Josh Getzler
Well, vacation in the Tudorverse is over, and I can only say that this was the first time I’ve ever been grateful for the grey weather of London! Seriously, I hope all of you out there made it through with only minor inconveniences, and that everything is back to normal soon.
When we decided to take this trip, we made the decision to limit the history to two eras—16th Century Tudors (of course) and the two world wars. We basically thought we’d give our kids lessons in Henry VIII and Winston Churchill. (By going to Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London, we necessarily added William the Conquerer, but only a bit; and we talked about the current royal family as well, particularly as you couldn’t turn around without running into a William and Kate coffee mug or plate or cigarette lighter.) We figured that if we started adding in Stuarts and Plantagenets and any Charles except the current Prince of Wales, we’d only confuse them.
That strategy turned out to be very useful for our middle-grade kids, as it allowed us to work around a giant figure and teach about the times he lived in through the filter of what was going on in his life. It’s also why some of the places we went to worked so well—Hampton Court Palace, the Churchill War Rooms, both of which were devoted either entirely or significantly to the particular figure (we simply ignored the William & Mary parts of Hampton Court Palace)—while others were too diffuse to be effective for kids.
Surprisingly, one of the less-exciting places for the kids was Westminster Abbey, which is always a highlight for me. Sure they were excited to see Elizabeth and Mary’s grave. But the fact that they were stepping on, say, Oliver Cromwell or Geoffrey Chaucer or Harold Wilson did nothing for them. They needed, in effect, a linear plot—one where you might have two main perspectives, but where you didn’t want to muddy the waters by getting too far into the heads of the nonessential characters.
One of the oddest highlights—for it was truly a highlight—was the London Eye. At first, we were wondering why it even exists—an enormous ferris wheel on the Thames that dominates the skyline of the South Bank, creating a strange juxtaposition with the majestic houses of Parliament opposite. My wife and I talked about it, about how it felt weird to think of it as an essential tourist attraction/symbol of the city like the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty or the Coliseum. And, of course, it really isn’t THAT comparable—the Tower or the Abbey or Buckingham Palace certainly fit the bill. But it’s the first such place that can even be in the conversation, of a shiny, technology-based, modern version of something old and venerable that has proved very quickly to be fun, user-friendly, and immensely popular. It reminds me of…wait a minute, I’ll think of it.
As this was the history tour rather than the literary visit, I’ll stick to that theme, and give a few impressions of what I heard and saw regarding books next week. Hints: the current situation with Waterstone’s could have a Borders-like effect on the industry in Britain, but for a different reason; and James Patterson is REALLY popular.
