Family drama
The British royals may have weathered centuries of scandal, but their dynasty keeps on rolling along
To begin with, the tweedy style of the prince's new bride is a plus. Princess Diana, indeed, was a rare exception to the contented frumpiness of royalty. The women of the royal family have seldom been great beauties, nor were they expected to be--one need look only at their portraits over the centuries to realize that the throne is not a prize in a beauty contest. Diana's good looks, her flashing "bedroom eyes," and her lively, sophisticated interests allowed her to chart a successful course for herself to international celebrity and stardom (much to the all-too-evident displeasure of her husband) but did not in fact represent a viable long-term approach to the task of being "a royal." Momentarily dazzled by the Princess of Wales, the British public took her to its heart after her divorce, but one doubts that Diana would have remained popular over the long haul had she reached the throne--in much the same way that the breezy, cheerful vulgarity of Sarah, Duchess of York ("Fergie") would have palled eventually had she chosen to remain married to the duke.
Part of this lies in the difference between what foreigners expect of royalty and what the British themselves expect. Princess Diana was comfortable in the world outside the United Kingdom, particularly the haut monde. As a fashion icon, as a celebrity, as a person whose private life seemed to have been scripted by Joan Collins, she moved at ease in the world of the international rich, famous, and glamorous (as her sister-in-law Fergie, on a smaller scale, moves at ease as a spokesperson for Weight Watchers and author of children's books). This concept of royalty, last epitomized by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, seems appropriate to those who see Britain becoming an intrinsic part of the new Europe, with its political capital in Brussels and its institutions being gradually "modernized" to mesh with those of France, Germany, and, say, Finland, as well as those (a somewhat different group) for whom London to New York to Los Angeles and back is a seamless commute.
But whether royalty is, as John Osborne memorably put it, "the gold teeth in a mouthful of decay" or simply the icing on the British cake, the royal family's real skill since Queen Victoria came to the throne lies in its uncanny ability to connect with the aspirations and the self-image of the British middle class and to turn itself into one of the basic institutions--perhaps the basic institution--that define Great Britain and make it different from other countries. Royals, as a rule, do not fit comfortably into "cafe society," or cruise the Riviera on the yachts of Middle Eastern businessmen, or hobnob comfortably with movie stars. Parker Bowles, in her flowing tweeds, baggy sweaters, and sensible gumboots, apparently content to slog through mud and gorse to watch the Prince of Wales kill a few more pheasants, is in fact far more in the familiar tradition of royalty than was Princess Diana, and the bulk of the British public--that part of it that the royal family cares most about--is likely to develop a good deal of affection for her no-nonsense style and down-to-earth view of life quite quickly. It would have been better for poor Prince Charles, no doubt, if he could have married her in the first place. She would have been comfortable with his interest in organic gardening (including his somewhat eyebrow-raising plans to use human waste to fertilize the soil at Highgrove, his country house), his odd ideas about architecture, and his love of country sports and would have been unlikely to make a career of upstaging him before the world press. She and the prince are also said to share the same "bawdy" sense of humor--a terrifying thought for anybody who has ever attended an upper-class English school. (The royal family has a tradition of somewhat off-color humor, best exemplified by George V's comment in the mid-1930s to the prime minister, when the foreign secretary, Samuel Hoare, met in Paris with Pierre Laval and was obliged to resign his office after effectively approving Mussolini's conquest of Abyssinia. "No more coals to Newcastle, no more Hoares to Paris," said the king, with a loud guffaw--which is about as good as it gets for royal joke-making.)
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