Charles At 60
Nov. 13th, 2008 11:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poliphiloPrince Charles is 60. Funny bloke.
I'm of the same generation as him- two years younger. He's always been there, just a little ahead of me- enjoying his schooldays (ha!) going to university, travelling abroad. I got married before he did. We both made a horlicks of our first marriage.
When Ailz comments- as she so often does- on my thinning hair, I say, "No, that's Prince Charles you're thinking of."
There was a specially commissioned, entirely grovelling BBC documentary about him last night. He seems to spend his life talking. He says he listens, but we didn't see any of that. His staff say that when he's not there to talk at them he sends them handwritten memos. Has there ever been a man so full of opinions?
Perhaps he should write a blog.
The Prince's Trust seems to do good work. We saw him in Burnley- on a mission to save the town from itself. Believe me, Burnley needs saving. His views on agriculture and architecture are harder to swallow. Actually I think they're batty.
We got a stroll round his gardens at Highgrove. They're very lovely. The Prince's walk (so-named) has topiary to die for. In a nook of the garden- beyond the arena of tree stumps- very creepy- which he's dedicated to the memory of his gran- is a private chapel. So private we didn't get to look inside. The Bishop of London ("We were at Cambridge together") consecrated it for him. All the measurements are based on the measurements of Charles' own body- the length of his outstretched arms, of his finger joints. Solipsistic? Yes, just a little.
He says that when we switched from traditional measurements to decimal, we "lost our connection to the universe".
Ailz and I were discussing him in bed afterwards. We agreed that he seems happier, more at ease with himself since he married Camilla. He twinkles as he talks, talks, talks.
That twinkle reminds me of Olivier's Lear in the opening scene of the play- a man entirely sure of his welcome, of his own charm and amiability. And who wouldn't be sure of his charm if everyone in the neighbourhood bowed or curtsied and called him "Sir" and listened with smiles while he talked?
I'm of the same generation as him- two years younger. He's always been there, just a little ahead of me- enjoying his schooldays (ha!) going to university, travelling abroad. I got married before he did. We both made a horlicks of our first marriage.
When Ailz comments- as she so often does- on my thinning hair, I say, "No, that's Prince Charles you're thinking of."
There was a specially commissioned, entirely grovelling BBC documentary about him last night. He seems to spend his life talking. He says he listens, but we didn't see any of that. His staff say that when he's not there to talk at them he sends them handwritten memos. Has there ever been a man so full of opinions?
Perhaps he should write a blog.
The Prince's Trust seems to do good work. We saw him in Burnley- on a mission to save the town from itself. Believe me, Burnley needs saving. His views on agriculture and architecture are harder to swallow. Actually I think they're batty.
We got a stroll round his gardens at Highgrove. They're very lovely. The Prince's walk (so-named) has topiary to die for. In a nook of the garden- beyond the arena of tree stumps- very creepy- which he's dedicated to the memory of his gran- is a private chapel. So private we didn't get to look inside. The Bishop of London ("We were at Cambridge together") consecrated it for him. All the measurements are based on the measurements of Charles' own body- the length of his outstretched arms, of his finger joints. Solipsistic? Yes, just a little.
He says that when we switched from traditional measurements to decimal, we "lost our connection to the universe".
Ailz and I were discussing him in bed afterwards. We agreed that he seems happier, more at ease with himself since he married Camilla. He twinkles as he talks, talks, talks.
That twinkle reminds me of Olivier's Lear in the opening scene of the play- a man entirely sure of his welcome, of his own charm and amiability. And who wouldn't be sure of his charm if everyone in the neighbourhood bowed or curtsied and called him "Sir" and listened with smiles while he talked?
no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 05:20 pm (UTC)At one time in England, *all* measurements were supposedly based on the King's body. I doubt that was literally true, but it's a powerful idea. And for a poor gink who never had a chance to grow up to be normal, I can imagine it having even more power.
I honestly have to agree with him about decimal measurement, but then I've never been able to see decimal measurement as anything but a ridiculous and unnecessary abstraction. A foot, a pint, a pound (in the sense of weight) are more than just numbers, they're distinct entities that have a history behind them, a reason for existing, and a sense of solidity. They relate to existing phenomena, to everyday human life. A meter, a liter, a kilo? Just numbers somebody pulled out of their *ahem*. The old measurement system is human; the decimal system is abhuman. That's how it looks from my point of view.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 07:35 pm (UTC)I grow up with the old weights and measures and I've never adapted. I know roughly how much a foot is, but I haven't a clue about a metre- and so on and so forth. It's the same with temperature; I know what 80 degrees farenheit feels like, but the centigrade system is just numbers to me.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 07:49 pm (UTC)Also, to me, metrics has always had that faint flavor of Kamazotz. Not appealing, to say the least.