Mourning, noon and night
TIME can be a tricky blighter.
It feels like it was a long time ago that we heard of the death of the Queen. So much has happened in just seven or eight days. Yet her late majesty’s state funeral is still two days away.
The outpouring of grief and affection for her is a sight to behold and reflects the lifetime and work of a monarch who was truly loved and appreciated.
There can be no doubt she was a truly historic figure, a force for good in a world often torn apart by conflict, evil, and megalomaniacs with a lust for power.
Her constancy as Queen and head of the Commonwealth, across seven decades, has had massive benefits which are impossible to quantify.
But while it is absolutely right and fair to expect that millions will want to pay their respects, either in person or watching on television from afar, it is also fair to ask how much of this pageantry and drama we really need.
It is not disrespectful to wonder if 10 days of such pomp and circumstance, from her death to her funeral, is too long. How long is long enough?
If it all seems somewhat over the top here, on the other side of the world, spare a thought for those in Britain who are either not monarchists, or who are but are not the sort to wallow in the maudlin.
At the moment it seems like most evenings are spent in saturnine mood staring at a coffin. We can even watch a livestream of the Queen lying in state in Westminster Hall if we wish.
Many news programmes on many channels are devoted to the Queen and coverage of her life and achievements. Often these are repeated frequently and the hushed, lachrymose tones of the commentators become irritating and ripe for imitation. On BBC and TVNZ alike, hosts are still dressed in black.
After watching during the past week, few could argue that Britain does this kind of colourful military ceremony better than most.
Flowing swans’ feathers adorning helmets, scarlet tunics, gold buttons, crowns containing priceless gems, swords and instruments polished to within an inch of their life, pages, heralds, proclamations, parchment, 21gun salutes — it offers an incredible spectacle. Just because other countries don’t do this sort of thing doesn’t mean Britain shouldn’t.
But it can appear eccentric, even ‘‘bonkers’’ to coin a word
Kim Hill was using on RNZ’s one day this week.
And it also appears excessive, and very expensive.
There have been some lighter moments during the past week which the Queen would probably have enjoyed — commentators offering us the doublemeaning and uncomfortablesounding fact that ‘‘the Queen was borne on a guncarriage’’, and the incredibly acrobatic effort of guards ‘‘marching with their arms reversed’’.
Then of course we had King Charles’ struggles with fountain pens, though given the stress he is under nobody can really blame him for getting irked.
Given the Queen’s love for duty and devotion, it’s easy to imagine that by now she might well be telling mourners it’s time to get back to work.
The Sun does come up, even when the Queen dies.