This book doesn't need an introduction-- if you live anywhere in the Western world, you've heard about it. But just in case you haven't, this is Prince Harry's tell-all (or, if he's to be believed, heavily edited down tell-most).
All of the book's most sordid details have already been covered ad nauseam by the press. We all know that William, the Prince of Wales, allegedly physically attacked Harry in an argument over Meghan. We have first person confirmation of Harry's copious use of drugs. We know about Harry's loss of virginity behind a bar to an older woman who rode him like a horse. We even know about Harry's frostbitten penis.
So, instead of talking more about the content of the book, I wanted to talk about my experience in reading it, and then, for something completely unexpected, about King Charles, Harry's father.
Reading this book got a lot better for me when I started to let myself relax into it and treat it like a work of fiction rather than a memoir. Whether Harry is a reliable narrator, and if so to what degree, was the most interesting question that this book presented for me. Unfortunately, unlike many novels where an unreliable narrator is used to great affect, there's never any wink toward the audience that helps you guess what the objective truth is. Harry admits himself he has no memory for conversations, and that he was on drugs for large portions of his youth. He is also self-evidently attempting to present himself and his new nuclear family in the most favorable light possible while throwing almost everyone else under the bus-- I think the only person outside his current nuclear family who is talked about at length and escapes relatively unscathed is his first serious girlfriend, Chelsy Davy. It's also obvious in the book that Harry has mental health issues, and that these were at times what I'd call severe-- it's possible they still are. At the same time, the book somehow has a ring of veracity that leads me to think that Harry is speaking his truth. The question of whether this is actually the truth is a different one, and I'm inclined to think the answer is 'no'.
Reading this book got a lot better for me when I started to let myself relax into it and treat it like a work of fiction rather than a memoir. Whether Harry is a reliable narrator, and if so to what degree, was the most interesting question that this book presented for me. Unfortunately, unlike many novels where an unreliable narrator is used to great affect, there's never any wink toward the audience that helps you guess what the objective truth is. Harry admits himself he has no memory for conversations, and that he was on drugs for large portions of his youth. He is also self-evidently attempting to present himself and his new nuclear family in the most favorable light possible while throwing almost everyone else under the bus-- I think the only person outside his current nuclear family who is talked about at length and escapes relatively unscathed is his first serious girlfriend, Chelsy Davy. It's also obvious in the book that Harry has mental health issues, and that these were at times what I'd call severe-- it's possible they still are. At the same time, the book somehow has a ring of veracity that leads me to think that Harry is speaking his truth. The question of whether this is actually the truth is a different one, and I'm inclined to think the answer is 'no'.
Interestingly, despite Harry's dogged determination to present King Charles as the worst father imaginable, he ends up coming across as an altogether decent dad. Harry, on the other hand, comes across as quite spoiled and entitled in their interactions. I understand that their dynamic is heavily shaped by Harry's hero worship of his mother, and the way in which his father failed his mother. But Harry fails to make a real case for how Charles failed him. He talks about a man who, despite heavy social engagements, would sit with him every single night until he fell asleep because he was afraid to be alone in the dark. He talks about a man who would leave heartfelt notes about how proud he was of him on his pillow (not good enough for Harry, who evidently can only tolerate hearing praise directly and in person). He talks about a man who attended his school play and laughed uproariously, and how furious he was because Charles laughed at the 'wrong' parts. He talks about his immature and crazy request that Charles never marry again as though this was something reasonable to demand of a person, and still to this day seems to view it as a huge betrayal that Charles went ahead and married again anyway. He talks about a thoughtful, scholarly man who is mild mannered and cares for and respects the Earth. I'd rather have Charles in my life than Harry any day if this book is anything do go on.
I would wholeheartedly recommend this anyone with any interest in the British royal family-- 100% guaranteed you'll be suitably entertained. But I'd also take it all with a grain of salt, because, while objective truth is out there, we'll never find it. This is especially true since almost all of the very people who Harry is bashing aren't able to respond to the accusations against them in any substantive way.
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