At some point, thoughts will turn to a monument to the late Queen. She does have an £18.9bn railway line named after her, as well as the former Olympic Park in east London, and some significant bridges and other structures, but there’s also a value in a place where people can go to remember her.
Some apprehension is in order about the likely festival of absurd proposals on the subject, but there is hope. A fraught discussion following the death of Princess Diana eventually led to a memorial fountain in Hyde Park that, once some technical hitches were ironed out, turned out to be rather sweet and lovely.
The key is to offer a tangible source of enjoyment rather than a pompous monument: my pitch is that the park-size gardens of Buckingham Palace are opened to the public, reached through gateways in their forbidding wall. To avert the arguments about architectural style, each one could be designed in one of the many practised by British architects.
Last orders?
There should be a special place in hell for people who move into an area and then campaign against a pub or a venue that was there before they arrived, on the grounds that it creates disturbance. Such seems to be the case with the Compton Arms in Islington, north London, a likely inspiration for George Orwell’s 1946 description of his ideal pub, which is being taken to a licence review by four nearby households, a process that could make it financially unviable.
A claim the complainants came to the neighbourhood during lockdown is unverified, but we can guess that they arrived some time later than the pub’s founding in the century before last. If you don’t like it, is the obvious question, why did you choose to live nearby? It can only be hoped that Islington council, which will decide on the review later this month, will protect what is clearly an asset to the borough.
Diverse history
When I’ve visited Strawberry Hill, the fantastical 18th-century neo-Gothic house in Twickenham, I’ve found that the guides there seemed unable to mention the likelihood that its creator, Horace Walpole, was gay, which some believe to be relevant to the way he designed it. They only referred coyly to his “good friends”. The house’s website continues to be silent on the matter. This suggests that the custodians of historic houses need to be more, rather than less, aware of diversity, to be more woke, if you will.
Yet members of the National Trust, which doesn’t own Strawberry Hill but does have more than 500 properties in its care, are being asked to “deplore” its participation in “gay pride events” in a motion before its AGM in November. The trust itself is defending its “culture of understanding and respect” against the objectors. Which, if you are one its more than 5 million members, and can vote against the motion, I respectfully suggest you do.
Defeat bigotry
I don’t want to say that those campaigners are identical to the fascistic, black-clad “ultras” among the fans of Olympique de Marseille football club, who last week tore down a Pride flag during a mini-riot after their defeat by Tottenham Hotspur. On the other hand, the difference between the conduct of the two groups only seems to be one of style. In any case, the ultras’ action shows there is still a struggle to be had with violent bigotry. Again, it’s good to vote.
• This article was amended on 12 September 2022. An earlier version attributed to the Restore Trust pressure group a motion asking National Trust members to “deplore” its participation in “gay pride events”. Whilst Restore Trust has put forward other motions for the AGM it is not involved in this one.
• Rowan Moore is the Observer’s architecture correspondent
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