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Royalty and Reality
by Patrick Field

Henry Ford, inventor of the production-line, famously declared that 'history is a bunk'; meaning -- I think -- that history is a subject unworthy of consideration, or rather was a subject unworthy of consideration. Unlike Mr. Ford, Cycling Sideways believes in the value of studying history. Knowledge of the past helps us to understand the present and plan to make best use of the future. And, in CS's tradition of stating the obvious, let us never forget that the future is all that we have left.

As CS predicted in January 1994 (you heard it here first kids) the heir apparent to the Norman crown, the wanna-be Charles the III, is to divorce. Whether you consider this happenstance a tragedy, a farce or less interesting than the size and condition of the steel-balls in the pedals of your least-loved bike, it is undoubtedly an historically resonant event.

The sordid details of the Charles and Diana story (£10,000 a year on therapy? That's more than I spend on bikes.) are taken as examples of aberrant behaviour that sets the latest generation of the British ruling dynasty apart from their sober and dutiful forbears. This interpretation cannot withstand historical analysis. The Kings and Queens of England used their wealth and influence to indulge in all manner of excesses. It was Albert, Victoria's Consort who redefined the monarch as servant of the State. It is the austere crop of figure-heads conforming to the Victorian model who are exceptional. The, mostly frivolous, upcoming generation are closer to regal tradition. Their problem is that contemporary mass-communication allows access to the mundane detail of their lives. Nobody's life stays heroic under such close scrutiny.

It is interesting to speculate why the clan chose to forego the theatre, the brothel, the banquet and the binge, to abstain from the kind of fast living which had been the family norm since their armoured ancestors grabbed the country in 1066. During the Nineteenth Century they were haunted by memories of the French Revolution, later the collapse of the German, Austro-Hungarian and Russian Imperial houses made them shy of high-profile, lavish living. On the first (slightly out of date) World maps I ever saw, half the land was coloured pink. Jurisdiction over an Empire was a further pressure on British Monarchs to behave in a deserving and responsible manner, but the strange concept of the hard-working monarch was mostly a product of the new industrial age.

It was in the Victorian era that work became sanctified,when the getting of wealth became more worthy and important than dispensing and enjoying it. This was an age when 'progress' was something in which everyone believed, a time when it was anticipated that the miracles of science and technology would set humanity free from animal existence. A monarch living a fantasy life of luxury on our behalf was redundant. A life of fantastic luxury was waiting for us, or for our children, just a few short years ahead. The dream of paradise through progress peaked in the 1960's, as Harold Wilson discussed the white-heat of the technological revolution over a cup of tea with George Best and the Beatles at Number Ten, and Neil Armstrong played hopscotch on the moon. No one peeled potatoes or did the washing on the Starship Enterprise. Life was pressing buttons and boldly going.

The dream of progress always had a nightmare element. Dark satanic mills, Gettysberg and the Somme, asbestosis, the Nazi Holocaust, Hiroshima, Bhopal and Chernobyl. At Yom Kippur 1973 a short War in the Middle-East revealed that the edifice of progress rested on shaky geo-political foundations. The price of gasoline quadrupled in a few months. Having just passed my driving test I took it personally.

When I was young people still used to say that 'the best things in life are free', today no one ever does. Now it is understood that the best things in life -- fresh air, clean water, countryside, dark skies, starlight, happy families, love -- are priceless. The world of work and money is no longer separate from these precious commodities. It threatens their existence.

Its nice to have a purpose, a reason to get out of bed before noon but work is not a condition of life. We must look at the costs as well as the rewards of encouraging people to define their identities and derive their sense of self-worth only from their occupations.

As the dream of a technological future turns sour, the appetite for contemporary fantasy returns; witness, double-roll-over Lottery fever. Relationships fail for many reasons but part of Charles' and Diana's mismatch is that in 1973 he was an adult and she a child. Charles, with his organic farms, model villages and dull adultery with frumpy housewife is still striving to be a worker-monarch in Wellington boots. Diana who dallies with super-star athletes, appears mysteriously at the bed-sides of the dying, wants to be 'Queen of Hearts'; to reinvent herself as a demi-goddess for the post-industrial age.

As the mechanical wonders of the 19th Century fall out of use (Cut to wide-shot of piles of discarded motion-picture cameras then pan round to reveal a stack of typewriters with weeds growing out of them.) the bicycle remains to reunify our lives; to remind us that machines work and people live. On a bike you understand that technology makes life easier but that it can never change the physical limits of existence. In pictures Charles never looks comfortable on a bike, like everything else he does it seems to be a duty rather than a pleasure. As Diana selects a ride profile on the L.E.D. display of a state-of-the-art exercise bike at the Chelsea Harbour Gym does she yearn for the open-road? The tag 'bicycle riding monarchy' is used as a faintly derogatory short-hand for the low-rent royal houses of the Netherlands and Scandinavia. Royalist and republican, sympathiser and sceptic should agree that, had the players in our own sorry soap (Dynasty?) spent more time riding their bikes, they would have evolved a more harmonious existence for themselves and perhapseven for the institution they personify.

Incidentally Henry Ford also said "The most beautiful things in the world are those from which all excess weight has been eliminated." He's history.


© Patrick Field
Cycling & Mountain Biking Today, May 1996

 

other stories by P. Field

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