Last night, we found ourselves watching Spencer, the movie about a family Christmas that the Princess of Wales enjoyed/endured after she and Charles had separated. I’m cynical enough to suspect that it wasn’t entirely true but that’s showbiz.
In fact, it was a cleverly made movie and would satisfy the various prejudices of those who think such things matter. If you believe that Diana was a manipulative, self-centred prima donna, there was enough evidence in the movie to prove that you are right. On the other hand, if your belief is that she was the innocent victim of a reactionary family obsessed with controlling every facet of how they were perceived by the public, that’s all there too.
If like me, you have no opinion, maybe find something else to fill in your time.
For me, though, the riveting aspect was how much control the servants have in the grand scheme. It is like an enormously complex puppet show and can only function if everything is worked out before-hand. When a boy child turns 11 he is the right age to go shooting; what you wear is planned a week in advance, otherwise the servants wouldn’t know what to get ready. It’s to the point where nothing else matters but the program. Like a computer program which attains a life of its own, the protagonists for whom the program is written, become slaves to it.
Am I reading too much into it? Probably and maybe I’m not getting enough sleep.
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