The chimes they are a-changin’

I HAVEN’T always been a fan of the Westminster chimes.

I was once helping relatives move house. Their grandmother clock had been meticulously bound-around and taped in bubble wrap. And as soon as it was lifted, it started to chime.

It kept on chiming all the way from the old house to the new one. Not marking the quarter, half or the hour, but continuously and tinnily. Like tinnitus, in fact.

It chimed all the way up the stairs and into its designated room where I immediately found a sharp implement, sliced open the bubble wrap, found the lever that had slipped and flipped it back.

I thought then that if I never heard that “bing-bong bing-bong” again it would be too soon. So it came as a surprise when I heard the chimes of Big Ben over the news stories about its falling silent for repairs, and found myself moved.

I don’t think I’m particularly nostalgic, patriotic or traditional, I’m not wild about clocks or bells or indeed the Palace of Westminster – it’s high time it was turned into a museum and the Parliament moved somewhere designed for people who don’t

Big Ben has bonged its way into what passes for my soul

spend most of their time at their gentlemen’s club.

But those chimes have apparently bonged their way into what passes for my soul and they’ve done it without my even realising.

They’ve always been there. On the news on TV and radio, in films, even in real life if you can afford the fare to London.

Not tinny but deep and grand and solid. Instantly recognisable, not just telling you where you are but who you are, who everyone who shares your island is and who your forebears were. They suggest continuity, constancy, even, dare I mention it again, a soul.

In short, the chimes of Big Ben are a national symbol. But of what nation?

Maybe it’s my age or maybe it’s the indisputable fact that we are going to hell in a handcart, but it seems the nation Big Ben symbolises barely exists any more. By the time the chimes start up again in four years it could well be a complete shambles.

So maybe it’s apt that they should be silenced now. Maybe they should stay quiet forever.

Maybe Big Ben’s time is over.