Great Begins to Grate

The great thing about the word 'great' is that it has more than one meaning, so it can be used - knowingly or unknowingly - to convey different messages. This is an important part of linguistic nuance and there are many other examples. 'Gay' is such a word - and there are pedants who rail against its modern usage. But they may as well save their energy for enquiring into the history of how and why it came about and be consoled by the fact that context will reveal the user's intended expression.

            On the other hand, the unfortunate thing about the word 'great' is that it has been incorporated into the name of our nation. Others have names which clearly define their status: France and Germany are simply republics; America comprises several states which became united; China is a people's republic and Russia is a federation. But our own attempt at definition - The United Kingdom of Great Britain & Northern Ireland - is rendered ambiguous precisely by the inclusion of that adjective 'great'. It was intended to mean "the larger part" (of the British Isles) but, knowingly or otherwise, it has been misconstrued by too many for too long as meaning 'superior'.

            Whilst it is valid for a nation to claim superiority over others in terms of quantifiable factors such as size, wealth or power it is unacceptable to allow a sideways slip towards inferred moral, cultural or racial transcendence. So what, exactly, did our Prime Minister mean yesterday when he rounded off his tribute speech to Margaret Thatcher thus: "And let this be her epitaph: that she made Britain great again"? “Great”? One suspects an appeal to the irrational, nationalistic pride of his electorate. “Again”?  One detects the perpetuation of jingoistic mythology. “Patriotism” said Samuel Johnson “is the last refuge of the scoundrel”.

Back home from our excursion to Cornwall, friends are asking "How was your trip?" to which I unthinkingly reply "Great!" - as in “wonderful, inspiring or surprising”. Of course not everything came up to that mark: the romantic promise of the A30 trunk road does come to a disappointing end in an unkempt car park (charge £5) in front of the commercial complex that defines (and defiles) Land's End. But, not far away, at Minack, is the inspirational outdoor theatre cut into a cliff high above the sea. It was built by the remarkable Rowena Cade, another woman of vision, determination and strength of purpose - though she applied herself to the creation of a cultural asset rather than a financial one.

            And within a few miles there is the Tremenheere sculpture garden, a romantically inspired valley where the owner has embarked on a programme of planting and art installation, fusing the natural grace of the landscape with artistic creations to make a beautiful place for all to share in contemplation.

            Over on the north coast is the magnificently located ruin of Tintagel Castle where we can marvel at the endeavour of its builders, imagine the ancient histories and myths of England and buy souvenirs from the shops in the village.

            And St. Ives, former fishing port and home to an influential group of artists, is now the quintessential seaside resort for well-heeled families who watch the surfers from the trendy, beach-side café-bars. Nearby, the Tate celebrates the artistic connection at its modest but serene gallery where it displays world-class art for its acolytes and the holidaymakers alike.

            And all the while, brooding down in Rocky Valley, there are ancient, labyrinth petroglyphs, mysteriously enhanced by the surrounding, makeshift shrines of present-day New-Agers and Neo-Paganists.

            And all these pleasures and treasures are to be found in just one small corner of the real Great Britain.