Cinema

Gadfly 255 By Robert Macklin The British subjects of King Charles III are in for a lively time if the reigns of his first and second namesakes are any guide. There’s even a couple of vague parallels with the current occupant of the throne. Charles I was a corker. As the Prince of Wales in succession to his Scottish father James I, he had an early romance with an eighteen-year-old aristocrat, the delicious Spanish infanta Maria Anna. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after eight months they called it quits. Two years later he married princess Henrietta Maria of France. But because of her Catholic background she was denied a coronation and like Camilla became a Queen Consort. However, she produced two bouncing boys who would later succeed to the throne themselves. Meantime, Charles I’s reign, beginning in 1625, went from bad to worse. He truly believed in the divine right of kings and squabbled with Parliament over his tax policies and his refusal to send aid to the Protestants fighting the 30year-war in Europe. The quarrel became so intense that by 1642 the Parliamentarians rose against him in a Civil War that saw his forces defeated three years later. In 1649, he was tried, convicted and executed for high treason. The monarchy was abolished and England itself became a Republic! The Scots, however, had a taste for their royal line and they remained loyal to his son Charles II for another two years until the Republican leader, Oliver Cromwell, cleaned them up at the Battle or Worcester. Whereupon Charles II fled to Europe finding sanctuary in various Catholic boltholes in France and the Spanish Netherlands. Cromwell became the dominant figure in the Republic, leader of the New Model Army (the ‘Ironsides’) and in 1653 was named Lord Protector, backed by the Protestants. When he died in 1658, aged 59, the British love of heredity brought his son Richard the trappings of power as the new Lord Protector. Alas, Dicky Cromwell was not up to the task. A gentle soul, he tried to mediate between the Army and the Parliamentarians and even allowed many disaffected royalists to take their Seats at Westminster. But when word spread that his people were about to prosecute an army officer for some slight against a royalist, Dicky went to water and renounced his position after only nine months in the chair. This was the cue for Charles II’s Scottish supporters under General George Monck to storm south and the republican army melted away. In 1660 the line of Stuart royal succession was restored. However, Charles II was almost as high-handed as his father and by 1681 he had dissolved Parliament and ruled alone. He’d married a Portuguese princess, Catherine of Braganza, but though he had at least twelve illegitimate children from his many mistresses, none would be conceived with Catherine. So when ‘the Merry Monarch’ departed his mortal coil in 1685, his kid brother James II took over. It would be quite some time – and several Houses of succession later – before the current Saxe-Coburg-Gotha family changed their name in 1917 to Windsor. But why, we must wonder, did Elizabeth and Philip choose to call their little sausage Charles? Surely they knew of the republican imbroglio of his namesake predecessors. Of course, he could always follow multiple precedents and change his name to whatever he wished. No doubt he’d appreciate some suggestions from the gang Down Under. The possibilities are endless…Barry? Trevor?… robert@robertmacklin.com

Inga Simpson has written a new book! So don your whites and join us to celebrate with a spot of cricket, some bubbles and fun at @mogendoura_farm Bookings are essential so pop in to the shop or give them a call to reserve your spot. The Willowman is out October 26th, pre-order your copy now.

Reading—A beer with Baz An empty front bar had Bazza sipping in the solitude. Bella, the publican, glanced his way a few mes, bit her bo om lip repeatedly and decided to join him. “As you know, Bazza……. I’m just back from a couple of weeks in Provence, France and…..” Bazza looked up at her contorted face. “And……well…Bazza, I’ve started wri ng…….. and I just don’t know ….you know….ummm….so” Bazza took a decent sip and adjusted his glasses. Her eyes traced the crisp white linen tablecloth to the very edge of the table. It fell in perfect right angled symmetry. Before her, a single well polished dessert spoon, foreshadowed the final course. Her near empty long stemmed glass of Beaujolais, mirrored her enjoyment of the meal. She breathed in slightly and allowed her eyes to take in the whitewash on ancient walls with minimalist art teasing the imagina on. Ghostlike table a endants padded the floor and muffled conversa on was soothing in its lack of meaning. Her life really was a jigsaw she mused. Every piece thought about, carefully selected and neatly fi ed. As a child, the pieces were selected and she readily complied and as an adolescent they were nego ated. In adulthood, she took great pride in selec ng the right piece. Her physical well being, study and career op ons were premeditated and executed with precision. And before her; the next choice. Her companion was wi y, charming, a rac ve and fun. Conversa on moved effortlessly from French to English with an awareness of the world rooted in wide reading and deep thought. She strived to find a nega ve in her balance sheet approach to life. Her hesitancy swirled in the silence. They awaited the table a endant. Her eyes returned to the artwork on the walls and the smallest of the pain ngs captured her. It exuded a light that was mesmerising. The toil of a farmer at work under the bluest of Provence skies, his back forever bent in a meless ritual, but it was the light captured in the pain ng that stunned her, forever a midday sun. She con nued to peer as the restaurant owner hovered. Her eyes darted from the pain ng to the owner. A raised hand silenced her opening mouth. In accented and prac sed English he simply stated ‘Maybe…… It might be……. I do not want to know for certain.’

The response stunned her, and as always her le forefinger moved to the niest of birth marks behind her le earlobe. She gently rubbed it. In a fog of thoughts, the dessert arrived; its symmetry painstakingly precise and complete with a single perfect berry. Her eyes oscillated; to her partner, to the berry, to the pain ng. She rubbed her birthmark and excused herself.

UNDER the new award Shire employees are reduced by 4s per week from Sept 4th . CONGRATULATIONS to Miss Muriel, second eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bown, of Bergalia, who has successfully passed her examina on in St. Margaret’s Hospital, Sydney. Nurse Bown is expected home in a few days on a visit to her parents. The following vital sta s cs for the quarter ending 30th September supplied by our C.P.S. :- Births : 10 males, 15 females; total 25. Deaths : 5 males, 7 females; total 12. OUR obliging young telegraph messenger, Master Phil, third son of Mr. and Mrs. Dace Crapp, of Yarragee, has received no ce of his promo on to Wagga. Phil expects to leave for his new appointment next week. A BABY, 7 ½ months old, of Mrs. Alf Richards, of Eurobodalla, was admi ed to the Moruya hospital at 4 p.m. on Sunday, but died at 6 p.m., the croup, from which it was suffering, being too far advanced for the child’s life to be saved. Narooma residents may be justly proud of their one- me school-mate Miss Wilma Berkeley, daughter of Mr. W. Easdown, and whose voice has cap vated Dame Nellie Melba. … “The coming diva” graciously consented to give the Moruya people an opportunity of hearing her lovely voice prior to her departure for London. MONTAGUE ISLAND [By N.R.]… At present there are three men on the island, Mr. R. Pyburne (ac ng in charge), Mr. C. Tennant (relieving), and Mr. S. Kells (relieving). Mr. Williams, the man in charge, is at present away on sick leave. They have a lonely and apparently monotonous life. Once in two weeks-providing the weather is favourable-the steamer pulls up and a boat is taken over to receive provisions and mail. This appears to be the only break in their dreary loneliness. Seagulls are there in their thousands, the fried eggs make a delicious meal. Rabbits, penguins, goats (200) and a few fowls and one horse make up the rest of living things on the island. The island is made up of two huge round knobs, one of granite and the other of ironstone. There is a dis nct division between the two, in fact, in rough easterly weather two islands are formed. The lighthouse has a revolving op c light with four bull’s eyes and can be seen on a clear night from 35 to 40 miles away. At the present me a hundred or more seals are ma ng close to the island and during the recent visit of the writer, a huge whale was spor ng himself unpleasantly close to the launch we were in. … It is indeed a pleasure to inspect such a place.