Sempiternam

Apologies for not writing any posts recently. Sometimes it is difficult to summon up the enthusiasm, or I am tempted to give up and do something more exciting and rewarding instead. But then I can't think what else that might be.

And there is something else. As you may have noticed, if you have read some or all of the previous four hundred posts, I am not very good at writing anything particularly serious. I am the first to admit that the blog is not exactly rip-roaringly hilarious. But neither does it dwell on the sad or tragic or heart-breaking events of life. It is a problem I have always had: I am not one who will ever be able to write a misery memoir, as these things are called nowadays, or to unload the dark corners of my soul on to the unwitting general public. Instead, I try to write things which are moderately cheerful and uplifting. Whether this is to keep my readers entertained or to avoid my own unresolved internal conflicts, I don't know.

And that is the problem. Since the last post there has been a succession of events which have been sad and tragic and heart-breaking. From Nice on 14 July through to Munich last Friday and Rouen today, the world seems to be getting darker by the day.

I am listening, while I write this, to Fauré's Requiem, performed recently at the Proms. We seem to be in need of requiems.

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem sempiternam.

400

– Don't you sometimes wish there was less news?
– I suppose there has been rather a lot recently. They say a week is a long time in politics. The last three weeks seem like a lifetime, and have certainly been turbulent. Perhaps things will calm down now.
– There seems to be a new Prime Minister.
– Yes. These things happen. Prime Ministers come and go. Usually there's a bit more warning.
– It's all been so sudden. With surprise resignations and half-hearted leadership contests and stabbings in the back.
– There's never a dull moment in politics.
– I had always thought politics was nothing but dull moments.
– Maybe. But every now and again momentous events occur which throw all our lives into turmoil.
– Is this one of them?
– Probably.
 

Europe

Today is the 100th anniversary of the first day of the battle of the Somme. A sombre moment in our history. The descent of Europe into hell.

This time last week we were still coming to terms with the result of the EU referendum. For those of us voting for Remain, it was a difficult pill to swallow. Campaigns run on perpetuating fear and lies, dividing the country bitterly, perhaps irreparably. The risk of self-inflicted economic turmoil. The prospect of years of argument and negotiation to end up in a position worse than where we started from.

The events of the last week haven't helped to reassure us: David Cameron stepping down to leave to his successor the nightmare of sorting out the UK's role in the world; a leadership contest descending into farce as the contenders gleefully stab each other in the back; the opposition falling into disarray; nobody coming out with any realistic plans of what to do next.

Perhaps not quite the darkest hour in this country's history, but hardly one to be proud of.