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The Spike or Victoria College Review 1937

This Year of Blah

page 14

This Year of Blah

Since Spike was last published, observers have had the unique opportunity of being able to watch an empire run the gamut of its hysterical reactions. A spectacle far from edifying, it has nevertheless provided the sociologist with excellent research material, and even to the lay mind, it has been apparent that the intensity of the emotions has been unnatural. On enquiry there seems little doubt that these fluctuations of mass hysteria can be largely, though not entirely, traced to the influence of the press.

For years the British press has found that if "a smart, well-dressed royalty is good for the tourist trade" it is also good for the press business. Nothing has had quite the same sales value as Royalty, so for over a generation the fourth estate has pushed the line of Royalty, and pushed it hard. Each Fleet Street paper has vied with the others in featuring bigger and better adulatory remarks on the Royal family, and Empire papers unable to obtain first-hand information have outdone one another in reprinting these features.

With the advent of Mrs. Simpson, Fleet Street was placed in an awkward position—to suggest that the revered monarch was consorting with a divorcee, was not only to expose their own fabrications but was also likely to ruin their sales—so they remained silent. In maintaining this silence the action was in accord with the traditional Government policy of keeping the Royal lilies whitewashed, and so the press earned the blessing of the Cabinet.

With the abdication came public disillusionment. At first there was incredulity, then screaming rage against the idol for having its feet of clay. The press played its part in heeling and leading the flock at one and the same time. Amazing was the ease with which the labels that less than a year before been fastened on Edward were now plastered over George—and even more amazing was the manner in which the public refused to face the fact of their insincerity. Instead, a nettled people looked for a scapegoat, and the papers pointing towards Edward (not towards themselves), the chase was taken up.

As to the wisdom of the abdication it is impossible to form a judgment, future generations will have that opportunity. There is little doubt that Mrs. Simpson's two divorces were a gift from heaven, and that the British ruling class as personified in Baldwin and Cosmo Lang embraced the opportunity of ridding themselves of a caddish monarch who did not play their game of keeping up the old traditions.

The inanity of the Royalty blah having been exposed so conclusively it would be thought that the press would abandon this puerile custom, but the public having been conditioned to the absorption of blah, could not exist without it. If the monarchial institution is to be maintained the public will pay for its pap, so, in the issue following the formal abdication announcement the boosting game is continued. "The Times finds the aloofness of George VI a matter of appearance only, to be dispelled by five minutes' talk."1 The tone is a little subdued but the trend of the remarks is the same as those that initiated Edward VIII's reign. If the use of the same superlative cliches on three monarchs in as many years is becoming a trifle hollow, there is a new approach, and that is to credit the new by discrediting the old. "George VI brings a priceless asset that his briefly-reigned predecessor did not possess—a wife and family." This wife and family note is an excellent one, penetrating the hearts of all people and can be played with the loud pedal from the start. Photos of the mother and "little" princesses (sweet innocents all) flood the papers, while articles and books dripping with the syrup of sentimentality circulate by the thousand. An article, "Royal Taste in Arts"2 is a typical example of the "up the new. down the old" theme. Mentioning how the harp is played by the Queen (the angel!) this article explains that "Jazz is never heard in the Princesses' nursery. Nor does the Queen herself like it." the moral apparently being—look what jazz did for Uncle David. So we have been treated to detailed descriptions of how the racing stud has been maintained, the Sandringham employees repatriated, the old-fashioned Queen Mother put on a fuss, and the Archbishop of Canterbury helped at the Garden Party.

Thus up to the eve of Coronation preparations were there hyperbolical laudings of the present family at Edward's expense. Then with the radio to aid it. the press is spurred to greater efforts in dealing out to the public apocryphal stories of the Royal virtues, while at the same time it explains away the King's stutter and page 15 left-handedness. So well is the affair stage-managed that one wonders how much is spontaneously done by the press and how much is put forward by the Government. Whatever is the true position, the ruling class of Great Britain must derive considerable satisfaction from knowing that the press and the radio have the public so Royalty conscious, that any efforts on the part of the administration to rouse "loyal" emotions are eminently successful.

Comes the event, and in an endeavour to describe worthily the climax the public has been led to expect, the press almost has verbal apoplexy. "Then were beaten the drums. In their mellow thunder are heard the drums of England that beat right round the world. Trumpets sounded together, even as the mornings stars, till the sheer glory of it brought the people's hearts to their lips whence rose the united mighty shout. 'God Save the King. Long live King George. May the King Live for Ever.'"3 Space precludes the inclusion of other journalistic efforts to bring the Coronation emotionalism up to that of a negro revival meeting.

But the show is not over. To the press and radio were added the newsreels, hopefully scattering throughout the Empire sights "to stir the imagination of all Imperialists."4 In spite of the beautifully spoken commentaries describing the "fervent tumult of the multitudes"4 and "the road of national homage"4 the whole affair strongly resembled a gigantic and well-staged queen carnival.

After the Coronation came an Imperial Conference which was summed up by Mr. Chamberlain as having been "an unqualified success." Its success apparently lay in being able to ignore such uncomfortable issues as New Zealand's suggestions on collective security and Canada's opinions on fighting European wars. If that was not the case. Mr. Chamberlain's words were merely another example of the hypocrisy of public utterances.

Though the furthest removed from the scene of the tumult and the shouting. New Zealand desired her own little display of "spontaneous" loyalty and in irony she outdid them all. To raise money for health camps the appeal was made in the name of the late King George V—the man of "happy memory who for a quarter of a century so ably directed the destinies and welded the component parts of the British Commonwealth of Nations."5 We were thus treated to the ennobling spectacle of a public whose social conscience is so weak that unless it was allowed to do some flag-waving and shouting in the name of a defunct monarch, its children can remain undernourished. Even the superior intellects of Victoria College took the bait, and along with mobile units of the Defence Force (therein lay the greatest irony of all. guns to foster health) rode and cheered through the town.

Yet to Australia probably goes the palm for giving us the best display of public emotionalism. Its exponent was Mr. Paterson, Commonwealth Minister of the Interior who in defence of his action towards Mrs. Freer said "he was convinced that the presence of the woman would have wholly and irreparably encompassed the wreckage of an Australian home, which was the most cherished of Australian institutions."6 The facts are too well known to need explanation but it is significant that Mr. Paterson as a successful politician realises along with the British press, the value of oozing sentimental appeal along the lines of Home Sweet Home. Apparently the publicity the Dewar family received as a result of excluding Mrs. Freer was all that was needed to weld them together again.

Thus throughout the year have we had Blah, Blah, and More Blah. Even Nazi Germany would not be ashamed of our efforts. May the present King rule for many years if it will spare us from the saccharine hooey of another Coronation year.

—H.

1 "Evening Post," 14th December;

2 "Dominion";

3 "Evening Post," 13th May;

4 Coronation News Reels;

5 "Accountants' Journal";

6 "Evening Post," 13th November.