The Uncommon Reader

The Queen continues to meet with “grand visitors” (60), including the President of France, who sparks a new interest in reading the famous author Proust. She goes on her summer holiday at Balmoral with a large collection of books. Despite the fact that the summer felt “cold, wet and unproductive” for the other summer guest, the vacation was “an idyll” (62) for the Queen, as it meant she could spend all of her time reading.

Sir Kevin becomes more frustrated by Norman’s presence by the Queen’s side, and after the prime minister sends his special adviser to complain about Norman, Sir Kevin begins to develop a plan to get rid of Norman. When the Queen goes to visit Canada on what turns out to be a “disastrous” (65) tour, Sir Kevin calls Norman to his office. Sir Kevin tells Norman that Her Majesty “wonders if [he] ha[s] ever thought of university” (67). When the Queen returns, Norman has left the palace for the University of East Anglia, and Sir Kevin has made sure that none of Norman’s letters reach the Queen. The Queen is not surprised by his disappearance since “sudden absences and abrupt departures had always been a feature of her life” (70). Further, the Queen feels that she has somewhat “outgrown” (71) Norman and is excited to move forward with her reading.

As the Queen becomes a more sophisticated reader, she begins “putting more and more of her thoughts on paper” (72). She reads more of the classics from the palace libraries and develops relationships with the librarians. In all other proceedings, the Queen feels “almost surplus […] just a piece of luggage” (76). This causes an almost undistinguishable discomfort amongst the staff. Where previously the Queen would “perform” (77) by doing something mundane, her reading makes it so that she performs this role much less.

The palace staff are concerned by the Queen’s new habit of writing in her notebooks. They discuss the possibility that the Queen has Alzheimer’s disease. Yet the cause of the Queen’s “dramatic falling away from her own self-imposed standards of decorum” (83) is really only her reading. The prime minister has issue with the Queen’s inattention to her wardrobe and appearance. He works out a solution to get Sir Claude, an “ancient royal servant” (87) to come out from his cottage to speak with the Queen and try to persuade her back into decency.

Sir Claude, who has poor memory and a habit of falling asleep at the table, comes to meet with the Queen in the palace, where he broaches the subject of reading. When he introduces the idea, saying, “Your Majesty has started reading,” the Queen corrects him, “These days one is reading more” (92). The Queen immediately ascertains “why he had come and who had put him up to it” (93), and she loses all compassion for Sir Claude. As he struggles to convince her to read less, and after a brief nap at her desk, Sir Claude decides to try to convince her to write instead. Although the Queen is not happy about Sir Claude’s visit, she still finds “herself thinking about it that evening” (97).

The Queen considers writing about her life. She struggles with feeling that she has “no voice” (99). Although she starts reading less, she is “pensive,” spending “long hours at her desk” (101). She’s aware that her “writing would be even less popular than her reading” (101), but she is happy with the task.

When the Queen stays for a few days at Sandringham, she finds Norman, who is serving a meal for the vice-chancellor. At first, the Queen is upset that Norman “seemed to have made no progress in the world at all” (104), but she soon discovers that he is a student. She reflects that “she knew more of people’s feelings than she used to,” as she worries about Norman, worrying why “he was so put out” (105). The Queen meets with Norman later to hear about how he came to be at the university and arranges for him to support her in her writing. She figures out that Sir Kevin has “deceived” (106) her and fires him, sending him back to New Zealand.

For the Queen’s 80th birthday, she decides to throw a party and “assemble all those who had had the privilege of adviser her over the years” (107). The Queen moves “happily among her guests” (107) as they enjoy the tea she has arranged.

When it is time for her remarks, the Queen surveys the crowd and begins speaking about her age and experience, noting that “at eighty, things do not occur; they recur” (110). She then discusses her more recent turn towards reading, quickly transitioning to her idea that “it is time that from being a reader I become, or try to become, a writer” (111). The prime minister gets excited to tell her to write about her “reminiscences” (111). The Queen explains that she intends to write a much different kind of book, one more in line with famous authors of the past. The audience is confused.

As the Queen describes her intent to analyze and reflect in her writing, the members of her audience push back her approach, arguing that books are not so useful. The Queen begins describing in detail the kind of analysis she would like to do, critiquing some of the actions she has taken and supported as Queen. She concludes her speech by describing an unexpected position: “I am the Queen and head of the Commonwealth, but there have been many times in the last fifty years when that has made me feel not pride but shame” (117). Then Queen proposes a champagne toast.

After the toast, the prime minister addresses the room again to remind the Queen of her “unique position” (119) and the precedent that a person can only write a text if they have “abdicated” (120), or renounced the throne. The text closes as the Queen responds, “‘Oh, did I not say that? [...] But… why do you think you’re all here?” (120).