From juvenile grief to adult joy, Harry’s journey melts our hearts
ALIP-READER told the world what he said. When Meghan Markle arrived at the top of the aisle, given away by her soon-to-be father-inlaw Prince Charles, his son Harry beamed at his bride and said: ‘You look amazing. I’m so lucky.’
Pretty much every groom in history probably has said exactly the same or something similar, but the enduring mystique of Britain’s royal family is that emotion has traditionally been buttoned up, duty and protocol being far more important than any public expression of inner feeling.
Indeed, just a generation ago, in an interview after his engagement to Diana, Charles infamously responded, when the reporter presumed he was in love, with the oddly tetchy and off-kilter response: ‘Whatever “in love” is.’
Maybe because he is Diana’s son, Harry is much more generous with that love and affection, and his private words, publicly revealed, were perhaps the most significant break with the past than some of the more heralded aspects of Saturday’s wedding.
His new wife the daughter of an African-American woman. An actress rather than a minor member of another European royal family or a well-brought-up young lady from the Home Counties.
A rousing sermon from an Episcopalian American bishop, far removed from the soothing fireside chats of archbishops of Canterbury down the years.
The guestlist peppered with the new royalty of sport and showbiz, the Beckhams, the Cordens, the Clooneys, Serena Williams, Oprah Winfrey.
A gospel choir singing Stand By Me, a secular interlude between the ancient hymns. A bridal party consisting solely of children (and in this, perhaps mindful of the Pippa Middleton effect, Meghan made sure she wasn’t going to be upstaged by anyone).
All of these things point, perhaps, to a more casual mainland Europestyle future for the monarchy in the UK, and the jury is out on whether that necessarily will be a good thing.
Many still cling to the notion of the stiff upper lip and regard any wobble of the lower one with disdain.
For those on the streets of Windsor, though, it was universally seen as something positive. If Diana, in interviews after her separations and divorce, lobbed a hand grenade at the House of Windsor, it created space for her sons to be their own men, and that they certainly are.
When they climbed out of a minibus and walked the last few hundred metres to St George’s Chapel, few of an age could divorce the image from that of two bereft boys forced to walk behind the hearse carrying their mother on her final journey, an indelible picture of bewildered juvenile grief that somehow became a circle squared on Saturday.
That it all took place on the most perfect early summer day imaginable was an almost cinematic dream, and the world’s cameras lapped it all up.
Saturday provided an endless
series of memorable images – the light filtering into the church that bathed the bride in a chiaroscuro halo, the close-ups of her mother Doria Ragland, seated alone and on the verge of tears, the clearly unbreakable bond of brothers who came through unimaginable teenage loss, the kiss, and the carriage ride up the Long Walk to Europe’s biggest castle.
IT IS easy, living in a republic, to scoff at the idea of privilege by birth alone, and there are many in Ireland who very vocally declared their intention to give coverage of the wedding a very wide berth, and berated RTÉ and TV3 for showing it at all.
In Windsor, it was very clear that the rest of the world had few such reservations, with television crews literally crawling around the streets documenting every minute of the build-up and the ceremony itself.
For some viewers, it was all about The Dress. For others, the allure of another so-called commoner entering the ranks of royalty, a fish-outof-water fantasy along the lines of The Princess Diaries. For many more, a chance to look over the garden wall at the neighbours’ child embarking on the big day.
In Windsor, for those on the streets, it was a carnival, a chance to see the couple up close and to celebrate (and many were drinking at 9am, and probably seeing in double vision by the time the procession passed).
To the casual observer, though, it was a great deal more simple.
When all of it is boiled down, it was about two people in love starting out on life together, a life that is going to be conducted in the public eye.
There is no guarantee it will be easy, because the downside of privilege is that Harry and Meghan will be subject to scrutiny few among us would welcome or desire.
After the euphoria of such an enormous day comes the cold reality of making a marriage work. Only the most curmudgeonly would wish them anything but well.