The Queen, confusion and collective cultures of grief and death
Reflections on cultural expressions of grief over the last month
Hello!
Welcome to the first ‘official’ edition of Living Grief: Living Change. Having setup this newsletter up, with gusto, over the summer - I’ve been feeling nervous about creating this first post. Especially knowing in that time between set up and now - The Queen died and we’ve arguably (in the UK at least) have lived through one of the most high profile, highly covered deaths of our lifetimes.
There were points during the official 10 days of mourning after The Queen’s death, where you seemingly couldn’t move for collective expressions of grief or conversations about what this meant. Media channels were absolutely saturated for content talking about every aspect of dying, death and grief. From what the Queen’s Death taught us about the process of dying, the decades of of planning for the funeral and security operation associated with it, what it means for a family to be grieving in public, speaking openly about what grief feels like, the signifiers of collective grief from flowers to The Queue, to 7.5million people in 48hours mesmerised and baffled by the lying in state and the power of centuries old ritual and ceremony (while watching it, my 3 year old son, for the first time claimed “this is so boring”, failing to recognise the historical significance).
And beyond the death of a human, there is the symbolism of this moment. Her death as an end of an era. The memories, for many, of our parents or grandparents who were of the same generation, as well as those whose parents and grandparents suffered and were harmed in the time of The Queen’s reign. The re-opening up of questions about empire and colonialism, and what this means for our collective identity and the future of the monarchy, of the UK and the Commonwealth that are still to unfold.
“Now, our national myths are in flux as we contest how Elizabeth and her reign will be remembered – and what should happen next as one era ends and another begins.” Collective grief at the end of an age - Alex Evans and Ivor Williams
But it was alot - and created a seemingly noisy and confused media environment.
Friends spoke being confused and overloaded, not really sure what to think or feel. I found it simultaneously fascinating and overwhelming (and this is as someone interested in mainstream coverage and expressions of death and grief). If a key element of being with grief is about having time to process and reflect and that is hard to do in our culture today.
But these last months have also been a time where there has been grief and loss at a much bigger scale than one high profile person. From the devastating floods in Pakistan, crops and livelihoods destroyed and people being forced to move from their homes and land. The everyday grief that comes from the those living in the Ukraine and the uprising in Iran following the death of Mahsa Amini (the cutting of hair having deep historical roots as a form of both protest and mourning.) The common theme being that each of these countries and communities are where continual, collective grief forms the daily backdrop for millions of people. All of this points to, as the UK Commission on Bereavement final report, that launched earlier this week said, we need to stop making grief a taboo.
And find ways to individually, collectively and structurally we need to get better at acknowledging, understanding, working and designing for grief and the inevitability of death in our culture and lives.
Without wanting to undermine the scale and reality of these big world happenings and needs. I want leave you with a very surprising and beautiful. Have you ever wondered how sheep farmers express their love and grief, well here you go? A beautiful tribute from farmer Ben Jackson to his Aunty Debby, whose funeral he couldn’t go to sue to lockdown restrictions in 2021
More soon,
Louise x