Why most women are either a Diana or a Camilla
Penny Junor’s riveting biography of the Duchess of Cornwall has been revelatory on a number of levels.
It’s not just that it offers a new perspective on the War of the Waleses; it’s also the way it contextualises events — and provides the missing narrative in that toxic love triangle: Camilla’s.
There’s another fascination, too. reading the details of Diana’s behaviour towards Camilla and vice versa, I realised that each of the women in Charles’s life represents the opposite side of the female psyche. Basically, the world is divided into two types of women: Dianas and Camillas.
on the face of it, the Dianas have the upper hand. They are bewitching and beautiful, desirable and desired; but perhaps because of this they have an inherent selfishness they are not even aware of.
They can be vain, petulant and impatient, sometimes cruel; but they are also capable of showing great affection — provided, of course, it is reciprocated.
Camillas are the pit-ponies to the Dianas’ thoroughbreds. They have to work hard to get noticed, since their appeal is not always obvious.
But in doing so they acquire traits the Dianas often lack, such as an ability to fit in, to make others feel at ease, to entertain and enjoy life as it comes. Far from craving adoration, they’re just grateful if anyone can remember their name.
UNLIKE the Dianas, who when vexed, bored or, worst of all, ignored ( indifference is what angers them most) are capable of the most destructive behaviour, the Camillas tend to put up and shut up.
When displeased, the Diana will be found bashing up the furniture or indulging in melodramatic gestures — such as throwing themselves down flights of stairs while pregnant — the Camilla will vent her frustration by doing something useful, like sorting the sock drawer.
she will, if necessary, put her foot down; but she will always put the good of others over her own needs.
you may argue that it was because of this characteristic that Camilla’s two children, Tom and laura, enjoyed a relatively stable upbringing, aware of their parents’ shenanigans but not party to much of it. Poor William and Harry, by contrast, seem to have been fully caught up in the nightmare.
That is not to say that all Camillas are saints; they can be stubborn, and their practical streak can spill over into controlling behaviour. But on the whole, they are comforting, calming creatures, the ideal anchors for difficult men with ambitions.
Trouble is, men being men, tend to go after the glittering trophies, the more glamorous Dianas. unless, of course, they are intelligent enough to be like Charles.
That is the great irony of the whole saga. The Prince had already made a very shrewd choice when he first fell for Camilla. He had found the perfect companion — the sort of witty, earthy female who loved him not so much because of who he was, but despite it.
But he was compelled instead by stuffy royal convention to marry a girl who had ‘kept herself tidy’. Diana was also an adolescent with a head full of romantic nonsense, a girl who, during their honeymoon, had already decided that her new husband was a frightful old bore.
More devastatingly, she was a girl who, lacking the maturity to deal with the situation, simply dug in her heels and, like Violet elizabeth Bott, ‘scweamed and scweamed and scweamed until she was sick’. And in so doing, nearly brought down the monarchy.