Surely you’ve all been following the latest to-do having to do with Princess Diana, formerly of the British Royal Family until she had an unfortunate, and lethal, auto accident along the Seine in Paris in late August, 1997? Her former butler, and apparent intimate, Paul Burrell, is in a revelatory mood and has written a book about her, spilling all sorts of intimate details to the point that he has provoked a confrontation with William and Harry, her surviving sons. For all he has revealed, though, there is one terrible secret he has held back, something so sordid, so dastardly, it is said, that it “could destroy the royal family.” Gadzooks!
Great stuff. I’ve got all these half-formed ideas, rattling around my head for some time, to the effect that the British royal family (well, royal families in general, but the British version in recent years has performed this function better than most) in effect constitutes a “reality soap opera” for the United Kingdom it purports to reign over. Is your life dull? Did you never have children, or are they unfortunately all happily married and domesticated, so they never raise any tasty family problems for you and your friends to chew over – e.g. divorce, abuse (of substances and/or of other humans), lustful behavior, and the like? Don’t despair: The Windsors are glad to operate as your proxy disfunctional family. Indeed, in this view, if they’re not having such problems, they’re simply not earning the money the British state pays them. I’ve got to see whether I can find the time and energy to write an article to that effect, to add to my rather aging list over on the left side of this weblog. (Lately the Dutch royal house has had an impressive run along these lines, as well – black-sheep Princess Margarita, and the new royal fiancée who was once a Dutch mafia boss’ moll, and apparently lied about the experience to the premier – yes folks, he does have to know about these things. I really need to write about this stuff for you as well. Sometime.)
But I digress. (Yes, I do that often.) Here’s the point of this weblog entry: Whereas it seems that all British papers are currently much too intimidated, in the legal sense, to publish that last sordid secret, this very-recent blurb from the Manchester Guardian tips us off that the good old Italian press refuses to be so intimidated. I also can read Italian – just not quite well enough to make it easy enough for me to do so on a regular basis, and so add a list of “Italian Newspapers Covered” to that other set of links over on the left side of the page. But that policy does not exclude special circumstances – and, if this happens, you’ll agree that it will qualify. So I’ll keep my own eye out (e.g. about which specific Italian newspaper will spill the beans – you know that it has to publish on-line also, or we’re out of luck), and, if everything turns out, I’ll be glad to let you know the dark, dastardly revelation. Just another reason to make a visit to your local EuroSavant an indispensable part of your daily existence!