Dennis Roddy: Dead monarch a hit in London

LONDON — Life might be for the living, but death is enjoying a renaissance here. People are lining up for miles to stare at the queen’s coffin and be inspired.

The late queen’s utterances, calculatedly unremarkable in life, are imbued by commentators with a Lincolnesque aura.

This is dangerous. The queen was a figurehead, for reasons her ancestor Charles I could explain, were his figure reunited with his head. Now, lying in state in Buckingham Palace, she is summoned as an example, a life lesson, a secular saint who also happened to be the head of a state-run church.

This strange communion could take us to unexpected places.

Mackenzie King, while prime minister of Canada, used to repair to a closet to converse with his dead predecessor on matters of policy. He literally asked a dead prime minister for advice during wartime. Thank God the voices he heard weren’t speaking German.

Let the dead alone, I say. You’ll have plenty of time with them later.

For the most part, the British public gets the point. Yet their leaders, elected and not, have been unable to contain themselves. In Parliament and on television, they stumble recklessly across the landscape of language and emotion.

Former Prime Minister Theresa May told Commons a story about dropping a piece of cheese in the queen’s presence. Apparently, the queen took it well. This silly story has been added to the catalogue of proofs that the queen was a mensch. Who’d have guessed.

The most accomplished mourners have been the BBC. The Irish used to have women from the village stop by at wakes to wail loudly for the deceased. This spared the family exhaustion, but in modern time people carry their own emotions competently enough to get by without proxies.

The monarch now lies in state at Buckingham Palace and the British media mourn loudly at every turn. Their loss is profound: Their most reliable novelty story is no more.

Last night, a BBC biography mentioned that in the early days of her reign, Her Majesty used to tuck in Charles and Anne while wearing her crown. Commentators explained she did it to grow accustomed to the weight of the headpiece. I used to put a pair of lavishly colored boxer trunks on my head and make a gobbling sound to amuse my wee ones at bedtimes. A crown would have been too silly.

The ordinary folk with whom I spoke regarded the queen’s passing as the loss of a landmark, albeit one known for dressing in coats and hats the color of matchbox cars. Think back on how you felt when Joseph Horne closed.

The state events are posing a challenge to both decorum and liberty. In Edinburgh, two people were hauled away by the police after booing the official announcement that Prince Charles was now King Charles. One demanded a non-monarchical republic.

Outside Westminster, a man was arrested for holding up a blank sign. Now, we have reached the point that saying nothing is dangerous to public order. The queen dared not say anything political in life. Her surviving subjects must do likewise, but quietly, please.

Dennis Roddy is a retired journalist and Pittsburgh-based communications consultant.