Relatability and the royals have not traditionally been obvious bedfellows and, for many, that is part of their charm. Britain’s first family have, historically, been placed on a pedestal above the rest of their subjects not because they’re identifiable, but because their right to reign over us – decided by the divine right of kings, no less – has been justified by their remaining aloof from the cares and concerns of everyday life. Their famous maxim – ‘never complain, never explain’ – was widely, and rightly, believed to refer to how they are unanswerable to transitory concerns. They are, after all, long to reign over us, happy and glorious.
Therefore, it comes as both a shock and disappointment that Prince William is attempting to make himself seem less like a king-in-waiting and more like one of the hapless dads from Amandaland. He has given an ill-advised interview to the Heart Radio breakfast show – not quite Paxman on Newsnight, or even Eugene Levy, but we’ll let that one go – in which he declared: ‘Yes, there’s a lot of jam sandwiches taken in the car, usually. Louis is very kind. He’ll leave jam fingerprints throughout the car, which is really helpful. It depends if there is a guitar lesson going on in the morning, a music lesson… you’ve got to get the guitar in the car.’
Leaving aside the vaguely David Brent associations that this suggests – ‘go and get the guitar!’ – William’s credentials were further dented by his recounting his family’s arguments (‘No, we’re not taking the guitar and we need to take the bag for school’. ‘Are we boarding, are we not?’ ‘Are we seeing friends?’ ‘No we’re not’) and, in an especially cringeworthy moment, the Prince of Wales apparently addressed his children on live radio, saying ‘Charlotte and Louis, as George was boarding last night… if you’re listening to this, please make sure you are on time. Make sure you’re not fighting over who’s listening to what this morning.’
It remains unclear as to precisely what the point of this interview was, other than attempting to make William look like a good-natured but harassed man of the people. This, to be fair, is something that he and those around him have been working on for a considerable time, in an apparently conscious attempt to make him look accessible and far less stuffy than his culture-loving aesthete of a father. King Charles visits the Royal Shakespeare Company and is photographed in warm, informed conversation with its directors and actors; his eldest son, meanwhile, goes to watch his beloved Aston Villa play and holds receptions for the England football team. It is perfectly reasonable that William should have the same interests as the average 43-year old man but leaving aside what often comes across as a near-aggressive philistinism, what often cuts through is how contrived and, at times, dishonest this whole schtick is.
It comes as a disappointment that Prince William is attempting to make himself seem less like a king-in-waiting and more like one of the hapless dads from Amandaland
If you are going to be the next king, you do not lead a normal life, and nor do your family. Your every move is dogged by bodyguards and police protection and your every day is carefully timetabled, sometimes weeks or months in advance. It is nigh-on impossible to have a private life of any meaningful nature – salacious rumours notwithstanding – and the flip side to the undeniable privilege and wealth that the heir to the throne enjoys is that there is a degree of scrutiny and public interest in your every move that makes it somewhat akin to being a goldfish in a bowl. This was the metaphor that Cherie Blair used of life as the prime minister’s wife in No. 10 but at least that period eventually came to an end. Unless you are Edward VIII, bent on abdication so that you can marry the woman you love and selfishly letting your country go hang, no monarch has ever been able to enjoy a comparable moment of release.
Still, William’s attempts to portray himself as a frazzled father, half-heartedly imposing discipline on his rowing children, are at least diverting in their unlikeliness. It would be more believable, as well as more sympathetic, if William was ever to give a public interview saying how fed up he was with his younger brother or his errant uncle or any other member of the royal family who richly deserves censure.
If he was to repeat his supposed comments that Andrew was ‘an ignoramus’ and ‘a creep’, as reported by Andrew’s biographer Andrew Lownie, he would find that the vast majority of his future subjects not only agreed with him, but would find his candour both surprising and genuinely refreshing. It is this, rather than his centrist dad-level moaning about sticky fingerprints left on car seats, that he should be doing, but unfortunately it seems unlikely that we can expect such a volte-face any time soon.
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