Bank Holiday Weekend

Above: Bank Holiday Weekend. May Day was last Tuesday, and under the rules that govern the granting of public holidays in the United Kingdom the holiday was postponed until the following Monday (nothing must be allowed to interfere with the efficient working of the economy). I got up late and went out into the garden where the horse chestnut trees, covered in "candles", were spilling drifts of white honey scented blossom upon the lawns so thickly that you felt if you stood still you would soon be smothered (like the rose petals of Heliogabalus).

Above: I went down onto the plain, to the small market town between the hills and the sea. The roads were lined with hawthorn hedges white with may blossom. The town was in a festive mood, celebrating the coming of May (in this twee shop window display you can see teddy bears dancing round a May Pole).

Above: To get to the bank I had to walk across the marketplace which was filled to bursting with the May Fair. Originally a great county event dating back to the late middle ages, the week-long Fair has degenerated into carousels, rides and complex soaring machines that excite their participants with the terror of centrifugal force. Although it was just noon, already the town centre was full of teenage girls shrieking, and teenage boys smelling of Lynx deodorant. I heard the sound of singing, and saw this religious service taking place. Obviously a relic of the medieval origins of the Fair, a priest (standing on the edge of one of the roundabouts) was blessing the proceedings, watched by various civic dignitaries. In front of them was a largish crowd (older people joining in the responses, younger people waiting for the rides to start, eastern European migrants looking completely bemused). The alfresco service launched into All People That On Earth Do Dwell, the organ of the carousel providing the music (in only two or three notes).

Above: When the service finished I walked round the carousel to see what happened next. The religious dignitaries (Vicar, Beadle, Warden and cross-holder) disappeared into the Assembly Rooms. It was as if the building had swallowed them up.

Above: Soon afterwards the civic dignatories (Mayor, mace-holder, head of the Girl Guides etc) followed them. I wondered how far I would get if I tagged on behind - the worst that could happen would be getting thrown out (and that in itself might be an interesting experience). In the end my nerve failed me.

Above: There was the ringing of a bell, and the civic party came out onto a very small balcony. Over loudspeakers a recorded fanfare played, followed by the National Anthem (this photograph shows the dignitaries in the act of singing God Save The Queen). The Mayor proclaimed the May Fair open.

Look closely at the photograph. Here you see a microcosm of the British State. From the right are a tail-coated and white-gloved flunkey, next the Town Clerk, then the Mayor (in fur-lined red robes), the Vicar and the Head of Police. They were very cramped on the balcony, but somehow they all fitted in (if this had been an episode of Dad's Army you would see Captain Mainwaring just edging himself into view, elbowing aside Hodges the Air Raid Warden).

The scene was both absurd and magnificent. Absurd because of the self-importance of the participants in their ruritanian fancy dress. Magnificent because of the physical demonstration of historical continuity and social organisation.

To consider each of them in turn:

The Town Clerk and the Mayor represent continuous local government dating back to the establishment of the borough in the ninth century. English history was shaped by the early cohesive nature of town and county councils which maintained the rule of law and prevented the barons from creating semi-independent fiefdoms (as was the case in France, where the counts often ignored the central government). In England the Royal Writ ran from Westminster out to all the counties (literally the "writ" was a piece of official writing conveyed by runners).

The priest represents the Established Church of England. Established by Act of Parliament as the only true form of the Christian religion (Holy, Catholick and Apostolick - meaning that the apostolic succession has been maintained, implying that the Church of Rome is the one that has lost its way, fallen into error etc). The Establishment of the Church of England means that although other religions are tolerated (there is complete toleration and freedom of expression in the United Kingdom) only Anglicans are officially recognised by the state.

The Head of Police represents the agents of official force (and as Bakunin has pointed out, all official laws, rules and regulations ultimately depend upon the threat of state violence).

The displays of flummery and civic courtesy came to an end, and the offical party withdrew into the upper floor of the Assembly Room (where they no doubt had a banquet).



Above: these garish balloons represented the good-natured irreverence with which the fair-goers treated the condescension of the civic dignitaries.