At last, I've seen something that challenges my republicanism and makes me respect our monarchy. Oh sure, it's archaic and undemocratic, but at least it provides a bit of eccentricity, if not full-on madness, in public life.
Without a royal touch, this year's crop of official greetings cards from those who rule over us or aspire to would be dry fare for the professional interpreter. Pop psychologists have done their best – one opined that Gordon Brown's Christmas image of the door of No 10 hanging from a holly bush (hanging from a thread!) reveals a flawed personality in its lack of human details. Yet far from conjuring up a prime minister sitting alone staring at bizarre decorations, this paints the picture of a busy man signing cards commissioned by an underling. Never mind – perhaps he'll misspell "merry" and someone will take umbrage.
What strikes you is their professionalism – they were put together by PRs, the designs carefully avoid saying too much of anything (no Christ-heavy scenes here). Unless, of course, Nick Clegg drew his childish Christmas card himself. As his own work it would be interesting. As for the Tories, their frost-gripped Westminster scene is so whited out it suggests a political machine with no personality.
Thank God for royalty. Roll on Prince Charles in his carriage, dressed for Ascot. That's right, Ascot – something as inseparable from Christmas as mince pies and No 10 tree ornaments. The prince has put a picture of himself and the Duchess of Cornwall at the races on his Christmas card. As you can see, it's June. She looks happy; he looks confused. There's enough here to keep a whole conference of psychologists busy through Christmas. This is why more plays get written about George III than Pitt the Younger.
