I was primed to enjoy Spare. Of all the royals, my opinion of Harry is the highest (although I'll admit that's not saying much...I'm a staunch republican). He seemed the most genuine and down-to-earth of the lot, and this book definitely tries very hard for the "everyman" approach. But, despite going into this book with a great deal of sympathy for what I've seen the media put Harry through, especially recently, I ended the book with a significantly lower opinion of him than when I started.
Spare is a book whose only narrative is hatred of the press. While I can understand from where that hatred stems, that hatred is used as a crutch throughout. It becomes easier for Harry to blame the "bad" press than take any time to interrogate his own actions, or the fundamentally abusive relationship he has with his family. It comes across as very "royals good, press bad," without any true analysis of the situation that has created that reality.
The book itself, while well-written, is obviously padded. Having worked as a ghostwriter myself for nearly a decade, there were telltale signs I recognised. It was filled with a lot of pointless waffle, irrelevant sentences, and editorialising you wouldn't see in a self-written autobiography. There are two perfect examples early in the book. On page 38, Harry talks about his Mother's funeral, a moment that should be emotional and poignant.
Farther down the line I spied Ginger Spice, the only Spice with whom I felt any connection—a fellow ginger.
This quote doesn't fit the tone of the moment at all; it's the kind of thing someone says to fill a silence. I found this obvious content padding to be a constant throughout Spare, and it really took me out of it. The result was a book that could have been at least 200 pages shorter. This book would definitely have been better served with a good old prune, to make it tighter and a bit more fast-paced. The book dragging and being overlong didn't do Harry any favours, and had it been a bit more succinct, the negative parts may not have been quite so glaring.
Due to the overwhelming length of Spare, it becomes abundantly clear how much Harry plays the perpetual victim, only ever doing surface-level self-reflection. Everything is always someone else's fault. The infamous Nazi incident is a prime example.
More than a birthday party, it was a fancy-dress party, with a cringy theme. Natives and colonials. Guests were required to dress accordingly
The italics in the above quote come directly from the book. But the choice to wear that uniform was Harry's, and his alone. And while he does take a degree of responsibility, it is only in so far as to paint himself in a more positive light. He blames the event on the ignorance of his privilege, on his brother and Kate, on the sensational reporting of the press, but also expects a pat on the back for his family forcing him to speak to a Rabbi and do some personal growth after the event. That he did learn from the experience, I have no doubt, but the entire event is painted as someone else's fault, and Harry, merely a poor victim of ignorance and circumstance.
Another thing that struck me is how painfully unaware Harry seems about his privilege. The narrative is constructed to present him as the "everyman". He's just like you and me! He does his groceries at Waitrose and shops at TK Maxx! But this is all reported without once interrogating the fact that Harry lives in palaces rent free, and receives a clothing allowance. Sure, his father may hold the purse strings, and Harry does make a good point about never having the opportunity to gain financial independence, however, that does not negate the immense privilege he has.
A prime example of Harry's ignorance to his privilege is when he laments that he and Megan had to tighten the purse strings because the Royal family will no longer provide them with private security.
Exactly then, while we were revising our budget, word came down: Pa was cutting me off!
At the beginning of the next chapter, a page or so later, he then talks about getting enough money together to buy a mansion with a Koi pond because it was cheap!
We found a place. Priced at a speed discount. Just up the coast, outside Santa Barbara. Lots of room, large gardens, a climbing frame—even a pond with koi carp.
The koi were stressed, the estate agent warned.
So are we. We'll all get along famously.
No, the agent explained, the koi need very particular care. You'll have to hire a koi guy.
Uh-huh. And where does one find a koi guy?
The agent wasn't sure.
We laughed. First-world problems.
I also took exception to how Harry talks about some of his other interests. He talks about hunting in terms of conservation; something that has been disproved time and time again. It's just an excuse the rich people use to kill things. He also talks about his military career as a service, and yet once again fails to interrogate the privilege he was afforded. He had his pick of jobs, was given private tuition on his Grandmother's estate, and was airlifted out of any real danger. For someone who hates the press, he doesn't seem to realise how much the press was responsible for obscuring his privilege in the military.
RAF Markham had received dozens of complaints. Sandringham was supposed to be a no-fly zone.
All complaints were told: Such is war.
As if Prince Harry getting private pilot lessons at his grandmother's palace somehow counts as a necessity of war...
And don't even get me started on the subtle racism displayed throughout when he talks about anyone who isn't white. A big deal was made about his "Paki" comment in the press at the time, and it is addressed in this book (although not with any real consideration, except "the press blew it all out of proportion"), but the subtle undercurrent of racism is the real issue in Spare. He talks about the Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, referring to him just as "a bloke who just walked out of a palace and sat under a banyan tree." He says of the highly contentious Koh-i-Noor diamond, "Acquired" by the British Empire at its zenith. Solen, some thought." And when he talks about the Gurkhas, they come across as mascots.
At Sandhurst the Gurkhas always played the enemy in military exercises, which always felt a bit ridiculous because they were beloved
Gee, Harry, I'll give you one guess why that might be...
They had a solemn reverence for royalty. A king, to their minds, was divine...A prince, therefore, wasnt' far off. I'd felt this growing up, but now felt it again.
But what was really missing from Spare was an interrogation of the royal family itself. everything was presented as a family drama, and never a question of whether the institution itself is deeply flawed. While I have some sympathy for Harry, ultimately, his hardships are the result of a self-perpetuating institution that has no aim other than the preservation of their own wealth. It's easy to blame the press. But harder to question how much your privilege has shielded you, or actively caused you harm.
The royals are presented as being in league with the press, but it's the press that is the ultimate bad guy. Forget the fact that it's a symbiotic relationship to justify the Royal Family's existence to a public who pays for them. And for me, that's the real sin of this book. Harry's tragedies are all avoidable. The Royal Family aren't necessary, and if anything, Spare proves that the institution is actively harmful, not only to the public, but to the family as well.
My Kindle is filled with notes and highlights of some of the abjectly shocking things this book put out into the world, but I have to end this review somewhere. Spare was definitely an interesting read, but it was far too long, and said nothing of any value. It's ultimately a sad tale about an institution that harms everything it touches, and a man too blinded by his own privilege to interrogate his reality.