Opinion / Alexis Self
Injured party
People call death the great leveller but in the UK there’s another thing that cuts through class and creed: partying. Many societies flirt with temperance or at least consider public drunkenness as evidence of immorality – but not here. One need only look at the reverence with which William Hogarth’s depictions of Georgian debauchery are held today to understand that the nation’s view of inebriation contains more than a little affection.
Indeed, when choosing a prime minister, the unspoken (well, not always) question in many voters’ minds is, “Which one would I most like to share a pint with?” This is undoubtedly a contributing factor in Boris Johnson’s (pictured) popularity; he at least seems like he knows how to have a good time. And that’s how the British like to see themselves too.
The Christmas period is known here as “party season”. Though religious observance is mostly a thing of the past, every Brit goes to a string of Christmas parties, whether at work, with neighbours, friends, family or just down the pub. Except for last year. Probably for the first time in British history (they even partied in the London Underground during the Blitz) there was no rocking around the Christmas tree. Well, for most of us.
For even as he was encouraging the nation to stay at home, the prime minister was turning a blind eye to festivities (at which Johnson still maintains that no rules were broken) that took place in the very building in which he lives. Of course, the nation’s righteous indignation is mostly due to the hypocrisy of all this – particularly after their opportunity to see loved ones, especially those who are old, was denied. But I think a punchbowl-sized portion of their fury is due to being denied their right to party. As if to save himself the headache, this year the prime minister is advising us to work from home – but to still attend parties. He’ll be hoping that the sounds of revelry drown out the opprobrium.