A Long Coming We Had of it.

 

Well, it happened on 6 May 2023  - the Coronation of Charles and indeed his wife Camilla which some said never would. But there you go this is the 21st Century where it all hangs out and anything is possible if you wait long enough.

I watched the pageant at home whilst doing the ironing. Technology is wonderful in these circumstances because it was possible to pause the programme for a break or for tea and toast without missing anything. Having watched a previous Coronation, I am aware of how emotional these things can be.  It is the combination of the fanfares, the music ancient and modern, the choirs, the Abbey setting and the splendour of the robes the crowns and the bejewelled trinkets heavily bestowed with symbolism, which point up  the spectacle and heighten observer  awareness of the meaning and solemnity of it all.  This particular ceremony seemed to emphasise duty and the importance of not straying from the path of truth and  righteousness, which in the 21st Century are becoming somewhat anachronistic virtues and aspirations rather than realisable realities.  A pity really.

Also noticeable was the close relationship throughout the whole spectacle between church and state, swords unsheathed and Ms Mordaunt seemingly glued to the Monarch’s side and at the ready to wield hers should anything untoward arise in that part of the Abbey. She reminded me of a latter day Britannia.  The King did not get to say defender of faiths after all, which in a multi-faith Britain might have put some minds at rest.  However, there were enough reassurances mentioned and diverse religious individuals present to include those who might not have been C of E.  The bevvy of Lords so prominently massed behind the monarch at the last Coronation were seen only severally, dispersed throughout the congregation.  Perhaps they have been abolished already and we have yet to be told.    

Emotions were both stirred and shaken to the strains of the anthem of entry by Hubert Parry ‘I Was Glad’, and whose knees wouldn’t wobble, and eyes become moist to Zadoc the Priest?  Undressed and devoid of finery the prospective King, in that moment prior to his anointing,  looked vulnerable and I almost felt sorry for him, wondering how uneasy his head might be wearing this crown.  I wondered what he might be thinking at that moment.  And what his first steps would be into his new reality.   Only time will tell.

Once over, ironing done I took my first steps into this Carolingian age. Having been made acutely aware, and given a heightened sense of duty by the spectacle just witnessed, I cleaned the kitchen.

6 May 2023 

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