I write this in the midst of
‘Diamond Jubilee Weekend’. Whilst
I’m no monarchist, it’s all integral to the story our society tells about
itself and coaxed me into making some tangential local psychogeographic
connections.
The celebrations are all
over the media and Radio 4 Extra, contributed a re-run of the marathon ‘Vivat
Rex’ series. Originally commissioned for the Silver Jube, it’s a monumental official tribute to royal history, the dramatic
aristocracy of the time, (Gielgud, Burton, etc.), and the words of Shakespeare
and his contemporaries. It reeks
of deferential quality and climaxed this weekend with the oft-told account of
the Tudor dynasty. I recalled my
own A-level History studies of the period. The British strand of our course was also mostly a standard
account of the ruling elite. If I’m honest, I enjoyed it immensely.
Artist Unknown, 'Richard III' |
A Dead End Indeed |
Michiel Sittow (?), 'Henry VII', 1505 |
It so happens that many street names hereabouts commemorate the associated Battle of Bosworth and its protagonists. Several plaques also relate the local legends of Richard III passing over Bow Bridge on his way to and from Bosworth Field and subsequent burial nearby after defeat by Henry Tudor. A short walk with the camera was all it took to document this.
A Victorian plaque mounted on a singularly mundane little mid 20th century building marks the legend of
Richard’s burial in the local Greyfriars monastery and subsequent disinterment
for ignominious disposal in the River Soar. A more recent sign credited to the Richard III Society
explaining that story away as a 17th century fabrication also caught my
eye. They remain assiduous in
their rescue of Richard’s reputation from the victor’s propaganda.
Accounts, meanings and texts
from different periods accumulate here on the margins of what is now a major
arterial route through the changing modern city. I took my photos as the traffic roared past oblivious. The procession of multicultural
pedestrians appeared equally unaffected.
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