Opinion | Why Should Charles III Be King?

Prof. King Charles III, a telepath and the leader of the X-Men, is powerfully gifted, like the real Charles III (a noted gardener and watercolorist). The telepath Charles III would be, at first glance, a suitable king: powerful, grave. But the seeds of his ruin are in his gifts. The British king exists to uphold liberal democracy and protect us from the tyranny of overreaching politicians. At least that is what monarchists tell us. We will never have a Donald Trump — ha-ha — because we have a nervous man in handmade shoes whose bed travels with him to defend us!

That’s a king’s main job. (What, you thought it was to sell souvenirs?) I don’t mind King Charles (Xavier) III being fictional — all kings are fictional and invented in our minds to soothe us — but his telepathic powers make him too powerful to be trusted. This Charles would put us on a short road to tyranny. Next.

Charlize III is a gifted actor, which all good monarchs need to be, and an extraordinarily beautiful woman. British tabloid newspapers, which are mostly run by men who talk about women as if they had never met one and whose support for the monarchy is essential to its survival, would adore Charlize III and write millions of words of nonsense about her. Look at her shoes! Her silence! Her hair! Her silence! If she wore a garment twice, they would call it recycling, which it isn’t.

Then King Charlize III would reveal, accidentally or on purpose, that she is a human being, and they would turn on her as they turned on Meghan Markle and accuse her of trying to kill Princess Charlotte with lilies or the whole world with avocados. King Charlize III is too good for this. Next.

This Charles III grew up in poverty in Roald Dahl’s novel “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” He won a golden ticket to tour Willy Wonka’s confectionery and, unlike the other monstrous children who were sucked up through pipes or stuck inside televisions or made royal purple as punishment for their sins, he passed the test and inherited the factory. He proved himself worthy by humility — almost the ideal of Christian kingship. I have tears in my eyes.

Wax Charles III lives in Madame Tussauds on Baker Street, and more people met him in 2022 — 2.5 million — than the real king will meet during his whole reign. People could touch this Charles, in ways that might produce a satisfying metaphor: The late queen’s waxwork, for instance, wobbles when you pose for a picture with it.

Wax Charles III couldn’t be hurt or humiliated, so this would be a merciful choice; he could also be easily cleaned. When Charles III went to Buckingham Palace for the first time as king, a woman grabbed his hand and kissed it. (There’s always one.) The king looked grateful — it was his spiritual coronation — but it was a bit gross. The wax version could just be wiped down; parts that got worn could be replaced. Value for taxpayers, good transport links a bonus.

Britain had French kings before. William the Conqueror was from Normandy; his great-grandson Henry II owned half of France, but his son King John lost Normandy the way a normal person might lose a sock. Since the electors of Hanover took the throne in 1714, though, we have veered more to German kings than French ones: Balmoral Castle in Scotland looks like a Rhineland schloss.

Still, warrior kings, the original models, the kind who fought Saxons and scared people and became Holy Roman emperors, are a little redundant these days. They could be accused of toxic masculinity. Also, he is dead. I’m not against a ghost king in theory — he could do miracles or at least the appearance of them (my husband still thinks the king can cure scrofula) — but I am not sure about the logistics.

Another actor, who has the advantage of already being from a famous dynasty: his father played Jed Bartlet, the philosopher king from “The West Wing.” King Charlie (Sheen) III would be handsome but not as handsome as King Charlize (Theron). His narrative in “Wall Street” is touching but not as touching as that of King Charlie (Bucket). He has been a cocaine addict and a blackmail victim, has hired sex workers, has been subject to restraining orders, did a reported $7,000 worth of damage to the Plaza hotel and is rumored to have shot his fiancée in the arm. All this makes him too combustible to be a good monarch, but the tabloids would thrive under his rule.

A tempting suggestion, but royals make bad novelists (Queen Victoria’s books are apparently unreadably boring, though no one said that to her face), and novelists would make bad kings.

Novelists are emotionally porous. That is their job. King Charles (Dickens) III could not function in a country with failing public services and a system that taxes earnings, not wealth. He would see the homelessness, the child poverty and the lack of affordable housing and write a best-selling novella calling for his abolition. An obsession with social justice isn’t an option for a man who owns multiple palaces and an Aston Martin that runs on biofuel.

At its heart, the monarchy serves the same purpose as a sacred grouping of standing stones: They are mystical objects that we fancy nourish and guide us. The difference is that under Elizabeth II, instead of praying for their enemy’s cow to die, people wrote to her to beg for F.A. Cup final tickets. (Of the fact that our nation functionally collapsed over the years of her reign we will not speak on coronation day.)

Henges, as we know, can be charismatically lit. They can be benevolent or frightening or just a bit boring. They can be whatever you want them to be. The Charleshenge would be my choice. At least it’s honest. Minimal maintenance costs, too, if you choose granite. History is circular.

Dogs can do no wrong in Britain. If you think Elizabeth II was a successful mirror of people’s dreams, wait until you meet the dog version. Rather than moaning about the expense of renovating Buckingham Palace ($514 million) or small personal failings in the royal family (the Duke of York is accused of being a sex offender) or thinking, “Monarchy is an opaque and unaccountable evil that fortifies the class system and, with it, inequality. People pity us,” subjects would stare into the liquid eyes of King Charles (Spaniel) III and be enchanted into forgetting any desire for a modern democratic state with a politically literate electorate.

When it died, it could be replaced by a look-alike or a clone. No one would know. That’s the famous British political stability right there. Get thee on a cushion, give thyself a stolen diamond. We have a winner.