BRITISH INNS 3: THE JOYLESS JESTER

THE BRITISH PUB

 

For centuries the great British Pub has been the traditional centre of social life in most communities. It has been a place to relax, take your ease and enjoy good conversation with friends. These pubs welcomed anybody - old or young, male or female, smoker or non-smoker - to sit and enjoy the simple activities and facilities. In recent years these traditional values have been eroded or changed beyond recognition - many have become little more than glorified eateries, hideous themed bars or [worse] deafeningly loud ‘vertical drinking’ corrals void of anybody over thirty years old. The nationwide smoking ban has just about finished off the normal pub camaraderie. These pieces were written as a tribute to a disappearing tradition, and supported some fictitious Inn Sign designs I made which can be seen on my flickr site. http://www.flickr.com/photos/7911705@N07

 

This is one of those Inns

 

THE JOYLESS JESTER 

 

You can divide the clientele of ‘The Joyless Jester’ into two distinct groups. One group [who return year after year] could be best described as ‘royal watchers’, who live for the day that they bump into HM Liz in her headscarf and rubber gumboots trudging through the village with her bad-tempered and distinctly unfriendly corgis. The village is, as you have guessed, close to one of the more frequently-used royal palaces. Indeed, the village is still part of the estate. It’s quite appropriate to have a Jester in the vicinity, since jesters have long been associated with kings and queens as such. Why Joyless? Well, think about it – you spend your time performing to best of your ability, amusing and boosting the ego of your Lord and Master and you end up being taken for a fool. A bit like Monica and Bill, really.   The other group who frequent the hotel are usually there for the peace and quiet and the glorious scenery – well you’d hardly expect to find a royal palace in any old patch of land, would you? Most often these are single people who have suffered some personal loss or tragedy – bereavement, betrayal by a partner, divorce and have come to this quiet backwater for time to be on their own and think, grieve or just plain hate the one responsible for their misery. Paradoxically, some of these sad and single folk strike up fruitful friendships - and more - and then the dolorous name of the inn doesn’t seem quite so apt.   They won’t get much joy from their meals. The chef, who was recently considered ‘surplus to requirements’ at the Palace, loves the village and also loves nouvelle cuisine. If you’re like me you’ll consider this strategy to be a crafty way to keep portion costs down. Most servings look like plate decorations – very pretty but gone in two forkfuls.   You won’t get fat, that’s for sure.   Don’t forget if you’re off on a nature walk with your new-found lady friend [who really has suffered, just like you] and you happen to spot a certain royal personage, that you are duty bound to inform the rest of the guests, especially the ‘royal groupies’. You get double points [and a free night’s drinks at the unremarkable but adequate bar] if you happen to note that she was accompanied by a prince or two.