The Queen’s Death and the Need for Reassurance
My country is in mourning — and it’s a bizarre thing
Here in the UK, there is a perplexing series of events taking place.
As I write, the queue to see the Queen’s coffin as it lies in state in Westminster Hall is three miles long. It winds around the streets of London, block after block. People have queued through the night, with many waiting eight hours to spend the briefest of moments in front of the guarded coffin, before the lavish funeral on Monday.
Meanwhile, our television channels and news outlets cover the Queen’s death with unceasing devotion. Anybody who has ever had a passing connection with the late monarch is being invited in front of the cameras and asked to recount their most benevolent memories.
She was part of the cultural furniture, the only head of state that most of the country has ever known. Her face appears on every coin and banknote across the land.
The two most ubiquitous phrases used in relation to the Queen in the last seven days have been duty and service. “Her commitment to duty was unceasing,” is a typical compliment. Or else “She was a truly dedicated servant.”
It is more difficult to say exactly what her service and duty were towards, except that for pretty much every day…
