The first thing I saw on the internet this afternoon was the news of the death of the Queen. My mother always thought of her as her queen; she had watched her coronation on the neighbors' television in Arizona. I was shown once a small collection of memorabilia that had been sent by friends of my grandparents in England—paper cutouts, a programme. And now that is a historical era, even though it is living memory. Not yet out of an Etruscan seclum, counting time by people. I lost most of the rest of the day to pain. The last Charles to be King of England etc. was a great friend of the Taaffes, so I am expecting the phone call any day now, thank you.
And now Elizabeth and Dee go along the same great highway, and the light of the air about them seemed somewhat dark, like evening or twilight, and as they walked the phoenix spoke and cried with a loud voice: COME AWAY.
—Derek Jarman, Jubilee (1977)
And now Elizabeth and Dee go along the same great highway, and the light of the air about them seemed somewhat dark, like evening or twilight, and as they walked the phoenix spoke and cried with a loud voice: COME AWAY.
—Derek Jarman, Jubilee (1977)
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