I read Prince Harry’s memoir Spare.
Who didn’t?
While reading it, I felt the same sinking sense of dread that I experienced while reading Selma Blair’s Mean Baby. I felt like the reader was hurtling towards reading about tragedy, albeit I knew what the tragedies would be during this book: death, war, family estrangement.
How Harry secretly suspected that his mom had staged her own death in order to live the remainder of her life in peace, free from the paparazzi would have been the most shocking part of the book. However as this was highlighted by those who had advanced copies and reviewed the book, I had a week or so to mentally prep myself for Harry’s reaction.
I was shocked at how much of the book was devoted to Prince Harry’s time in the military. Having grown up with both parents in the military, both grandfathers in the military, and husband in the military, I mentally divorce myself from the sacrifice. I read about life in the service through Harry’s lens. Eventually I stopped reading this section of the book and skipped to the next.
Reading about the estrangement between William and Harry was rather devastating. Imagine going through such a marred youth, only to to grow so far apart from the person most closest, in DNA at least. That the brothers came to physical blows is a shame to the family.
Royals! They are just like us.
I won’t be re-reading this. I am glad I gave it a shot though, if only to be able to thoughtfully contribute to all of the group chats-slash-impromptu-book clubs I am in.
Spare by Prince Harry
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