain, and what he wants, he usually gets.
An encounter with a queer peer, Charles Nantwich, in a public lav soon results in a friendship. Rather taken by Charles and his club, a happily old-fashioned institution full of men of “fantastic seniority”, Will agrees to write his biography. And so, in a pivotal scene, Will lights upon an astonishing find in Charles’s diaries. The poor chap’s life, he learns, had been destroyed by an up-and-coming Tory politician, who whipped up a moral panic over homosexuality after Charles had been caught soliciting. If that isn’t awful enough, it turns out that the person behind it all was in fact Will’s own grandfather. Will’s cheerfully disinhibited gay existence, in other words, had all along been sustained by proceeds from the original sin of gay oppression.
At the time of its publication, the politics of The Swimming-Pool Library attracted much less comment than did the sex. Naturally enough, readers were rather more taken by its concupiscent protagonist, unencumbered by such quaint notions as consent. Will, who divides his time between clubland and cottaging, pines for young black men: “Oh, the ever-open softness of black lips; and the strange dryness of the knots of his pigtails.” Arthur, of West Indian origin, fits the bill, and lets Will have his way with him: “after a few seconds’ brutal fumbling, [I] fucked him cruelly. He let out little compacted shouts of pain, but I snarled at him to shut up and with fine submission he bit them back.”
As it was, The Swimming-Pool Library was a tamer affair than The Folding Star, Hollinghurst’s answer to Lolita and Death in Venice. Here’s his narrator, Edward Manners, finally having it off with the object of his sexual fantasies, his precocious pupil Luc Altidore, a Flemish teenager, in the novel’s climax: “I was up on the chair, fucking him like a squaddie doing push-ups, ten, twenty, fifty… I had a dim sense of protest, postponed as if he wasn’t quite sure.”
Now, in Our Evenings, his latest novel, Hollinghurst bites back the gay sex. Gone, too, is the racial fetishisation of his early works. Reviewers have been quick to detect a note of repentance in the new novel, and The New Yorker, of all places, complained how boringly PC it is. Its narrator is a gay Anglo-Burmese actor; its themes, prejudice and parochialism in postwar British life.
But the contrast between Hollinghurst’s early and late style is overdrawn. True, veiny members “of a dimension” — as the hero of The Line of Beauty calls them with Jamesian portentousness — are out, but then again, his fiction is about gay sex only in the sense that Proust’s À la recherche is about dinner parties. Hollinghurst has said as much himself: “I only chafe at the ‘gay writer’ tag if it’s thought to be what is most or only interesting about what I’m writing. I want it to be part of the foundation of the books, which are actually about all sorts of other things as well — history, class, culture” — and architecture and painting, theatre and opera, love and loss, ephebophilia and gerontophilia, one might add.
Indeed, there are clear political echoes of The Swimming-Pool Library in Our Evenings. The gilded scion Will has his counterpart in Giles, who treats Dave with the same de haut en bas disdain that Will treats his black lover. Dave, 13 when the novel begins, is the son of a single mother — latterly a sapphic dressmaker — and her Burmese beau. As kids, Giles is given to giving Dave Chinese burns and assaulting him at night. And already, there are signs of the brat politician that Giles will become, a Viscount Beckwith après la lettre: a “violently self-important” Tory MP, a consummate little Englander Borisishly bumbling his way up the political ladder. He is (but of course) the architect of Brexit.
Their life chances supply an interesting study in contrasts, as Hollinghurst charts their lives from the Seventies to Covid, counterpointing Giles’s aristocratic philistinism to Dave’s bourgeois earnestness. Biracial, gay, Dave makes do with character parts, ultimately becoming a thespian of some standing. Giles, meanwhile, has a vertiginous ascent.
Yet Giles’s progress from school bully to the bullying beast of Brexit feels a little too on-the-nose, a facile concession to bien-pensant opinion. Hollinghurst has been subtler in the past. It betrays, moreover, a perspective ignorant — or perhaps innocent — of the rich tradition of progressive Euroscepticism in this country, encompassing inter alios Wynne Godley and Tony Benn. To The Times, Hollinghurst has recently pronounced Brexit a “national humiliation”, no less. Yet he is undoubtedly on the money in using it as a shorthand for the recrudescence of racism: hate crimes soared by 41% after the referendum.
There was a touch of Whiggishness to Hollinghurst’s previous two novels, which seemed to be saying “look how far we have come”. Undeniably true, of course: take, for instance, the long march from decriminalisation in 1967 to gay marriage in 2013. Here, by contrast, Hollinghurst offers a corrective. The dial can just as easily be rolled back by crafty agents provocateurs in politics and the press.
Our Evenings is also reminiscent of The Line of Beauty in that both novels are, after a fashion, lessons in elite reproduction. Dave and Giles study at the same posh school, yet only one of them is able to effortlessly step onto life’s escalator. Dave is only ever an interloper in polite society. The same is true of Nick Guest in The Line of Beauty, Hollinghurst’s most overtly political Bildungsroman. There, he set out to document “the Thatcher boom years from the inside,” as he later told The Guardian.
Down from Oxford to take a doctorate on Henry James’s style at UCL, Nick is a guest at the Feddens’ in Kensington Park Gardens. Fedden fils is a college crony of his, Fedden père a Tory MP. A petit-bourgeois parvenu among patricians, Nick at first feels welcome in this milieu, but as time wears on, we realise that this in fact is the story of a young man precipitously coming down in the world. Far from being the face of a new Tory tolerance, Gerald Fedden happily throws Nick under the bus to distract from his own financial and sexual improprieties. A “little pansy”, “little ponce,” Gerald’s mates call Nick, and the MP agrees: attaching oneself to a “real family” was “an old homo trick”.
Nick learns in a hard school of the existence of such a thing as toff solidarity. It’s a coming of age that mirrors his creator’s own. Hollinghurst, the son of an ex-RAF bank manager, grew up in Tory Stroud, before going up to Canford, a public school in Dorset in a repurposed country house. “We were terribly ignorant about anything to do with politics or society or real life. I was unthinkingly conservative. I absorbed conservatism from my parents and assumed that was all one did,” he later said. Magdalen College, Oxford, opened a world of radicalism, much as it did to Dave Win, an unthinking Liberal forced to think through his politics at Oxford.
Hollinghurst’s own progress reveals volumes about the immunity from politics denied to homosexuals, a people more buffeted than most by political interventions throughout modern history. He discovered that “to write about gay life, even if one’s intentions are not militantly political, can have political implications”. In an interview with the Oxon Review, he elaborated on “the Nick Guest paradox”: his protagonists want to assimilate into broader society without having to “follow through the socio-political implications of being gay in any radical fashion”, but political elites in particular, and society at large, will never leave them be. A belle-lettrist by disposition, he never set out to be a political writer (“I’m not a particularly political person”), though became one as a “by-product of something else”: the coming of AIDS and “the antigay moral backlash which ensued in this country, the whole ghastly experience of the Thatcher period”. Ghastly is about right. Her 1987 campaign unabashedly associated Labour with “gay pride” in a bid to discredit her opponents. The following year, Section 28 banned councils and schools from promoting tolerance to homosexuals.
Unsurprisingly, top-down homophobia has been one of Hollinghurst’s abiding preoccupations. It no doubt helps that elite mischief makes good copy: “I have written about rich or other upper-class people because they are good value. They have more scope for misbehaviour and thoughtlessness,” he said to Robbie Millen of The Times. It’s an eminently Jamesian sentiment. As the Master once observed, “there are bad manners everywhere, but an aristocracy is bad manners organised”. Unlike his wide-eyed protagonists, however, Hollinghurst is firmly unillusioned about this set: “What I’ve always been interested in is moral weakness.” Viscount Beckwith represents one version of it in The Swimming-Pool Library, through his sordid pandering to Sixties homophobia. He reappears in the Eighties, with a cameo in The Line of Beauty, as “a handsome old saurian of the right enjoying fresh acclaim these days”.
As for Gerald Fedden, that “uxorious bigamist” with photos of both his wife and the prime minister on his desk, he very much embodies the moral weakness of the ruling class of that decade. Hollinghurst sends up with great effect the ludicrous hold, by turns slavish and sexual, Thatcher had over her acolytes. “A foolish Tory MP” finds himself at the centre of the eponymous Sparsholt Affair, a sex scandal involving rent boys in 1967. In the real world, a mere six Tory MPs voted in favour of decriminalisation that year, even as polls showed that 63% of Britons supported the decision. It was as late as 2002 when the first gay Tory MP, Alan Duncan, came out; though there had been many gay Tory MPs since the age of John Macnamara and Chips Channon, that “fleeting flibbertigibbet” (as Hollinghurst called him) who once described Hitler as a “semi-divine creature”.
As we have seen, Our Evenings has rather more to say on elite irresponsibility than elite hypocrisy. Like his previous six novels, it is a bravura performance of empathy and observation, freighted with the kind of high-cultural allusions (Aeschylus and Alma-Tadema, Janáček and Jonson, Palladio and Pevsner) that have won him a cult following but also prevented him from becoming the object of tote-wielding deification of the cortado classes in the manner of a Sally Rooney. And once again, he has proven his chops as a superlative sociologist of the moral weaknesses of our ruling class.
Because and I don’t understand this and I don’t know why or how it is but the Monarchy embodies some sort of Occult Power which is why it survives. The Elite,one name for them,they need this secret source of power to legitimate themselves and carry out their plans.No wonder Kingie looked so apprehensive all through the Coronation. He knows he’s got someone that could replace him in a heartbeat,his son William. I don’t mean a usurpation. I think William is a good loyal son and loves his Dad,but if the puppet masters chose to pull the strings……Charles’s Mummy had a much more secure start in that whether she had thought of this or not,there was no one in her immediate circle either capable or appropriate to replace her. Margaret? I don’t think so! Whatever this power is it’s not invested in the one individual person,or only for a time.
Alex O’Connor misses the main point. Every country has to have a head of state – a unifying figure who represents every citizen. That is only possible if the head of state is politically neutral, and therefore not automatically hated by at least half of the population. The prime minister has the power but not the glory; the monarch has the glory but not the power. That is a better solution that combining the two in one person, with the inevitable hubris and corruption that follows. By an accident of history we have been landed with the house of Windsor as hereditory monarchs, and a pile of archaic flummery. It’s what we have, and the alternative is so much worse. Do we really want Tony Blair or Brian Cox as head of state? The task is unrelenting and difficult, but the late queen performed it for 70 years without a single misstep. Let’s hope Charles can do the same.
I agree with many of the comments below, the principle of them being ‘no thank you to President Starmer’
The twelve foot train is a bit barmy and it has a sort of Gormanghast stagnation about it. Perhaps a few updates on the visuals might play better in these times. I can well imagine this King feeling a bit of a knob in all that theatrical garb. I guess we are not ready to storm the baracades over the King’s fashion strictures but we must be aware of looking a little foolish dressing up like a Savoy Opera.
It would be just wonderful to have, say, Tony Blair or John Bercow as President.
Sure, there are some people, like Alex, who don’t like the idea of King Charles as Head of State. But once you have an election you guarantee that about half the country doesn’t like the Head of State.
A monarchy is pre-modernist. This alone is immensely valuable, and justifies keeping it. It’s also a material representation (ironically) of the notion of immateriality. When I was 8 (1971) my school teacher wrote a number 2 on the blackboard and told us it wasn’t a number 2, but merely an particular arrangement of chalk particles. Alex represents the notion we’re only chalk particles. The weird catch 22 comes with the realization that chalk particles aren’t capable of reaching the conclusion they’re chalk particles.
Absolutely with you Alex, maybe at least in part because I have personally witnessed the power of the social group with the monarch at its centre to disregard the law and to overrun the rights of others with a sense of total entitlement. Consider that 80% of the rural population support a ban on chasing and killing wild animals with a pack of dogs – a contrived and protracted act of cruelty as I have seen many times, with, in the case of foxes, animals produced for the purpose (see record of the use of artificial fox earths at least thirty in the home hunting area of the Beaufort Hunt closely associated with Charles). The Beaufort hunt through Highgrove, I have heard the holloa, seen the fox run across the A433 into Highgrove, the hounds tracking its route, the hunt following, armed security at the gate ushering them through. As happened in my hamlet, Hunts notoriously overrun public and private property causing mayhem and sometimes injury to livestock. The point is this, any form of obsequiousness to hereditary power and its associated social power group can have the result of inflicting lawless behaviour on a population, with – largely speaking – the cooperation of the police. We need a more grown up system, diminishing the monarchy as in other European counties would do for a start.
While I don’t disagree that these traditions are an essential part of maintaining the political settlement in Britain, given all that has happened in the history of the relationship between Ireland and Britain, the continued requirement that members elected by the Irish nationalist citizens of Northern Ireland take this oath is obscene and insulting. While I applaud Mr. Eastwood for his constructively ambiguous dismissal of this nonsense, it is obnoxious and deeply undemocratic that he has to do so I order to represents his electorate. The Shinners of course take a different path.
Monarchy is related to the idea of a sovereign nation state being the point of convergence of the entire nation. However as we’re witnessing the end of the nation state as a form of international order it does indeed feel out of touch with reality. The real power lies with the global technocracy anyway as the Covid debacle demonstrated. So the entire royal spectacle feels sort of hollow.
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If Trump is the answer to a Republic Im happy to stick with a Monarchy thanks
In the 21stC the Monarchy, with all its trappings, is an anachronism.
We need a secular state and the abolition of the House of Lords.
Sounds a grey boring world to me.
I agree with Alex here, “I am not anti-monarchy in principle. But I am anti-pretence.” In principle and in fact I am a monarchist with every fiber of my being, but I do not blame King Charles III for the current state of his position, nor for that matter his late mother Queen Elizabeth II (though she isn’t entirely blameless). In all fact, the fault for the state of the current monarchy rests in large part with the Parliament, and the Commons in particular. The balance of power is now, and for a long time has been, entirely in the favor of the Commons. 1688, but more so 1714, was the beginning of the long decline for the monarchy, and 1911 was the beginning of a more rapid decline for the Lords. I can easily conceive of a day when the Lords and monarchy are abolished by act of parliament solely on the authority of the Commons alone as it was in 1649. And it would be entirely legal. But being legal doesn’t make it just or right. The real solution would be to take the shackles off the hereditary peers and the monarchy and strike a decent balance of power between the King, the Lords, and the Commons: that means the hereditary peers must be re-enfranchised in the Lords along with veto power of some degree, and the King needs to have access to his prerogatives again as well, whether amended or not; otherwise the situation will only continue to decay.
No one would have said this when the queen was alive. She played her part by keeping her thoughts to herself and doing her duty, which gave weight and authenticity to the role.
Charles is quite openly a wef stooge and so cannot claim to represent all the prince his ream. William will be even worse.
What’s wrong with William?
Clever but not wise
Well the author makes a good case – but it’s a left-wing rationalist case. And frankly we know where that end up ended up so many times. The French Revolution – so rational. Wasn’t Stalin’s constitution absolutely wonderful?
King Charles it has his faults, but every time I think of the equivalent of a president Macron (or Biden!) -.Blair or Cameron? being the head of state that’s enough of an argument for me just saying let’s carry on with the monarchy we have.
Silliness and eccentricity are most helpful in maintaining a civilised society. Puritan functionalism failed from 1650 to 1660.
If I weren’t already a monarchist, a tedious pseudo-rational article throwing sixth-form debating club arguments against it would probably convert me to the cause.
Corbyn is, and always has been, a subversive. He is a source of potential danger in the democratic system. His ilk needs to be watched carefully.
As an American, your monarchy is none of my business but I did find this piece quite interesting, especially that 62% of you support its continuation. When 62% of Americans agree on anything we call it a landslide. My only reflection on the Royal Family that I feel I might have permission to comment upon otherwise is the American Princess. I find it distasteful that an American celebrity who traffics so thoroughly in Woke ideology would be able to reconcile such distain for historical white hereditary privilege with accepting a Royal title and the benefits that accompany it–duties not so much.
Any other practices this bloke would like to see the back of? Black Rod perhaps? The Stone of Scone? Beefeaters? Who’d miss Chelsea Pensioners?
All authority is hereditary. your right to the house you live in, the school you attended, your participation in the commonwealth. your nationality are all hereditary. Your enjoyment of the protection of the laws and the constitution of this realm is hereditary. There is a reason people are risking their lives to get to this side of the Dover Strait and it is to enjoy what every freeborn Englishman has of right – our hereditary privlege.
When people talk about ‘abolishing privilege’ they don’t just mean the Kings prerogative – they mean your own personal prerogative rights.
20 years and more since Blairs Purge of the Hereditary peers in the name of ‘democracy’ and against ‘inherited privlege’ and people are still falling for the old swindle.
When the King enjoys his own, every freeman may expect to do the same.
Loyalty, like ceremony, like family, like love itself is pre-political. Those who don’t get it, as C.S. Lewis put it, have lost their ‘tap root in Eden’ and they have my prayers.
The Monarchy is criticised because their circumstances have been obtained by “accident of birth”. My own “accident of birth” was in the 1940 Orkney Islands giving me a quality of life better than that of most humans who have ever existed.
I think there’s a better point hiding in this essay. The problem the UK faces is that it needs an executive with some power. A King who could actually veto legislation and exert influence on foreign policy would be a plus. Right now you have a PM and Parliament with near total power based on the support of less than 40% of the population, that can’t be removed for 5 years. That’s an unstable recipe for good governance.
Actually 20% of the population voted labour. (34% of 60%)
Makes my point even stronger. A Parliament with that level of support should have zero ability to make significant changes.
You should respect your traditions, you miss them when they’re gone. Without the Monarchy the UK would be… a more crowded Ireland. Yawn.
I don’t believe the monarchy is either empty or an embarrassment.
It is true that it isn’t an institution which is a product of contemporary thought, but that is not necessarily a disadvantage. It has evolved over time and it gives stability and continuity to the UK. This is particularly important at a time when there are no other sources of stability and society is increasingly divided and unstable.
Something lacking on the comments so far is positive features of monarchy; I suggest a couple:
The position of the royals is entirely dependant on their relationship to their own territory. Those who leave immediately become ridiculous eg the duke of Windsor, or more recently the sad spectacle of Harry. Charles and William may be fabulously wealthy and privileged on paper but they are stuck with the UK, no escaping to California for them. They really are “all in it together”.
One feature which I think adds value is the tradition of young members of the royal family joining the armed forces. This is in stark contrast to our elected politicians; I wonder if we would have been involved in so many wars if it were the politicians sons being killed and injured?
The principal objection to monarchy is that it results in leaders who are neither chosen by the people nor intellectually outstanding. In theory these seem to be strong arguments, but in practice the people who are elected are chosen as the least worst, and the professors and academics are leading their institutions into oblivion. Is there any evidence that leaders who are elected or chosen on the basis of academic excellence are objectively better rulers?
Finally, even if the current arrangements are imperfect there is no guarantee that any new institutions would be better. It’s easy to compare the current messy reality with an idealised future, the actual results are more disappointing. There are lots of examples. Brilliant idea to replace nasty Victorian terraced houses with modern high rise flats. The rates were an unfair method of collecting local taxes, the poll tax was an improvement. Tony Blair’s plastic “Supreme Court”.
How about an alternative proposal that would save a great deal of money and get rid of a truly embarrassing institution; abolish parliament and let the King choose his own advisors!
Perhaps take a basic course in British Government before embarrassing yourself with this drivel.
It may not be the best constitutional arrangement but behind the frippery are good reasons for what is done. The unfunny posturing comedian for Norwich South [Clive Lewis] just shows why we need to teach in schools law and constitution
I have lived in 4 republics (Ireland, France, Germany and the US) and 4 monarchies (the UK, Luxembourg, the Netherlands and Belgium). I haven’t, in all my 7 decades, noticed that the citizens of those republics are especially grateful that their head of state is elected, while the citizens of the monarchies are resentful that their parliamentary democracies exist under the yoke of a hereditary head of state.
The constitutional monarchy system works perfectly well in the most democratic countries in the world, which include, as well as the four I mentioned above, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, as well as the other Commonwealth realms, and Japan, Spain, Norway, Sweden and Denmark. What arrogance to suggest a monarchy isn’t worth having, when those countries have a perfectly viable and perfectly democratic state organisation.
Now look at the majority of republics in the world. The African continent, Latin America and Central Asia spring to mind…
Mr O’connor talks about pointless, empty formulae, but the whole of life is made up of them, from “Have nice day”, to “Love you”, to “I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth…”. Where would we be without them?
In the end, it boils down to envy and loathing. The palaces would become museums, the crown jewels and golden throne would be exhibits. Upkeep and security would still have to be paid for, presidential elections don’t come cheap, and en elected head of state would need a salary. The Swiss are an exception in a world where almost all countries surround their head of state with considerable show. A good example is India.
So let the crown carry on, let the Corbyns, the Eastwoods and the Lewises complain about the empty formulae, as it is their perfect right to. There is perhaps little logic in the way most of the population accept monarchy, but it is a system which works as well as any republic, and it is a potent link with the past with a clear connection to the future.
David Eades
Well said
Excellent comment, though I wouldn’t go so far as to say any critic of the monarchy is necessarily exhibiting envy. I can’t imagine why anybody would envy their gilded cage. The argument is that rationalism is simply not enough.
I thought Charles Coronation Invitation,I saw it online,I didn’t get one,I thought it was beautiful but almost creepily Pagan and I think that being well read and cultured he will know that all over the world Kings rarely died of old age. The King was often sacrificed after a set term of time in order to reinvigorate the land,no wonder King Charles looked so respectfully apprehensive at his Coronation.
And when Diana visited Ireland the whole country went f*****g mental,with enthusiasm and glee I mean,so much for being Republicans. Bloody boring in my opinion
It’s our current crop of politicians that is the embarrassment.
Malaysia’s constitutional monarch and head of state is a King that is elected every 5 years by the 9 rulers of the Malay States with the office rotated between them. Generally the most senior is the next elected.
Perhaps the swearing in is a pertinent reminder to our MPs that their power is not infinite.
The Swiss head of state is the Bundesrat consisting of the seven cabinet ministers. The chair rotates and the person who is holding the chair acts as the fysical head of state for representation purposes. Charles looks like Liberace dug up from his grave.
Jerry Carroll – I hope you’re reading this. I saw your comment on the ‘God Did Not Save Donald Trump’ thread, and you’ve been proved correct within 24 hours!
Peacefull coexistance requires some shared norms, shared taboos as well as a few white lies.
Monarchy is one of those, and should be respected.as such
If you want to play the dangerous game of “f** socially useful fictions”, you may as well question the loyalty of some very opinionated MPs to the voters in their constituency who do not share their preferred policies. And this discussion might get ugly very, very fast.
Better stick with loyalty to the Crown.
It’s easy to want them gone after the death of Elizabeth II. She presided over the transition from the Empire and now the monarchy has no function other than ruining the British political system.
If we have no elected head of state, then it’s no surprise that we are poodles to US foreign policy.
And all of the younger royals have been instructed to do their best to ingratiate themselves with the plebs- see William and his dad doing their footy thing. They are wholly parasitic and strive only for their continued survival.
Seen and read a fair bit of Alex’s work – and I am a big fan of his. But think he’s a bit off here
My own view is that the monarchy (as whole concept) inhabits the same grey area in the psyche of the country as religion does for Alex.
Alex is an atheist, but openly critical of the more “zealous” atheists such as Dawkins et al. He is more well-read and understanding of the scriptures than almost any Theist. Yet he is equally as critical and questioning of them.
His belief system seems to inhabit a space between the two – with multiple thoughts and concepts on each side of the debate.
And so it is with the monarchy. In parts it’s absurd, in others it just is and exists as part of our identity. But broadly speaking the whole thing works and tearing at the fabric could ruin the whole tapestry. See a list of all the constitutional monarchies of the world and it’s essentially a shortlist of high quality nations.
Final note – to nit-pick:
The constitution of the UK is not unwritten at all. It’s just not in one codified document – rather spread over multiple documents (acts etc.). Being picky I know but Alex I am guessing would rather be corrected.
The sort of people who say complain about ‘meaningless ceremonial’ without knowing the history and the meaning which thrills through every last piece of brocade, every gesture, every blazon – are the same sort of people who say we have no constitution without having inspected the Bill of Rights or the Act of Settlement.
They are like people who inhabit only the TV room of a great ancestral castle which they have been born into but cannot fathom.
They are the people who go on tv quiz shows and answer a history question,anything even as recent as 5 years ago,with “before my time”.
Quite a bit of it actually is unwritten.
Yes, and could we also retire all those silly bits of brightly coloured cloth that we hang from poles all over the place, esp. the ones on sticks that are given to children to pointlessly wave about.
Our monarchy wields soft power. Despite what this republican young man imagines, our constitutional monarchy is respected worldwide for it’s diplomacy and mild influence. It is why the King is involved in events like the G7.
Jeremy Corbyn is an ideologue, if the writer prefers to respect him over and above the King, that makes him seem rather foolish to me.
Indeed, I recall the then Prince Charles launching the WEF’s Great Reset Initiative.
Of course the Monarchy should modernise its style of dress to save it from looking ridiculous but God forbid we move to have anyone elected as Head of State. The manifest drawbacks of that are fully evident.
What is a ‘modern style of dress’?
Most world leaders wear an adapted version of the business suit which Beau Brummel invented over 200 years ago.
Well it’s not a golden jewel encrusted crown and ermine edged robes with a long train for sure! It begins to look increasingly like Pantomime.
He is the King. That is the Crown, made in 1661 for Charles II to replace St Edwards Crown of 1161. What could possibly be more appropriate?
Something about your response reminds me of the ineffable sadness that one feels when one hears a child say ‘it was like something off the movies’ when something beautiful or extraordinary happens.
As if reality were too wonderful for the likes of us.
The rich inheritance of our history is there, like a low hanging fruit, for any Englishman to enjoy as his own. If only they would.
The truth is I am not a convinced monarchist . For me the monarchy is simply less dangerous than an elected Head of State – but in my opinion, eventually the concept of blood line being the qualification for that particular post will be seen as absurd. I just thought that dropping the most outdated forms of public dress might delay that for a while. But given your clear love of the whole concept and manifestation of kingship, I realise that for you such changes would never be acceptable.- and you are not alone in that. Fair enough. Crowns it is then!
But it is. And it should be! You’ll want to ban Xmas next. All that wasteful excess.
I have no time for Charles or his offspring. However I prefer to have a monarch as head of state than one that is an elected.
Charles, and his spawn have some whacky ideas I profoundly disagree with and their views are influential. Our monanch should be silent other than to take part in ceremonial duties, their views should remain their own, thought but unsaid.
An elected head of state will be political and remove power from the HoC and the PM will be a secondary role, as it is in France. We elect MPs to form a government to run the country, there should not be a political head above parliament.
So just shut the king away and let him out to wave and stand on a balcony, but never let him or his kids near a microphone.
I partly agree, but they’re perfectly entitled to say whatever they wish, as anyone else is (within the law). The only thing that needs to change is the press and public taking the blindest bit of notice.
Of course, if a supposedly politically neutral monarch starts mouthing off highly politicised opinions, that wouldn’t work and the result would be the downfall of the entire institution – or at least the current incumbent.
The most compelling argument in favour of the monarchy can be summed up in two words: President Blair!
My Dad always used to say this. It would indeed be nauseating. But he’d be gone after four of five years having set his sights on becoming President/Emperor of the Universe. And we wouldn’t have to suffer his offspring inheriting the throne. The monarchy is an indefensible anachronism and actively undermines meritocracy. It also owns a vast amount of real estate that I’d love to see turned into housing. Up the British Republic!
Republican “meritocracy” has resulted in the UK having a Foreign Secretary who believes that men can grow a cervix if they take enough oestrogen.
So I’m fine with a constitutional hereditary monarchy as long as they don’t take the piss.
I’m totally with you on our abysmal, thin-skinned foreign secretary and his astonishing ignorance about more or less everything.
However, he can’t be a product of republican meritocracy as we are not a republic.
Don’t worry, I’m not claiming for a moment that a republic would equate to some sort of nirvana in which the likes of David Lammy would not hold such high office. I’ve just always been fundamentally opposed to the institution of monarchy as a matter of principle. I’m well aware that this puts me in the minority not only in the country but especially here on UnHerd, and this is fine.
Fair enough but I think we would live in an impoverished world where everything was deemed to be rational. Indeed the record of rational government isn’t so fantastic. They have been no totalitarian monarchies.
And keep their mouths shut
But would he be gone after 4 or 5 years? They used to say that about Putin. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
The great strength of an inherited monarchy is that, unlike when we discover we’ve elected a totally useless government and get angry, either with ourselves or the other side’s voters, no-one is to blame. If our monarch turns out to be useless, well it’s nobody’s fault and there’ll be another one along in a bit.
To claim that the abolition of the monarchy will somehow in itself solve the housing crisis is too silly for words! Somebody will own the land and in fact the crown land around our coasts is the very land which is accessible successful to everybody.
The Royal Family or The Monarch owns in one way or another A LOT MORE of this land than we know or imagine + if Charlie ever said “I’m off” my lawyers will.be sorting all my lands out we would all get a nasty shock. We don’t know the half of it partly because we don’t read long boring legal texts and partly because they dont tell us. If ALL THAT LAND became Da Peoples,not only would none of us have access to it but none of us would get a penny from all the huge profit development gold rush ensuing. Don’t poke the sleeping tiger.
Up yours!
Absolutely, though I’ve always thought the argument has four words: President Thatcher, President Blair.
Or President Boris,oops fell in the pool again.
All states (and virtually every other organisation like companies, schools, political parties etc) use similar conceits. The British monarchy and traditions around it just happen to be very old, and Britain itself a lot less significant than it used to be so that such ceremony looks incongruous. But it’s not at heart any different than what happens elsewhere.
Complaining about this is a bit like a teenager saying that the scruffy clothes they wear don’t matter – they don’t change who they are, or how well they can do a job. But clothes do matter, because they matter to other people, and pomp and ceremony matter for the same reason.
I like glamour and the more broke I am the more glamour I want.
Also: there’s nothing like putting on a nice dress and some lippie after a bad day to go out for a drink, even if you’re not in a posh bar. It lifts you up. The same goes for all the royal rituals and frippery.
I would rather be swear loyalty to a powerless figurehead who can’t threaten anybody and doesn’t have to do horse trading and other skullduggery to get The throne and is not beholden to someone do to having the post due to be born into it, then some corrupt and compromised mediocrity who owes too much too many other powerful people to get power and gets to point that he can’t be trusted to do anything right as a result of that.
But does it have to be either or, can’t there just be a doing away with the very silly rituals?
But people LOVE silly rituals and dressing up. Let’s have judges wear business suits and cast off wigs,people don’t want all that nonsense,it’s the rational 21st century,we are all educated now. Then I hear (on my radio),wearing these costumes is very important to me it’s a part of my identity. I’m not a Trekkie,those are just tourists,I’m a trekk-er and I need to.dress up in these clothes,it’s deep in my psyche and it tells other people who I am and what I represent. Just one example,there.are many others. No it’s not ‘fancy dress and silly rituals’. How you look tells other people who you are,so you need to portray the right message,and people do love dressing up or we wouldnt have malls full of clothing shops.
The most important role the monarch performs is to occupy a space in our governance that would be otherwise occupied by a politician. Of all the problems that beset our nation I cannot think of one, the solution to which, is another politician.
Bingo.
Also, irrelevant ceremonies largely invented by the Victorians in a fit of Imperial over-dramatics is a huge part of British public life. Yes a great deal of it is silly if looked at objectively, but who cares. Its the most British thing imaginable to know you’re doing something silly but keep doing it anyway, so let’s just celebrate it.
We tried living rational, sensible,prudent,abstemious and hygienic lives in the mid 17th century. It didn’t go down well because to be honest,most people want to party and live rag baggy,unplanned,improvident,thrift less lives. Our whole economy is based on it!
I think you make an incredibly important point.
When I was young, I could not see the point of the monarchy. When I was older, I thought it was an excellent way of separating status and power. Allegedly, Cheri Blair told Princess Anne that she could call her Cheri but Princess Anne declined to ‘go down that route’.
That’s it in a nutshell.
And if any PM attempts to grab power the monarch has the ability to instigate a constitutional crisis and draw attention to the fact.
The people will listen to the monarch and so will the armed forces… of which the monarch is the head.
Checks and balances.
“This is such a load of nonsense,” whispered Jeremy Corbyn and obviously Alex O’Connor agrees with the wisper..! The question is, does this make Jeremy Corbyn’s parliamentary performance less nonsensical..! The point I am trying to make is not on Jeremy Corbyn and his political performance. It is on the religious common-thinking that the current administrative democracy is more or less “the best we can have”, being delivered on the battle ground of political ideas, wrapped and served with the greatest science and many more wonders..!
But most “common folks” if they are not trapped in ideological nets, have a different understanding of what is good and just..! They may not always understand the details of the bureaucratic “load of nonsense” but they understand how much of a good and fair person Jeremy Corbyn may be, and when people offer wholeheartedly their allegiance to King Charles, their endorsement is a fully political act.. and who the fool may be, that remains an open question if one is honest enough..!
ps. A good King can serve the people. When this happens that is a form of democracy. A fool government (to say the least) can be “such a load of nonsense”. And such a government has a tendency to turn into oligarchy. Does this ring any bells..?
It’s a good article, and I would agree, some of the traditions are a bit pompous in the modern setting. But it’s all part of what represents the true identity of Britain as a nation, and the monarchy gives us the continuity most of us need and crave in a fast changing, culturally diverse world!
Britain, and the West in general, were built on strong traditions. Let’s kept them!
Who cares?
It’s nice to maintain the character and spectacle of old traditions which connect us to our inheritance, and ceremony in general fulfills the deep human need for fellow-feeling, unity and symbolic continuity.
Self-proclaimed ‘rationalists’ who believe that it’s important to criticize this kind of thing are simply unimaginative and boring.
Well said, Benedict.
I like reading Alex’s thoughtful articles but I disagree with this: “The loyalty is, I am told, less to the King, and more to the venerable English tradition which expressing loyalty to the King represents. This is no defence.” It is a defence, because it represents a valuable standard – loyalty to the country’s finest traditions. You could still have a record of your history in books, but it would be a more vacuous life for us all if all our old buildings were periodically replaced with new ones. Seeing the past in objects and traditions keeps it in our minds, and stimulates us to learn more about our history. No doubt it’s politically incorrect to say so, but it stimulates pride in our past and present.
And what’s the alternative? A president? If you combine your head of state with your head of government, you always have someone (often unprepared for the job) that half the population dislikes. If the government regularly chooses a non-entity as head of state, no one remembers who they are, they also have no training for the job, and there’s no meaning in their position.
Or maybe Right but Repulsive. I prefer Wrong but Romantic.
“Only 62% of people”. What politician wouldn’t dream of that sort of support? It is positively dictatorial that almost 2/3 of the population agree on a matter of personal loyalty. It would have been nice to get a citation of how publicly imagining the abolition of the monarchy is illegal when in reality it isn’t. Of course this isn’t the point – one scandal could bring the monarch down – but (like independence) the republicans only need to be right once and that isn’t the right way to decide things.
I admit a King without power is a bit of an anachronism, a contradiction in terms. However, the power a good King wields is in the bonds of affection and love he feels for his people, and they for him. No law can bind a rebellious people, but love binds where law fails to do so.
Oh, Lord our God arise
Conquer his enemies
And make them fall
May he defend our laws
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice
God save the king …………..
Or the Siamese version:
Owa tana Siam
Owa tana Sian
Owa tanit
Owa taphoo lamai
Owa taphoo lamai
Owa tana Siam
Owa tanit!
Surely the problem is the massive disparity between the pomp and circumstance of modern royal pageantry, and the rather more mundane reality of the modern UK?
I am currently reading a book (Castles of Steel) about the royal navy contribution to the First World War. At the Battle of Jutland, the UK’s Grand Fleet (the largest of several British fleets dispersed around the globe) numbered about 100 vessels. Today, the entire royal navy surface fleet numbers perhaps twenty fighting vessels. Jellicoe doubtless swore loyalty to King and empire a century ago, but that doesn’t make much sense today.
I don’t find find this argument convincing. The monarchy is a mediaeval institution. The British empire was predominantly a later development, more a product of parliamentary government than a royal initiative. If I remember correctly it was Disraeli who made Victoria Empress, probably for his own political advantage.
Unless you can demonstrate that a particular feature of the current monarchy is specifically a product of imperialism I don’t see any reason to change.