vocalman2004 odds & ends

“I really should have studied flute,
Harmonica, or chimes.
A clarinet is nice and light;
A fiddle would be fine.
But I had to take piano,
And my teacher is a brute.
He lives up seven flights of stairs.
(I wish I played the flute.)”

–Shel Silverstein, in Falling Up

The question: What do we want from St George?

Who is St George? Of course he’s England’s patron saint, you wally, representing all those romantic notions of Englishness, a defiant spirit, dragon slaying and a jolly large red cross. But hold a minute, we’re not even sure that he existed. The Catholic encyclopaedia claims there is little doubt of his being a real person, but forgive me if I take their assertions of what is true with a sprinkle of seasoning. He might have been a Palestinian Christian soldier. He might have defied the Roman emperor by standing up for Christ. He might have been beheaded for that act too.

George is most famous for slaying a dragon, also not helping the whole “is he real?” question. He certainly wasn’t English. Wikipedia tells me that on the patron saint stakes, he’s a bit of a whore, being claimed for (deep breath): Aragon, Catalonia, England, Ethiopia, Georgia, Greece, Lithuania, Palestine, Portugal, and Russia. So George also represents the spirits of those regions too? Maybe George is a partial Thomas Painesque saint in that his country is (large chunks of) the world. He is also a Christian, so one hopes that his religion is to do good.

There’s a fine line between being patriotic and jingoism, the former being a good thing. But patriotism still needs justification, rather than blindly following the cosmic happenstance of birthplace. Leave that to sports fans: I bear that cross with simultaneous pride and anguish as I was ejected into the world in time for the all too brief Bobby Robson-era Ipswich.

But I do love these islands. I love how liberal and confident we are as a people. I love pubs, Wodehouse and sarcasm. I love that we created two of the best things in the world, the NHS and cricket. Apart from wishing winter to be just a bit shorter, I even like the weather. And believe it or not, I like the cultural trappings of the Church of England, low key, mostly private religion concerned with charity, singing and, as Eddie Izzard said, cake and death.

But what of St George? What does his legend actually say about any of those things? Although narratives play an important role in cultural membership, national icons are often fatuous and irrelevant. St George is a symbol about whom we know almost nothing and whose own narrative represents almost nothing. St George is a third of the reasons for Henry V’s rousing battle cry, which is now mostly appropriated by adverts for sporting events. Other than that, and our crusade-inspired flag, George has not much to do with being English in the 21st century.

So I suggest a new one: The Doctor, the shape-shifting time-travelling guardian of humanity from Doctor Who. In fact, the Doctor shares many striking similarities with St George. Both are dragon-slaying outsiders, fighting on foreign shores to protect their adopted people. But we know so much more about the Doctor, and thus can proudly and sensibly sing his praises. If we as a people demand collective narrative from legend, we might as well make it a ripping yarn.

The Doctor possesses so many traits of Englishness to which we should all aspire: defiance and good humour in the face of adversity; a sense of style that is at once individual, traditional and contemporary; a special brand of cheeky conservative rebelliousness; a humbling reliance on hot companions. Follow your spirit and upon this charge cry God for Harry, England and the Doctor!