With divorce seemingly the hot topic at the moment, I, Sylvanus, thought I would take a dispassionate look at how any legislation to introduce divorce into these sainted isles might impact, say, the subsequent wedding ceremony.
Not, you understand, the civil affair. This is apparently just a question of confirming the identities of the couple in question, then signing them up. It is just an instant income tax break.
No, I’m thinking more of the full-blown gilt-edged blowout with a reception afterwards for 400people, with music provided byFreddie Portelli – you know, real class.
I took a good look at the current wedding ceremony and, quite frankly, as it is, it leaves little or no wiggle room. So I am suggesting a rewrite. Here goes: The cleric who will perform the amended ceremony will greet the congregation in a relaxed, dare one suggest jokey, manner.
“Hi y’all. On yer feet, the lot of you.”
All stand. He continues: “So it’s come to this has it. Debbie and Clyde are finally going to tie the knot… hopefully not around one another’s necks.” (Pause for prolonged and possibly hysterical, or, more likely, embarrassed laughter from the assembled congregation) “And like I said to Debbie’s mum Gracie just the other day, it’s about time, too!”
He can plod on in this vein for a few more minutes, or until the front pews start shuffling, yawning, or looking at their watches. Now it’s time for the ceremony proper.
The organ strikes up with a sotto version of the Manfred Mann 1960s hit, If You’ve Gotta Go – Go Now. The altar boys flanking the cleric start swinging their thuribles in time with the music and the cleric launches into his marriage spiel: “Is this really such a good idea guys? If yes, gimme a high-five. Yeah! And are you two gonna stick together till death, legal separation, boredom or, as a last resort, divorce do you part?”
If the response is in the affirmative, continue with: “And are you two gonna have crèches full of brats?” (This bit can be skipped if the couple happens to be over 50).
He continues: “Okay, now join hands.” He first addresses the groom: “Now you, Clyde, repeat after me: I, Clyde RomanoffStanislaw Borg, take you, Deborah Grace Imogene Micallef Bresslaw, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you, up to a point, in good times and rubbish times, in sickness – as long as I don’t have to clean up your bodily fluids – and health. I will love, honour (here you may want to insert the words ‘and obey’) you all the days of my life, or until someone better comes along, or until your cooking descends to the level of your mother’s, or until I just get bored with or sick of the sight of you.”
The bride’s response to this may be: “Yeah okay then”, or “it depends”, or even, “sure, as long as the pre nuptial is in place – and I get the house and car in my name”.
The cleric will now go through the same routine with the bride repeating each sentence after him and the groom responding something to the tune of the responses of the bride, plus the added, rather more macho, replies of: “Oh heck, go on then”, or “Do I have to?”, or “Is there a choice?”
Then they do the exchange of rings. This ceremony will be the same as before, but with a copy of each ring’s provenance accompanying the ring exchange. Just in case things don’t work out and the couple want to pawn or sell them.
And that, basically, is it. Apart from the happy-ish couple’s triumphal exit down the aisle to the strains of Amy Winehouse singing Will you still love me tomorrow?
Anyone for a civil partnership?