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| Britain |
| The day that dare not speak its name |
| 2007-04-24 |
| Happy St George's Day. You are, no doubt, preparing to wear your red rose to work or are packing the children off to school sporting a corsage of bluebells and primroses that they will proudly show off to their friends. Tonight, there will be a splendid supper party with such English culinary delights as Lancashire hotpot or shepherd's pie followed by readings from the works of the Bard, whose birthday also happens to fall today. In London, Ken Livingstone will lead the taxpayer-funded celebrations as Morris Dancers and hobby horses process through a capital festooned with flags bearing the cross of St George, while revellers will drink far too liberally of those quintessential flat bitters that knock other, darker, ales into a leprechaun's cocked hat. Dream on. This is the day that dare not speak its name. If you turned up at work with a rose in your lapel it would be assumed you were on your way to a wedding. While the Welsh would feel naked on St David's Day without their daffodils or leeks, and the Irish are happy to wander around in the middle of March wearing what looks like a handful of wilting spinach, the English would merely be embarrassed sporting their floral equivalents. A Scot reciting Scots Wha Hae or Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon might have a tear in his eye and a tremor in his voice; most Englishmen would have trouble remembering more than a few lines written by their greatest writer. And an invitation to celebrate both the English national day and Shakespeare in a combined replication of St Andrew's and Burns nights would be regarded with a mixture of puzzlement and deep suspicion. Unless Richard II is being performed somewhere tonight, there will be few extempore renditions of John of Gaunt's speech about "This royal throne of kings, this sceptr'd isle/This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars/This other Eden, demi-paradise...This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...'' (OK. I looked it up.) To be fair to Mayor Livingstone, he has made a gesture towards St George. At the weekend there were a number of events in the capital, including a formal march organised by the Royal Society of St George; and English music and dance was performed in Covent Garden. The Globe hosted a birthday party for Shakespeare and the cast of Spamalot, the Monty Python musical, will tonight seek to break the world record for the number of people playing in a coconut orchestra. Now, that must make you feel proud to be English. |
| Posted by:Fred |