Wistful thoughts on a royal wedding

It's all very delightful, but the marriage of Wills and Kate highlights the sad state of that institution today.

There is something slightly sad about this Royal Wedding, something a bit wistful, that gives the thing a complicated feel. The trimmings are all there: the commemorative mugs and plates, the bunting, the red-white-and-blue hats, the feature articles about what the wedding dress will be like. And there is genuine affection for the young couple – Prince William is a fine young man, who is serving in the Royal Air Force with dedication and skill, and Catherine Middleton is a charming young woman from a cheerful upper-middle-class family who seems capable of taking a royal future in her stride.

So, why the sadness? Well, there are the obvious things: the marriage of Prince William’s parents ended in divorce, as have a number of other royal marriages of recent decades (Prince Andrew, Princess Anne, Princess Margaret). And then there was the death of Princess Diana in a Paris car crash. But these things do not necessarily make this April wedding sad: on the contrary, it is lovely to see young love blossoming in the next generation, and this could bring a message of healing, unity and hope.

No, it all goes deeper. The reason why things aren’t quite as joyful as they ought to be has much more to do with Britain, with marriage, and with families in the country as its stands today, in 2011.

Everyone knows that a royal marriage ought to be a grand celebration of something which is also a great and normal reality in the lives of non-royals. As was famously said in a sermon at the wedding of Prince William’s grandparents, the vows exchanged in Westminster Abbey are exactly the same as between any bridegroom and bride who stand together before the altar at “any little church in the dales”. Which is exactly the point. There aren’t many couples standing at the altars of churches in the dales, and everyone knows it. The number of marriages in Britain is at an all-time low. And of those that do take place, only a minority take place in church. Recent legislation allows weddings to take place in hotels, stately homes, and all manner of attractive venues that can be hired for the purpose. Weddings are large, lavish events. They involve huge numbers of young guests, loud music for several hours, masses of alcohol, masses of food, massive expense.

And there’s more. Large numbers of weddings are the second or third marriages of one or other of the partners, with children of former spouses, and various ex-relations or ex-in-laws, among the guests. And then there’s the question of civil unions – two people of the same sex who get all dressed up and go through a ceremony with flowers and confetti and all the trimmings.

So watching a bride in a white gown go to church on her father’s arm, and make solemn promises to a young man who stands waiting at the altar to pledge his life to hers – well, it’s all very delightful, but it doesn’t resonate as the great, noble, hugely important life-changing reality that marriage truly is. Instead, a wedding is seen as a fun-event, “your big day”, a great excuse for a party. It is disconnected, at a deep level, in most people’s minds, from babies, heritage, the continuation of a family from one generation to the next.

Sexual activity is seen in modern Britain as essentially something enjoyable to which young people should be introduced as a matter of course but which is only marginally connected with marriage and with the arrival of children and the start of a new family. This means that there is a muddle, a disconnect, about biological truth – because actually, factually, sexual union is absolutely connected with babies, just as food is connected with nourishment. Of course it’s connected with much more – with bonding, the meeting of emotional needs, tenderness, warmth, joy, and much more. But to split it from its essential unity is to get into a muddle.

Given this unreality, weddings have a rather odd feeling around them, somehow. The emphasis has to be on the fun, the party, the celebration – and, increasingly, with a sort of frenetic banality – the Dress.

None of this means I won’t be celebrating the royal wedding. I most certainly will. We will be at a family gathering at my in-laws and we’ll gather round the TV and watch every moment. I’ll probably buy a commemorative mug or two. There will be celebrations in the village and it will be fun to be there.

For the Queen’s Silver Jubilee, back in 1977, I was a borough councillor and had to judge the children’s fancy-dress competition (first prize went to a child dressed as a teapot) and give out the prizes, and then distribute commemorative crown coins and slices of a magnificent jubilee cake...

In 1981, for the wedding of the Prince and Princess of Wales, I was in London waving a flag and cheering. My husband was then a cadet at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst, and they were all given a day’s leave. We made up a party and went to London, and had a glorious day.

But three decades on, things have changed. It is a different Britain. No point in pretending otherwise. Our social fabric is fragmenting. It can be mended, and I hope that a beautiful royal wedding can be part of that. Nothing in human life is beyond repair, or beyond hope. And marriage is the stuff of life itself – it speaks about the future, about new beginnings. All the evidence points to the fact that most people, in Britain as elsewhere, want to have a lifelong love and a strong family. A great public celebration of marriage is actually just what this country needs. But, precisely because of that, there’s a sort of brittleness when feature-writers try to talk up the drama of What the Dress Will be Like (white, long, swishy and elegant presumably – but we all know that it isn’t actually the core issue), or when there’s gossip about who will be invited or backbiting about costs.

The Royal Family is a core part of our tradition, our constitutional arrangements, our identity in Britain and the Commonwealth. In a world where constitutional government is by no means the norm, we value that. We can also see the huge and splendid significance that the monarchy brings – speaking of continuity, heritage, traditions, service, and a sense of common identity.

I will be praying – not just wishing and hoping, but praying – that our young Prince and his bride will be truly blessed on their wedding-day, that it is the start of a lifelong and beautiful marriage and a happy family, and that together they will serve our country and Commonwealth in a spirit of self-sacrifice and joy. In saying that, I am saying something rather serious. Perhaps, in the end, that is really quite all right. Part of the tradition about weddings is that people get a bit tearful.

Joanna Bogle writes from London.

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