On the replacing of statues

It all began about the time the steam pudding dishes, each admirably spic and span after the careful attentions of all present were being removed that Moyglass began put forward the thesis that, all in all, we lacked a statue to ‘Mad Jack’ Churchill, which was very remiss of us, on the grounds that the cove had gone to war against the Nazi menace destaining the use of the Thompson sub-machine gun with its rate of fore of some 700 bullets each and every minute for a long bow which, even if the fabled 15 shots in 60 seconds were achieved, would then leave said bowman ammunition-less and was a little dodgy in inclement weather. This was the kind of chap whose wise visage ought to look down on us each and every day, an example of the blind refusal to face up to things was the living embodiment of the club’s existence. A little muttering was heard that noted all the said Lieutenant Colonel had done with said bent piece of wood was to kill a feldwebel but these were quashed on the grounds doing for ncos per se was not bad formed, only hitting your own.

 

It was at this point that somebody brought to the attention of all assembled that, all in all, we didn’t have any space left for statues because, what with one thing and another, we had been enthusiastically memorialising people for over 150 years. The dynamics of a situation like this, when a decent red from one the lesser know Rhineland slopes had been flowing sufficient to move things on but had not yet filled the reservoirs of lethargy, meant that, within ten minutes, an expedition had been gathered, armed with note books and boyish enthusiasm, which set out to catalogue the club’s collection.

 

I suspect our long dead ancestors viewed labelling in the way they viewed flying the Union Flag. Flying the flag, save on special High and Holy days- and then, only on the more vital of government offices, showed a certain lack of confidence in that it seemed that you would need reminding who was top nation and where you came from. The same principal has been applied to statuary. Obviously only a foreigner would not know that this statue was of Mr Parenty, he of the automatic smoking machine – while that was Chief Royal Engineer Sir Bindin Blood. The lack of descriptors – was that the Newton Purcell who had invented a spoon for getting the last soupçon of mustard from the jar or a completely different one? – was complemented by a severe lack of name plates.

 

It was at that point one one of those keen young men who deal with the complicated legal matters pertaining to the club spoke up. Instead of freehold, why not put all monuments on a kind of leasehold. Put up the blasted thing with brass bands and ribbons cut but in a 100 years the whole thing is removed? Several of our more elderly members objected, possibly because this notion put their custom-honoured tenure of a favourite chair in the snug at risk. The amendment was accepted and automatic removal was thrown out as being far too modern but the general theory gave food for thought.

 

At this point one of the younger fellows said why didn’t we do it like they did on the wireless where a group of people you had never heard off where voted in or out of some jungle house or other.  No idea what he meant but the idea caught on. Some sort of competition was needed to see if the statue should remain. This would have the advantage that people would actually become aware of the existence of these monuments because, generally speaking, once they were erected, the public seemed to have felt they had done their duty and forgot about them entirely. Fighting for their existence would thus turn pigeon stained lumps of stone into treasured emblems of a vital local culture.

 

A fight, all against all, would, mature reflection felt,  tend to favour the existing statue and so the number of nominees would be limited to three. Likewise, no two entrants could come from the same field of endeavour at that would split the vote in the same way that some sporting trophies do – which is why you sometimes find that Sporting Hero of the Year is the Under Fives Egg and Spoon champion and not an Association Footballer - which in itself is no bad thing. The franchise would be restricted to rate payers and other people of good standing in the parish in question.  This did lead to a heated debate about some statues getting extra votes by the ruses used by people who claim to live in a shed with the parish bounds or switch faiths to get a child in a particularly favoured local school but generally it was felt this kind of keenness should be rewarded.

 

An amendment was put forward at this point that the passionate arguments over the merits of the candidates should be filmed as this may be seen as instructive and amusing to a future generation, not aware of the achievements Percy Fawcett, not least because it may make them reflect on how soon present passions seem to have lose gravitas and become risible.

 

The meeting broke up with resolve that a park be established in every major city where the removed statues could be placed – just in case their time came again. It was suggested signage would help the causal visitor to know what was what. As this was to be readable by a cyclist it was suggested ‘S/He caused / prevented many deaths’ would cover about 80% of eventualities.

 

The authorities were written to but at present have not replied.

 

A footnote has to be added at this point. The story, that equestrian statutes indicated the fate of the rider – front legs in the air, death in battle, one leg wounded in battle, was it agreed, a splendid one and while not actually true, should be the case. I know reports of ‘men of a certain age’ ‘correcting’ the said by chiselling off surplus hooves or sticking on prosthetic limbs have currency BUT I am sure they will not leave a trail back to the Club. I trust I am understood.