It’s always been easy to see the privilege. But no documentary can match The Crown in evoking the cost of that privilege
The royals were always a good sign that I wasn’t at home. Other people’s houses had bits of regal memorabilia, royal weddings on the TV, copies of Majesty lying around. Mine didn’t and I grew up finding the whole monarchy business a bit absurd, even embarrassing – shouldn’t a grownup country have a more rational system for choosing its heads of state than relying on accidents of birth? The Diana circus passed me by, I skipped the 2002 golden jubilee and was irritated when the Kate-William wedding in 2011 turned Pippa Middleton’s bum into a figure of popular culture.
So I don’t really know how it happened that I became obsessed with The Crown, Netflix’s dramatisation of the reign of Elizabeth II. Series four will take us through from the tail end of the 1970s, with the arrival of Margaret Thatcher, to the early 1990s. But here I am, sprawled all over a sofa that is distinctly out of keeping with the gorgeous interiors on the show, coming to the end of another riveted binge on the lives of people I once thought were barely even worth holding in contempt.
Continue reading...from The Guardian https://ift.tt/35uIn4u
