Monarch a symbol of a shared destiny
IT’S a noble beast, the Monarch of the Glen. So much so, Landseer’s majestic and really rather snooty looking stag has become a symbol of Scotland, the sort of idealised image every tourist wants a picture of to show the folks back home.
So much for that. Turns out the Monarch of the Glen, or the monarch bit at least, might not be Scottish. it seems likely the stag was part of a herd on Stoke park estate in Buckinghamshire, where the artist often painted. The background may be Scottish (Sir edwin Landseer spent time at Balmoral), but the beast could be as english as a hot buttered muffin.
But wait, there’s more. Turns out the stag’s not even a monarch either but a royal, as it has only 12 points on its antlers instead of the required 16. at this rate, i wouldn’t be surprised if the thing turned out to have been painted by Jack Vettriano.
Still, the Monarch of the Glen’s potential relegation does mean that the painting may join a long and illustrious list of Things Which aren’t actually Scottish after all despite Our Best efforts to Convince the World That They are.
There is haggis, the recipe for which was first printed in a cookbook entitled ‘the english Huswife’; there is whisky, the first written record of which was made in ireland; there is golf, which many historians believe was imported from France; and there is rod Stewart, who despite his finest efforts with a tartan bunnet and an eye-watering devotion to Celtic Football Club, will never be able to hide the fact that he was born within a See You Jimmy hat’s breadth of Bow Bells.
We do a lot of this in Scotland – claim things as ‘ours’ in an effort to dazzle the rest of the world, as though we were a pubescent schoolboy hoping to impress the girls with our ever expanding collection of Topps Football Cards. JK rowling? Scottish. The Bank of england? Scottish. donald Trump? Scott… oh, wait.
The fact that rowling merely resides in Scotland but actually hails from Gloucestershire, or that the Bank of england (clue is in the title) sits firmly in the City of London but was first proposed by a Scot, doesn’t seem to trouble us. World famous with a spurious Scottish connection? Come away in.
The reason for this, i think, is that for centuries Scotland has suffered from ‘small country syndrome’. it’s the thing that happens when you live next door to a much bigger country with loud voices and the Beatles and a football team that keeps inexplicably qualifying for the World Cup.
We in Scotland are possessive, fiendishly so, of our achievements and our people, always hyping up our contribution to the world in the hope it takes us seriously. after all, we did invent penicillin and the television.
none of this is bad, of course. in fact, it is often endearing, a uniquely Scottish trait that beautifully demonstrates the tortuous dichotomy of pride and insecurity that is the key marker of the Scots psyche. But it also means that when things are taken away from us (see under: haggis, whisky, golf, rod Stewart, and now the Monarch of the Glen), we do get rather prickly about it.
But, look, can’t it be both? Back in 2014 during referendum fever, many of those on the side of no (myself included) lauded the joy of a dual British identity. We revelled in the fluidity of our borders, the fact that our art and culture, our food and drink, our very selves, were influenced by the British isles as a whole. There was a phrase, as i remember: better together.
The Monarch of the Glen is a majestic fusion of our shared nation, a cohesive image that brings together two corners of the land in stunning harmony. Turns out, it might just be the ultimate British painting.