Ruminations

Blog dedicated primarily to randomly selected news items; comments reflecting personal perceptions

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Yours, Sincerely

Could anyone doubt the shared sorrow felt at the loss of a human life? It is a feeling courtesy in Britain for personal letters of condolence to be sent to the grieving families of slain military personnel, from the Prime Minister of the day, as well as from the Royal Family, from the Defence Secretary and from the regiment of the fallen soldier. Gordon Brown, Britain's current prime minister, laboriously hand-writes these heartfelt letters of condolence.

The prime minister of any country is by the very nature of his executive position, a very busy individual, with the concerns of the nation uppermost in mind at all times, prepared to act in haste or at leisure, depending on the nature of the matters that come before him. It can be assumed in these parlous times of great economic stress, of the universal panic related to what WHO has termed a pandemic, and the unpopular commitment of the country to a NATO-led war in a far-off country, that there is much on Gordon Brown's mind.

Mr. Brown, it is fairly well known, has the use of one eye only, the other having been impacted in his young years playing rugby, by a detached retina. And there have been media reports that his general health has also of late been deleteriously affected, with some suggesting that his eyesight is beginning to fail entirely. Now a public, critical of an unpopular prime minister has additional fodder for discontent with his performance.

The mother of a soldier killed in Afghanistan has been offended and dismayed and horribly annoyed that her Prime Minister - writing to her personally of his own dismay at her loss - sent her a missive that she insists has insulted the memory of her son. Her son's family name, and by extension hers, was misspelled in the letter, as were a number of other common words. He even failed to dot an 'i', to add insult to grave injury.

Presumably, Mr. Brown's troubling eyesight aided in his dreadful malfeasance. When he was alerted, through Jacqui Jane's aggrieved reporting to the British press about her disgust with the manner in which the letter of condolence was written, Mr. Brown immediately contacted Ms. Janes to offer his sincere apology. A spokesperson for the Prime Minister added that he spends "a great deal of time" with these letters, and would, obviously never wish to cause such a hurt.

"To all other families whom I have written to, I can only apologize if my handwriting is difficult to read," Prime Minister Brown said. "I have at all times acted in good faith seeking to do the right thing." And how could anyone doubt that? Would not most people accept the kindly thought behind the message, and voluntarily overlook spelling lapses? A hand-written letter surely is more personally to be valued than a printed letter expressing sorrow and perfectly spelled?

But Prime Minister Brown's slovenly execution of the hand-written letter was placed under a magnifying glass of caustic, mean-minded carping by an embittered mother seemingly finding difficulty in coming to terms with her loss. The letter received by her from Mr. Brown was meant to convey his deepest sympathy, his appreciation for the sacrifice of her son. His letter concluded by asking if there was any way he could help.

Ms. Jane's response? "One thing he can do is never, ever, send a letter out like that to another dead soldier's family. Type it, or get someone to check it. And get the name right." This British woman is likely aware of the name William Shakespeare, a British playwright of international acclaim and renown, said to be the greatest creative writer of all time, in fact. Mr. Shakespeare's spelling was notoriously peculiar. A reflection of the state of spelling in the 16th Century.

In fact, Mr. Shakespeare spelled his very own name in various ways. His laxness in spelling was no insult to the English language; he embroidered and exalted language, and from his pen came many of the wonderful words and phrases and thoughts that illuminate present-day English.
IN deliuering my sonne from me, I burie a se­
cond husband.
Ros And I in going Madam, weep ore my
fathers death anew; but I must attend his maie­
sties command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore
in subiection.
Laf You shall find of the King a husband Madame,
you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good,
must of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthi­
nesse would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack
it where there is such abundance.
Mo What hope is there of his Maiesties amendment?
Laf He hath abandon'd his Phisitions Madam, vn­
der whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope,
and finds no other aduantage in the processe, but onely
the loosing of hope by time.

Labels: , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home

 
()() Follow @rheytah Tweet