ladyofastolat | Ten years. TEN YEARS!

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Ten years. TEN YEARS!

The media always seems to celebrate anniversaries of events early. By the time the actual anniversary comes round, it all seems like old news. I wonder why this is. Have they all written their articles and TV programmes early, and get impatient sitting on them? Or do they want to get their article/programme out before the rivals? Probably the latter. It's the same in film marketing. I remember when Star Wars episode 1 came out in July 1999, in Britain. All the TV marketing, tie-in novels, free action figures in cereal boxes etc. had all happened in the lead up to May, when the film came out in America. Star Wars was distinctly old news when the film actually opened here. It was all quite odd. And why do novelisations of a film come out a good month or two before the film opens? Do these people want everyone to get spoilered?

Anyway… Everywhere I look at the moment seems to be doing their Princess Diana retrospectives, even though we're some two months (?) short of the anniversary. It's made me do some remembering of one of the most fascinating and bizarre weeks I can remember.

I remember getting up on the Sunday morning, sitting down at my computer, and putting on the radio. There they were going on in tragic voices about this dark and terrible day for the nation. My blood ran cold, to use the cliché. It's an interesting insight into life in 1997, because rather than going straight to the BBC website, as I would do now, I phoned my Mum. "What's happened?" I asked, shaking, half expecting to be told that there had been a nuclear strike on London, or something. "Oh. Is that all?" I thought, when she told me. It was sad, of course, since any death was sad, but not the sort of thing likely to have major repercussions for the safety of the world.

Later that day, we were dancing at a village fete. I didn't see any sign of misery or soul-destroying grief there. The fete went on. I expect people talked about the news a bit, but there were no tears.

Then something strange started to happen. The TV started to show people putting flowers on war memorials and the like. Suddenly people started doing this. The TV started showing people signing books of condolence. Suddenly people started wanting to do this. We had the Isle of Wight's book of condolence in our library, and all these tear-stained people started filing in – very few of them library users – to sign the book. "To Diana and her Dodo – angles together in heaven," read one entry. Would anyone had felt the urge to sign a book of condolence had they not seen other people doing so on TV?

At this time, Pellinor was away every week on a course in London, only coming home at weekends. I remember coming home from work and watching the news for hours, fascinated by what was happening in the country, then talking to him on the phone about the weirdness that was engulfing us. I found it mesmerising. What on earth was happening to the country I thought I knew? All this weeping and wailing in public! What on earth was the purpose of a Book of Condolence? Where did it get sent after it was full, and what happened to it afterwards? How many millions were being spent on flowers that would sit and rot on the steps of a war memorial?

I remember getting emails from total strangers – people who had read my fanfic, and knew I was British. They were passing on their condolences for my great loss. I had no idea how to reply.

I remember my Mum telling me that she had been talking to a woman she knew, and happened to mention to her that she didn't really understand what the fuss was about. The woman reacted as if she had said that she liked eating babies for dinner, and wouldn't talk to her for weeks. My Mum suddenly felt as if something had changed in the world. It was almost like a new witch hunt. Were friends falling out over this? People who thought the whole thing was a hysterical fuss about very little at all became afraid to speak out, because saying this was like blasphemy against a very real god.

Then we got time off work for the funeral. I have to admit that I did watch it on TV, since it felt like cultural history in the making.

Apart from the hordes coming into the library to sign the book, I don't think I actually knew anyone who fell apart with grief. In some cases, people only dared admit this several months later. It became a dirty secret, only to be admitted to when you were very sure of your company. Was anyone here deeply moved by it, or did everything think it was all rather silly? Were there demographic differences between people who were grief-stricken, and people who weren't?

It was just such a fascinating time. And then it ended. Did something change for ever that week, or was it a strange anomaly, after which everything went back to normal?

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I just had to comment and say first off, love the title of this post. *g*

And also, things were crazy here, too. Americans seem to love the royals more than is healthy, I think. We have a strange fascination with them. So Diana's death hit us very hard, too. I don't personally know anyone who was overly affected by it, but it was very surreal over here as well.

It is weird - every time I go to the States, my grandmother asks me in concerned tones about how the Royal Family are doing. And I have to shrug and admit she probably knows better than I do, because I pay no attention at all to them.

Mind you, this time I could say I chatted with Princess Michael of Kent's bodyguard at work, but then I'd have to admit I didn't notice the Princess and don't know who she is or why she's called Michael.

And all the royal places in Britain - Buckingham Palace etc. - always seem to be totally teeming with American tourists. I also find it amusing that the American media always seems to refer to recently knighted people (actors etc.) as Sir X all the time, while the British media often don't. Britain's supposed to be the old-fashioned country that still has royalty and hereditary nobility, yet America seems to treat these things with far more reverence.

Well, given the quasi-religious mystique of the US presidency and the apparent resurgence of the hereditary principle...

Can't let the opportunity for a movie quote pass by... Hey, I'll be calling for spades soon. Or bin bags. ;-)

An American cousin of Creatrix's, and her frined (both 20-ish) visited a few years ago, and their main interest was the Royal family, how much they were in the news &c.

We had friends to stay. We got up in the morning and heard the news on the radio.

"Oh no! she'll become a saint now!" said one of the friends prophetically.

Later that day I was told the first sick joke about Diana's death by a neighbour (and former flat mate).

We went roleplaying in a flat where the telly tended to be on alot and debated which was more appropriate showing the programs and having a picture of Diana instead of ads (as was being done) or showing the ads and having a picture of Diana during the programs - or possibly just showing a picture of Diana.

That was about it. The Edinburgh University/Student population was pretty unmoved by the whole thing (unless scoffing at the English/Royalty/Tony Blair/TV companies). Bill's brother was living in Colorado at the time and was quite surprised to have several friends inquire whether he was alright.

Interesting to hear that the reaction was different in Scotland - though not, perhaps, that surprising. I'm not at all surprised to hear that students were mostly unconcerned. The people who came in to sign our book of condolence were mostly - though not entirely - older people.

I worked for the AA at the time. I arrived for work at six am and the security guard told me.

You are right about things getting very strange. We had quite a few sniffly callers, and at least one person who lost his car keys in the mountian of flowers.

I do remember getting annoyed at the time with the people ranting about "Where is the Queen?" erm- with her bereaved grandsons???

I get the feeling that afterwards a lot of people felt rather embarassed about having gone so OTT. So when the Queen Mother dies, the hysteria which I had previously been expecting did not appear.

Yes, it was sad that she died so young. Was it any more sad than when my neighbour died in her sleep and was found by her eight year old twins in the morning? Yes, it was right for people to have felt sad, but the wave of hysterical grief was very very strange.

I do remember getting annoyed at the time with the people ranting about "Where is the Queen?"

Oh yes! She was at Balmoral wasn't she? and there were calls for her to "return" and be "with her people". The Scots had a different perspective on this too.

So with you about the "er -- with her bereaved grandsons???". I thought it was really outrageous for people with no personal connection whatsoever to tell a bereaved family how they ought to be behaving. I wanted to give them all a big slap and shout in their faces, "Hello? This isn't about YOU!". - Neuromancer

I never understood the immence outpouring of grief. She's only a woman for goodness sake! I never actually had an awful lot of time for Diana. I thought she was a bit of a hanger-on; of her and Charles, I preferred Charles and I still do.

I found the general public's anger at the Queen (and the rest of the Royal Family) at not going all public (as depicted in the film The Queen) as rather in bad taste. I do not have the right to say how somebody else grieves, so Joe Bloggs in the street does not have the right to say how the Queen should grieve. I got far more irritated over this than I grieved over Diana's death.

I am very sorry that she died; in the same way that I am sorry about anybody who died in similar circumstances or at a similar age. I also feel that the histeria over conspiricy theories is completely stupid. Things don't work like that: get a life!

What really hacked me off was the way the public were demanding to have the queen leave two young children having to deal with the sudden death of their mother and shae in their group hysteria.

Who needed her more- the weeping wailing crowds, or her grandchildren?

I wish she had issued a statement that she was sorry, but the children needed her there. Then only come down for the funeral.

Yeah, that's a good point. She could have issued a very dignified statement along the lines of "I'm terribly sorry not to be able to come and blow all your noses personally, but I feel that my grandchildren who have just lost their mother have a greater claim on my time just at present; I do hope you understand" (only less sarky, obviously) and that might have helped a few people regain some sense of perspective and feel a bit ashamed of themselves. In fact she was too dignified even to do that (and why should she have to, after all?) and so the tabloids ranted on. God, I do despise them.

Neuromancer

I was very annoyed at the way 'the public' (the media) were outraged that the Queen etc had 'forced' the young princes out to church the morning of their mother's death. Quite apart from the fact that it emerged later the boys had been asked what they wanted and chosen to go, it seems clear that (a) following the usual comforting routine can be helpful when trying to come to terms with life-altering events (and of course, church on Sunday *was* part of the Balmoral routine) and (b) church is a not inappropriate place to go when grieving. Just because Joe Public or Mr Telegraph Writer is not a churchgoer doesn't mean everyone else has to share his antipathy for the place.

Most of us have events we can remember with crystal clarity, often large, shared events.

Unfortunately, most of these are for sad events.

I remember walking into my family dining room when I heard about Jim Jones & Jonestown.

I remember standing in the pizza parlour I managed, stunned and unbelieving, when I heard John Lennon was shot.

I remember working on repairing a book in my college library when I was told about the Challenger explosion.

I remember turning on my computer in my apartment and learning about 9/11.

But I also remember being a very sick 10 year old boy and demanding that my parents take me outside so I could look at the moon ... a moon where there was, for the very first time, an actual man walking on the face of it.

Shared experiences.

For my own part, Diana's death did not affect me greatly. I remember it in a very vague way, but she had never been terribly important to me (unlike my ex, an Over The Top Royalty Watcher as only an American can truly be). Still, I remember in the main the circumstances. Ten years, though, eh? Been longer than I remember.

That's true. There are several news events that I clearly remember hearing about for the first time, and all of them, I think, are disasters and deaths. I suppose it's because these are the things that come suddenly and out of the blue, and stop you in your tracks in the middle of your normal life.

I got the news at the biggest Highland Games in the world...in California, where I live.

Of course I was saddened. She died horribly and far too young, leaving two young children behind. That was tragic. I even ordered a memorial lace bobbin...and then was a bit sorry I couldn't afford the Mother Theresa one that came out a week later, too.

And I watched the funeral on television. I felt it was sort of full circle, since I'd gotten up in the wee hours to watch her wedding as well.

But the wailing and gnashing of teeth? No, I didn't get that.

Then again, I remember well when Elvis Presley died. I heard it announced on the radio in the family car while we were on vacation. In fact, my father was driving me, my brothers, and our cousins to the beach for a swim. It felt odd simply because Elvis had Always Been There. It wasn't anything at all personal. I'd never liked his music much and what very little I knew of him as a human being really hadn't endeared him to me.

But for the next few weeks, every time you turned on the news, there was more about the parades of desolated fans, the tributes of teddy bears, toy hound dogs, and blue suede shoes being left either at Graceland or impromptu sites around the country. A friend of my mother's asked her in hushed tones 'Helen, how are the children taking it?' Most of the country went nuts while I sat there thinking, well it isn't a GOOD thing, but is it really worth all this hoopla?

Do I have any answers? No. But I get where you're coming from.

I felt very sorry that Mother Teresa's death got totally swamped by all the Diana hysteria. It was mentioned almost as an afterthought on the news. I know she was old, so it didn't have the shocking suddeness of Diana's death, or the sense of tragedy, but, still...

I was in America when Frank Sinatra died, and I saw TV crews stopping people in the street and asking them how they felt. I thought that was very strange. I don't like it when people have been famous, but then fall out of the limelight for some years, and then suddenly the news breaks that they've died. Suddenly they get famous again, and everyone starts paying tributes to them, and their music/films are suddenly everywhere again. It seems quite hypocritical. While they're alive, but ageing, people can forget about them, but suddenly they revere them when they're dead.

I'm not going to say what I was doing when I first heard the news on the radio. Let's just say I was having a lie-in, and my boyfriend was over ;). He already knew, because he had been watching tv about 2-3am when the story first broke. "You could have mentioned it!" said I, slightly annoyed to be the last person in the country to hear. "Oh, yeah, I forgot," said he.

It's always a slight shock to find that the very rich, however cocooned they are in the middle of all their money, are still vulnerable to the same things as the rest of us. That's what I remember, not really understanding how someone so surrounded by bodyguards etc could die in a common car crash.

I was running late in the launderette the day of the funeral, and had to race back for it. I've never seen the roads so clear! I remember the shots of Charles and the boys walking behind the hearse, and Charles kept trying to put his hands in his pockets, but he didn't have any pockets to put them in! I felt very sorry for him, because it is such a difficult situation to be in as the ex-partner after a poisonous divorce, but he was, quite properly, there for his sons in his capacity as their father rather than in his own capacity as [ex]husband.

I loved the funeral itself! (I love a good Royal funeral. I have the Queen Mother's on tape somewhere still!) Wonderful music - except that bloody awful Elton John rubbish, beautiful flowers, that wonderful anti-Royal speech by Earl Spencer which got cut out in all the later versions.... I was sorry for the boys, but as a state occassion it was fantastic.

Di did good work -remember how no-one wanted to be in the same room as AIDS sufferers until she did? and which of us had ever considered what happens to a field of landmines once the war is over, until she brought it to our attention? She was also a nasty, vindictive, manipulative ex-wife, but - hey - so what? She was never on a pedestal for me, so she never fell off it. I didn't sign any books of condolence and I didn't feel any sadness, except as for anyone who dies. But most people don't get such a grand and priveleged life when they are alive, nor a huge great do when they croak, so mostly I just thought it was all a great big stupid drama.

It's always a slight shock to find that the very rich, however cocooned they are in the middle of all their money, are still vulnerable to the same things as the rest of us.

I think this is a big part of it. People had built Diana into a fairy-tale fantasy figure that bore little resemblance to any real person. Fantasy figures don't die. They're not really real, after all. They're always there, on their pedestal, enduring. So it was an awful shock to find that she suddenly wasn't there any more. It's a strange thing, celebrity. Even as the tabloids and magazines delve into every aspect of a celebrity's life, there's always seems to be an element of them being a fantasy wish-fulfilment figure.

Have you seen The Queen? It gets that mood of strangeness very well. Being in London was quite bizarre. But Diana lived her life in the shaddow of the tabloids, and the response was very much the sort that tabloid celebrities have been attracting ever since Rudolph Valentino. Plus (as the film makes clear) Blair had just come to power and his first thought was (as ever) 'how will this play in the press?'

I must watch The Queen. I keep meaning to. After I posted this earlier, I remembered that the departure of Blair was probably a far more appropriate topic for a post entitled "ten years ago." I'd forgotten just how new Blair was in post when all this happened. 1997 was an interesting year for this country, to be sure. I also clearly remember what I was doing when I heard that Blair had won, and remember watching his victory parade on TV, and sensing the air of hope and optimism that was buzzing around the country. That was another big TV-fuelled public emotion thing.

I remember going into London for a meeting on the day of The Funeral. I wore a black tie, not because I was even vaguely interested in marking the event, but because Other People Seemed To Care. I still can't quite understand why I did that, so chalk me up as someone caught up in the hysteria, albeit peripherally.

I think there was a lot of anti-Royalist feeling around (and there still is) and I remember cheering when Diana's brother went all sarky. Diana didn't have a brain in her head, but she did a lot of personal charity work - a lot more unselfishly than Mother Theresa, incidentally - and she wasn't the one who married an 18 year old virgin to get an heir, figuring that she was too naive to notice that her partner was having it off all the time with someone else. (Diana, I feel, had ever right to be vindictive about the Royals, in the circumstances.)

It was such jolly good fun to see her embarrassing the Royals, too... particularly the appalling Charles. She made more people over here Republicans, and that has to be a good thing.

Being a member of the Diana Cult (which I'm not) seems to me to be more to do with being into the cult of celebrity in general (which I'm not) than being a royalist (which I am) or a patriot (which I am) or thinking that there are lots of advantages to constitutional monarchy in a democracy (which I do).

To be fair, she did contribute a lot to society in terms of:
a) sales of porcelain figurines
b) Elton John's career
Arguably, there are enough porcelain figurines and collectors' edition plates in the world anyway, and I've never been a huge fan of Mr Dwight.

My first thought was, "Was it an accident, or something else?" (I quickly firmed up on the "accident" theory, BTW).

That was the day we moved from Rugby to Rochester. Some little way ahead of us on the M1, a lorry had shed its load of rubbish (literally) onto the road, and we had to drive through it.

I found it ironic that they called Princess Diana "the Queen of Hearts" because in Alice in Wonderland, the Queen of Hearts is a vicious tyrant. Her signature line is "Off with his head!" I wonder how many other people picked up on that.

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Ten years. TEN YEARS!

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...late response again

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The Queen of Hearts?