Oh, the Places We've Seen: Part 2

This week, I began typing up an Itinerary for this year's trip to England. Although we can change some of the lodging, all of it has finally been booked. Having this finished will help us focus our attention on the sites we really want to see, near the places we'll be staying. 

Sadly, none of those places will be in London, the capital of the United Kingdom, if not the cultural capital of the world. It's such a multicultural city, filled with so much history, culture, and life. It holds so many famous landmarks, locales used in films and movies, and places mentioned in novels. While we look toward the future, I thought I'd share one of those special moments from a previous visit there with you.

I know we've all seen Big Ben, the famous clock tower that rises above the Palace of Westminster, countless times in movies and TV shows. Still, it's a magnificent building. One of my favorite movies that prominently features Big Ben is "Shanghai Knights." Toward the end of the movie, we find Owen Wilson outside the tower, clinging to the minute hand for dear life, while inside, Jackie Chan clashes swords with the villain, Lord Rathbone. It's a great action comedy, and the interplay between Owen Wilson and Jackie Chan is terrific. So if you're interested in a fun adventure set in the past, in which our two heroes help save the British Royal Family, this movie is for you.

Another favorite Big Ben moment, nearly as great, comes from the Doctor Who season 1 episode "Aliens of London." As the Doctor and his companion Rose Tyler watch, an alien ship hurtles by overhead, crashes through the clock tower, and splashes down in the River Thames. I love all the old Doctor Who shows, such as the first Doctor adventure "The Dalek Invasion of Earth," that feature such landmarks prominently. But I've told you about those numerous times, and I haven't highlighted how great-looking and accessible the new series is. There's no wonder it's won new Doctor Who fans the world over, and this scene serves as a good example of the power it wields. 

Note: If you follow the link below to watch the scene, take an extra careful look at the clock face. You may notice a small difference there, from the one in my photograph.

The amazing thing is that London bustles with so much life, and offers up so many visual delights, that it's easy to miss something so big and tall. (Yes, I'm talking something infinitely bigger and taller than you'll find in your average Big And Tall shop). On our first visit to London, I was so mesmerized by everything around me, that my wife had to tell me to look up. More than once. "What?" I asked. "Why?" Finally, I took her suggestion and looked up. 

Wow.

Recently, I saw a documentary on Amazon Prime in which someone went inside Big Ben. I've always wanted to tour the inside, although as an American, I gather that wouldn't be possible unless I was an extra-special VIP, such as Tony Stark or Reed Richards. But then, given all the destruction in the Iron Man movies, and with the recent dissolution of the Fantastic Four in comics, perhaps neither man would be granted access right now. In any case, it was neat to see how different it looks from the dramatization in "Shanghai Knights." With a quick search on Youtube, I found a short documentary, part of the Guy Fox children's series, in which a young girl goes inside the clock tower. Even though I'd already seen the interior once, when I saw it again in the Guy Fox video, I couldn't help but follow the young girl's example, as she takes in one of the most impressive achievements of mankind, and says...

Wow.

Dragon Dave

Related Internet Links
Watch Shanghai Knights/Big Ben fight scene
Watch Aliens In London/Big Ben crash
Watch Guy Fox: Tour of Big Ben
Watch The Dalek Invasion of Earth: Episode 1

Welcomed into the Palace of Westminster

Beckoned toward our temporary home by an illuminated Big Ben, we walked past Westminster Palace, only to find that the line was nonexistent, and that Security was still letting people inside.

After being scanned, probed, photographed, and our belongings x-rayed, we were issued with badges displaying our names and faces.  We walked through the security room, out into a courtyard, and then into another building, which we learned was the old parliament building.  From atop the steps of this cavernous room, President Obama had addressed England’s cabinet ministers and both houses of parliament the previous week.  The building was filled with statues and other points of interest, but as the House of Commons had retired for the evening, we hurried upstairs, intent upon visiting the House of Lords before they too called their deliberations to an end.  

At another checkpoint, we were required to handover all cameras, phones, packages, and even our jackets to a cloakroom attendant.  So, just as Moses could not gaze directly upon the Lord’s face, so we could not photograph the faces of English lords.

While the greeters had given us several brochures, none explained to my satisfaction how the House of Lords differs from its more popular cousin.  From the “Yes, Prime Minister” episode “The Bishop’s Gambit,” I know that some of the older bishoprics include a seat in the House of Lords.  From “Yes Minister” and its sequel I know that one way the Prime Minister can curtail an ambitious minister’s power is to make him a Lord.  Alternatively, for a politician who cares more about serving the public than swaying the electorate, or who merely wishes to enjoy the status associated with being an English Lord, I gather that such a “promotion” would be welcomed.

A TV show, a play, and a learning experience?

The chamber of the House of Lords is smaller than the House of Commons, and while arranged similarly, its chairs and benches are upholstered in red, not green.  We sat in the visitors’ balcony, and looked down on a chamber that was barely half-full.  The Lords were discussing an issue regarding what was appropriate for appointed (not elected) officials who performed certain police-type duties in their community.  Obviously, the topic held us enthralled.  The Lords took no notice of us, but participated contentedly in their debate.  The instant one sat down, another rose to comment upon the previous Lord’s statement, or to make a point of his own.

Watching with us were not only TV cameras, but also carved life-size figures holding weaponry such as swords, which gave the chamber a regal feeling one may not get from the chambers of less-historic government bodies.  But impressive or not, there is only so much interest in the domestic debates of another country that can be summoned up after a day spent (mostly) on one’s feet.  So we left the House of Lords, and picked up ice cream bars along the way back to our hotel to put a sweet finish to our busy day.

In our room, we flipped channels, and watched as the coverage of the debate continued.  Unlike the House of Commons, in which a member of parliament (MP) will have to ignore cheers and jeers while he is speaking, the Lords’ conduct was more dignified.  There might have been the occasional “Here, here,” but no one booed another member of chamber, necessitating that the person orchestrating proceedings bang his gavel and demand quiet.  The greeters I had spoken with had said that the House of Lords is largely powerless these days, that it was in the process of reform, that gradually England was doing away with life-time appointments, and moving toward a point where all members were elected for shorter terms.  It is not my place to judge the merits of their reform process, but one wonders what will be lost in the process.  Will the House of Lords emerge as dignified as they are now, if those arguing in the red chamber are more aware of the cameras televising the debate?  Will they be as concerned with weighing a particular issue’s merits, as opposed to grandstanding for viewers, if in the near future they must seek the voters’ approval to serve another term?  Time, the great revealer, alone knows the answer to that question.

"Oh no, not more homework!"

Related Dragon Cache Entries

Turned Away from the Palace of Westminster

Walking Whitehall

The Sausage That Brings Isolation Part 1

Monty Python on Westminster Bridge

In the sketch “Nationwide”, a self-described “rather wet” TV news program sends its reporter John Dull out to Westminster Bridge.  While all the other news shows are covering World War Three, the producers of this program have instead decided to test out the latest theory: that sitting down regularly in a comfortable chair can prove relaxing.  At first, the reporter finds himself greatly relaxed in his Queen Anne chair as the traffic and pedestrians stream past.  Then a policeman approaches and accuses him of stealing the chair.  It seems that this chair belongs to a Mrs. Edgeworth of Pinner (a suburb of London), who is holding a matching chair across the street.


We never learn the exact reason why World War Three broke out this morning, but the policeman’s actions suggest the underlying cause behind all such conflicts.  On the mistaken example that Mr. Dull does not believe he is actually a policeman, the English bobby points to the official Metropolitan Identity Code on his helmet, then crosses the street to knock down Mrs. Edgeworth and return with her other chair.  He never notices when another officer mugs the woman he has just wronged.  Instead, with Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster in the background, he steals a notepad and a pen from passing businessmen, a box of sandwiches from two young women, and breaks into a store for two beers.  Ignoring Mrs. Edgeworth’s continual struggles across the bridge, the policeman sketches out a comparison of his helmet to that of the historic Czar’s secret police.  While he expounds on the prerogatives of his office, the two men enjoy their ill-gotten lunch.

John Dull sat here in his "stolen" chair, 
long before the arrival of the London Eye.

How quickly some of our leaders forget that they hold positions of authority in order to better serve our individual needs!  While some never forget who they are and why they hold office, others orchestrate programs that will supposedly serve the needs of specific classes or groups of citizens, and develop sweeping rules which make general categories of actions criminal.  In the process, these leaders ignore or dismiss cases of genuine injustice if an individual’s situation falls between the areas covered by their broad definitions.  Believing their efforts have proven worthwhile, they happily partake of the material rewards their positions entitle them to. 


By regularly enjoying prerogatives most citizens cannot afford, members of this latter group distance themselves from their populace.  So-called accomplishments swell their chests with pride; they view themselves as the divinely-appointed embodiment of the citizenry they represent.  Competitive instincts awaken.  Local and regional officials squabble for national resources, and if national leaders decide another country has more resources than their own...well, there is always an answer for that!


Aggression never rights wrongs: violence only creates successive injustices that compound the inequity they were intended to correct.  State-sponsored acts of aggression disrupt the natural order, and the resultant “lesser” injustices (in this case, stealing a chair and other items from citizens, or mugging a woman for her purse) get overlooked in attempts to “uphold law and order.”  Amid this chaos, whether we witness violence in the streets or watch the TV news endlessly reporting on it, the tendency is to get overwhelmed.  Collapsing into paralysis, we grasp hold of what comes easily, whether it be sitting in our Queen Anne chair, watching TV, or ignoring the injustice occurring before us.  I must find comfort where I can in such uncertain crimes, we tell ourselves. 


No one--not the businessmen, the women, or the shopkeeper--rushes to aid Mrs. Edgeworth when the policeman tries to steal her purse.  (John Dull does not even report on this flagrant violation to the cameraman!)  While it does not negate one’s moral obligation, it can seem difficult for an onlooker to know whether or not he should intervene in a struggle between others he does not know, perhaps over an issue he does not fully understand.  But the dilemma is an illusion: in order to preserve justice for all, individuals must rise to aid those whose rights are trampled on, especially by an authority figure. 


In fighting for what she believes is hers, Mrs. Edgeworth shows us the way forward.  All too often we settle for being John Dull.  If only more of us could be more like Mrs. Edgeworth.


“Nationwide” can be seen in the Monty Python fourth-season episode “Hamlet.” 

Westminster Bridge in Color, and in Black & White

Having left behind the statue of the rather complex man Richard the Lionheart, the Palace of Westminster so rich in design and ornamentation, and its famous clock tower known as Big Ben (such an icon for movie-makers and TV directors), it came as a shock to find myself suddenly approaching Westminster Bridge.  Just one of many that span the River Thames, the bridge welcomes one with its elegant simplicity.  Like its sister, Lambeth Bridge, one of its original purposes might have been to provide the monarch a direct route between Lambeth Palace and the Palace of Westminster, but the colors the two are painted (green for Westminster, red for Lambeth) suggest that the modern politicians’ Houses of Commons (upholstered in green) and that of the Lords (upholstered in red) now wield the most influence over this island nation. 


I feel a strong sense of belonging as I walk across it, watching the boats cruise beneath me in the Thames, and enjoying the busyness of the cars and the double-decker buses that transport London’s eight million citizens and countless visitors to their destinations.  I try not to impede my fellow pedestrians, who stream around and past me, surging along the wide sidewalk at this city’s usual frantic pace.  I pause for long moments to capture the perfect view of this bridge in my camera, or to photograph other nearby landmarks.  I make way for those standing in line to buy a sausage or roasted peanuts from a man working off a barbecue grill fashioned from half of a metal drum.  But along with what I see, other images rush to my mind, visions that enrich my sense of presence, of the history of this stretch of metal and concrete upon which I stand.

In “The Dalek Invasion of Earth,” the Doctor and his companions have become seperated.  Barbara throws in her lot with the resistance in London, led by an injured scientist named Dortmun.  She joins an attack on the Dalek spaceport, using new bombs created by Dortmun.  But the bombs fail to injure their enemies, and their attack becomes a rout.  With the resistance in tatters, Daleks scour the city, no longer taking captives, but killing any humans they find.  Barbara and her friend Jenny must get the wheelchair-bound Dortmun out of the city.  But in order to leave London, first they must cross the River Thames.


On a bright, clear morning, Barbara and Jenny push Dortmun along the walkway which hugs the Thames.  They help Dortmun climb from his wheelchair and up the stairs to the top of the bridge.  They look in every direction for the Dalek patrols.  Then, each woman places both her hands on one of the wheelchair handles, digs her feet into the pavement, and together, they propel the injured scientist across the bridge, toward the Palace of Westminster and beyond.


Although “Doctor Who” has transported us to so many places in time and space, for me, this moment stands out.  Filmed in Black & White, and accompanied by a sparse, martial beat, the camera carries us along on the group’s desperate flight.  The group races past notable landmarks, barely avoiding Dalek patrols.  For the most part, the camera focuses upon Barbara, Jenny, and Dortmun, upon the wheelchair’s spinning wheels and the women’s racing feet.  Sometimes, all we see is the shadow the group casts as they travel a bridge and roads devoid of all other human activity.  It is one of those moments that vividly captures the group’s desperation, their hope, and their valor.  Like a red-hot branding iron, that film sequence has burned it way into my memory.  Now I find their desperate flight superimposed upon the normal activity of contemporary London life.


I know it is just another bridge, one of many that transports pedestrians, cars, and tour buses across the River Thames.  I understand that it is just another place that has served as a location shoot for a TV show or a movie.  It is just a span of metal and concrete, not worth mentioning when compared with the city’s other sights and attractions.  And yet, because of that singular moment in Doctor Who, Westminster Bridge has become so very much more.


Flooded with images both past and present, reality merges seamlessly with the fiction I hold so dear.  I am complete.

The Power of Big Ben

Clocks order our days.  They dictate where we need to be, remind us if we fall behind in our duties, and periodically demand that we reassess our priorities.  In return for how they help us organize our lives, we craft them into diverse shapes and sizes, using an infinite variety of materials.  Clocks tick upon our mantles.  Intricate fretwork clocks guard our shelves.  Noisy cuckoo clocks and cat-clocks with roving eyes and swaying tails hang upon our walls.  Grandfather clocks dominate our entryways and rooms.  Cities build monumental clocks in which life-size figures move and dance and interact with each other.  But all of these, regardless of size or quality of workmanship, are banished from our minds in the presence of Big Ben.

This indomitable clock rises from the north end of the Palace of Westminster.  It towers above government officials, busy Londoners, and tourists.  It has become as recognizable a symbol of London and England as the Statue of Liberty is representative of New York City and the United States.  But Big Ben does not belong solely to just one city or nation or people.  In a strange way, it exerts its power and dominion over all of us.  And in return, we adore it.

Visual storytellers recognize its hold over the viewer.  Peter Pan lands atop Big Ben before heading off to Neverland.  Events in “The Great Mouse Detective” and “Shanghai Nights” climax with a fight in the clock’s workings or out on its faces.  In the movie based on the British TV show “The Avengers,” when Sir August de Wynter attempts to hold the world to ransom with his weather-control machinery, he demonstrates his weapon's effectiveness by using lightning to destroy Big Ben.  In the science fiction comedy “Mars Attacks!” and the Doctor Who episode “Aliens of London,” invading aliens cannot resist destroying this famous landmark.  And when Big Ben appears in the opening of the TV sitcoms “The New Statesman” or “Yes Minister,” we know that we are about to watch a show about the British government at work.

As I wrestle with my camera to cram as much of Big Ben as I can into frame, I feel the tight knots inside me begin to loosen.  Before, as I walked past buildings displaying London’s diverse variety of architectural styles, I could have been in any city enriched by centuries of human habitation.  Westminster Abbey’s treasures inspired a sense of awe, but I have visited many beautiful churches.  For varying reasons, both experiences reminded me that I was a foreigner.  Now, in Big Ben’s presence, I know where I am. 

I may have traveled halfway around the world, but strangely, I now feel more at ease in this immense and bustling city.

Related Dragon Cache entries

A Journey into English Fiction Part 1

Where Church and State are One: Part 1