by The Laird o’Thistle
Sept 19 2004

Well, I was originally planning to wax lyrical this month about the royals’ annual jaunt to the Highlands, but you all have been spared by an item that caught my eye among the Current Royal News postings. Excerpts from the new biography of the Queen and Prince Philip by Gyles Brandreth, published in the Telegraph on September 12, highlight the uneasy relationship between the Prince of Wales and his parents. The press reports about the book were quick to cite the Sovereign’s disapproval of her heir’s extravagance, and the hurt inflicted by his public portrayal of his “uncaring” parents some years back. The reports also seem to make the Princess Royal appear as rather dismissive and unsympathetic to her brother. As is too often the case, this reportage has given us the most sensationalistic bits, and those with a slightly skewed spin. Upon reading the actual published excerpts I found that the author’s portrayal and the sources he interviewed proved to be more subtle and nuanced.

One of the things I have learned over the years is that no two children really have the same parents. Not even identical twins. I am speaking relationally, of course, not biologically. Each child has a unique persona, and each child finds its own dynamic of relating to his or her parents. Perceptions of the dynamics and shared experiences of life often differ to an amazing degree. And for whatever reason, sometimes the best parental intentions are not enough to fix the incompatibilities that exist. One of the most famous examples of this is the biblical story of the twins Esau and Jacob. Esau was a hairy outdoorsman, rough and ready. Jacob was a more domestic and delicate type, a “mother’s boy.” The differing family dynamics that situation created went on to yield several of the best tales in the heritage of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. And those tales are still haunting the three religions nearly four millennia later!

Another example is found in the grand existential drama of The Lion in Winter. Over the years I think I have nearly memorized all the classic lines uttered by the late Katherine Hepburn in the award-winning film. (For instance, “If I’d managed to produce sons for Louis instead of daughters, we, my children would never have met. Such is the role of sex in history!”) The interweaving misunderstandings and rivalries and quests for love and acceptance projected onto the family of Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine during their Christmas reunion in France provides a compelling and exhausting evening of movie viewing. Why does Henry favor John? Why does Eleanor cherish Richard? Why does no one seem to care for poor Geoffrey? Whatever their rationalizing, in the end, they all just sort of realize that that is how things are, and they all move on dust themselves off and prepare to fight amongst themselves again another day. (“Come the resurrection I’ll strike you down again!”)

I could carry on into reflections on poor old King Lear and his daughters… but I suspect I have made my point. Sometimes parents and kids are simply incomprehensible to one another, and face each other wondering how on earth “He/she” could have come from me? Or, how “I” could have come from them?

The sad bit for all concerned in the real-life drama of the current royals is that it seems the current Prince of Wales just wasn’t quite fitted out from the womb to mesh easily with his rather phlegmatic parents. Perhaps he was a bit too much of a Jacob in a young family more suited for an Esau? (The latter role being somewhat ironically fulfilled by the tomboyish Princess Anne.) But in this drama, at least, there was a sympathetic and bereaved Granny standing in the wings, one for whom the handling of shy princes was a lifelong specialty. Once before Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon had taken a sensitive and ill-at-ease young Windsor, and nurtured him along to become a King. But in this second case, her grandson also naturally shared her penchant for things of beauty, and her love of “little treats,” and so on. Unfortunately, young Charlie did not quite inherit his the overwhelming charm, and the canny skill at airily waving aside practical concerns, that helped the Queen Mother get away with so much in her long and somewhat enchanted life. For him some “goon” – I use the term advisedly – keeps popping up to say, “Wait just a minute!” And so the story continues….

Thankfully, at least this week’s reports also include the affirmation of Charles’ own success as a father, in the wonderful snap of the relaxed Wales family released for Prince Harry’s 20th birthday. And oddly enough, perhaps the truest “grit” Prince Charles has ever shown in life is in his adherence to Mrs. Parker Bowles despite all opposition from his own family and the public.

So, are the Queen and Prince Philip right and justified in their views of the Prince of Wales? Probably. Is the Prince of Wales right and justified in his view of his parents? Probably. Are they all a bit off or wrong in their perceptions? Probably. In the realm of human relationships truth is always perceptional and multiple. It is never quite as simple as “just the facts, Ma’am.” The main challenge, I think, as we all age and gain perspective is for each and all to let go of our reactionary urges about what “ought to have been” and to embrace and cherish one another with such grace as is available to us. And as the Princess Royal comments in Brandreth’s book, compared to some families the Mountbatten-Windsors have really done fairly well.

So, then, having dealt with that distraction, I hope you will all keep an eye out for when the Queen of Scots strolls across from Holyrood House in a few weeks to welcome her new neighbors – the Scottish Parliament – into their new digs next door.

– Ken Cuthbertson