If ever Prince Harry writes another volume of memoir, he may choose to look back on 2023 as his annus horribilis. The year began in high-profile fashion, with the publication of his autobiography Spare. This book swiftly became the fastest-selling non-fiction work of all time; he marked its appearance with promotional interviews that alternated between defensive, irritable and unduly arrogant. Yet Harry’s year is ending with myriad humiliations. These include losing one of his apparently innumerable court cases, he and his wife, Meghan Markle, being described as the ‘biggest Hollywood losers’ and a much-ridiculed video clip of the various endeavours of their charitable foundation Archewell over the past twelve months.
If one was to be generous, you might feel sorry for Harry and Meghan. A strange emotion, granted, to bear towards two fabulously wealthy people who lead a life of privilege and luxury that most people could not even begin to conceive. Yet ever since their quasi-abdication from the Royal Family in early 2020 – an event that would have been the year’s most talked-about occurrence, had it not been then wholly overshadowed by the pandemic – there is a sense that they are both desperately peddling anything they can in a bid to remain both relevant and a global brand.
The rot had already set in when Harry and Meghan were mercilessly mocked in a February episode of South Park
Famously, the motto of Harry’s family is ‘never complain, never explain’. He has ignored both parts of that adage, and has spent countless time both complaining and explaining. Now, the world has listened, and it has decided that it is thoroughly sick of both him and his wife.
There have been countless missteps. This suggests that Harry and Meghan are in desperate need either of better advisers or of actually listening to the people who they presumably pay handsomely for their counsel. The much-ballyhooed Netflix series in which they spoke their highly selective version of ‘their truth’ last year was an embarrassing and costly flop, and meant that Harry’s (actually far better) documentary on the Invictus Games this year was all but ignored. Meghan’s self-indulgent podcast – the recipient of a $20 million (£15.8 million) deal with the streaming service Spotify – was described, witheringly, by the Hollywood Reporter as ‘inert’. Meanwhile, the company executive Bill Simmons castigated the pair as ‘fucking grifters’.
The rot had already set in when they were mercilessly mocked in a February episode of South Park as the ‘Dumb Prince and his Stupid Wife’. Nothing has happened since to restore their dignity or the reputation that the pair seem to crave.
So, what does 2024 and beyond hold for the less-than-dynamic duo? Well, there are an awful lot of court cases for Harry to deal with, so his expensive lawyers will be busy. No doubt he will win most, if not all, of them, but every single setback and humiliation that he faces will be gleefully reported by the international press, who he has gone out of his way to set himself against. Not since Jonathan Aitken vaingloriously announced that he would battle the Guardian with ‘the simple sword of truth and the trusty shield of fair play’ has a public figure been so desperate to combat the forces of the media. The Duke should remember that Aitken lost, spectacularly, and ended up bankrupt and in prison as a result of committing perjury.
Meghan has been a good deal quieter this year than her husband. But after the ridicule that greeted her 2022 children’s book The Bench, it is probably just as well she has not been trying to channel her talents into any more writing or acting. She signed with the powerful William Morris Endeavor talent agency in April, but no publicly known projects have arisen from it.
Meghan’s potential political ambitions have been the subject of speculation for some time, but those now seem impossibly risible. The best that she can hope for, personally and professionally, is a return to Suits, the show that made her name in the first place.
It is easy to level invective at the Duke and Duchess of Sussex; too easy, perhaps. Yet they really are their own worst enemies, conducting their very public personal lives with an unappealing level of entitlement and smugness. This has led to them becoming the bête noire of everyone from committed republicans to the most ardent monarchists.
In 1937, the royal private secretary Sir Alec Hardinge expressed a wish that the proto-Harry and Meghan, the Duke of Windsor and Wallis Simpson, might decamp to Australia, on the grounds that ‘It would have the double advantage of giving [them] an interest in life…and of anchoring [them] somewhere not too near this country.’ Nearly eight decades on, surely the equivalent for the Duke and Duchess would be to wonder if they would be happiest out in space, far away from all their detractors and nemeses. Who knows: if it all went well, they might even get a new Netflix series out of it. Whether anyone would be interested in watching, of course, remains another matter entirely.
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