Perhaps Harry Windsor can be forgiven for being a bit clueless. His life has been traumatic — he was just 12 when his mother died — sheltered and stifling. But it has also been comfortable, privileged and surrounded by an unimaginable degree of unearned wealth and importance. It is understandable, then, that he wanted to strike out on his own with Meghan Markle in America. With Spare, his memoir, coming on the heels of Harry & Meghan on Netflix, it’s clear that his separation from the world’s most famous joint family is incomplete. He is still “Prince” Harry.
“Spare” refers to the old adage — “an heir and a spare” — with the latter referring to the second son in a noble or royal family. From the fictional Galahad Threepwood from P G Wodehouse to Prince Philippe of France (in the 17th century), the younger sons of famous families have managed to make their mark. In fact, Harry’s going into the military is of a piece with a long tradition where royals who did not stand to inherit have been generals. Another common career choice has been “taking the cloth” and joining the clergy. Harry, after making a song-and-dance about his family’s lack of “wokeness” — their entire symbolic purpose is to preserve an ossified and dated class structure – still seems bound and defined by them. And he still needs them.
In Spare, Harry has laid bare, once more, the conflicts within the British royal family with less entertainment value than a Kardashian. The family back home, though, is still very British and has maintained a studied silence. The one-sided attacks, and more importantly, the complete blindness to his privilege, are making Harry look a touch less sympathetic with every media blitz. Loneliness, the loss of a parent, substance abuse, depression — these issues can strike anyone. But it takes a royal reality star to monetise them.