“King Charles III” does not roll off the tongue. Almost eight months after he became monarch, and on the eve of his coronation, it still seems difficult to utter this title in full acceptance and seriousness. But of course, it is very serious. It is bank holiday, Westminster Abbey, 1,000-years-of-history, many-millions-of-taxpayers’-money serious. Although we are reminded that this is a less lavish coronation than Elizabeth II’s, it occurs amid dire economic circumstances, of which ordinary people are bearing the brunt. They may be feeling compelled to ask: “Is it worth it?”
Admittedly, the queen was a tough act to follow. There she was, a constant powdery fixture, waving and smiling when appropriate, addressing the nation from one mansion or another when required, brightly adorned in colourful, near-fluorescent hues as if to prevent us from forgetting her existence. Her head was on the money in crowned profile. We were aware of her every time we used a cash machine, this white-haired great-grandmother dutifully serving in luxury at the expense of the very note you have just extracted from said cash machine, not to mention the financial legacies of empire and colonialism. The morality of the arrangement was always dubious, but the staid undeniability of tea and the queen as two tenets of Britishness endured – sweet, mild, harmless, even while associated with some of the unresolved crimes of history.
