Lingua Franca

Dealing with the death of someone close is one of life's biggest challenges. Having to find the words for a eulogy, and the emotional strength to present it publicly, can be almost as confronting, as Mark Wakely explores in his new book, Sweet Sorrow: A Beginner's Guide to Death.

Transcript

The most publicised funeral ever, televised internationally, has to've been that for Diana Frances Spencer, Princess of Wales, held over a decade ago now in a packed Westminster Abbey swollen with mourners outside as well, along with a welling forth of sentiment that touched even those assembled within the abbey walls.

At first, the people in the packed abbey thought the sound coming from outside was rain falling. But as the noise swept though the doors, they slowly realised that it was not rain, it was applause. Applause from the tens of thousands of mourners outside who had just listened on loud speakers to the most famous eulogy of the twentieth century at the most watched funeral in history; an ovation that proved contagious as those in the abbey joined in the clapping, everyone except the people the cameras were focused on, the Royal Family.

Millions of people around the world had watched as Charles, Earl Spencer, eulogised his sister Diana, Princess of Wales. The Earl's eulogy came straight after Elton John's song 'Goodbye England's Rose', a saccharin reworking of his Marilyn Monroe tribute, 'Candle in the Wind'. After Elton's turn, the congregation must have wondered how any spoken words could top that act, but top it they did as the Earl launched into his speech. 'I stand before you today, the representative of a family in grief, in a country in mourning, before a world in shock.'

But it was the reference to Diana's sons, Harry and William, that created the biggest stir, as he addressed his words directly to his sister. 'On behalf of your mother and sisters, I pledge that we, your blood family, will do all we can to continue the imaginative and loving way in which you were steering these two exceptional young men so that their souls are not simply immersed by duty and tradition but can sing openly as you planned.'

Ten years after Diana's funeral, the Earl was invited to contribute to a series of newspaper columns about rhetoric and he took the opportunity to explain how he had composed his momentous address. He had jotted down 20 or 30 random thoughts, most of them personal memories demonstrating Diana's qualities, from which he had hoped to piece together a speech. But by the time he went to bed he had written only two sentences and was struggling. At four in the morning he woke up and went to his study. He decided to keep his personal memories private and, instead, to incorporate into the speech the two main themes that were reflected in the many letters he had received. Those themes were: concern about the 'gutter press' that had hounded his sister, and anxiety about how the boys would be raised now that Diana was dead. Deciding to air these concerns and to make the speech a celebration of his sister's life, cleared his writer's block. He told Guardian readers that within two hours he'd completed every word.

The Earl says he has no recollection of the clapping that swept through the abbey that day, just as many people who deliver eulogies for close relatives will say afterwards that it is nothing more than a blur in their memories. Yet for those listening, the eulogy is usually the most remembered part of a funeral service. And the current generation of baby boomers seem more game than their parents to take on the task.

The English poet laureate Andrew Motion, whose role includes helping to write eulogies for the Royal Family, was recruited by British funeral directors in 2003 to contribute to a free self-help handbook for people daunted by the task of writing and delivering eulogies. 'A eulogy', he wrote, 'is like handing a photograph to everyone present and allowing them to keep it when the ceremony ends.' A British book reviewer expressed the hope that, by encouraging people to overcome their nervousness and speak with bravery and originality about the dead, the poet laureate might ensure that W.H. Auden's poem 'Funeral Blues', popularised by the film Four Weddings and a Funeral, might now disappear from the funeral chapel and quietly return to the bookshelf.

Traditionally, the structure of a eulogy follows a pattern: the virtues of the dead person are acknowledged, their loss is lamented and the hope is held out that their spirit will live on. We can trace the path of the funeral oration back at least 400 years before Christ, to Pericles, who delivered the funeral oration for the Athenian soldiers who had died in the Peloponnesian War.

Cyrus M Copeland, editor of Farewell, Godspeed: The Greatest Eulogies of Our Time, says great eulogies do not begin with, 'We are gathered here today to remember'. The gathered clearly know why they are there. Copeland sees a good eulogy as a bridge between the living and the dead, between us and them, memory and eternity. And the more specific and real the remembrances spoken, the stronger the bridge.

Copeland includes in his book Dianne Sawyer's eulogy for Lucille Ball: 'There is a debate that is one of the longest running theological arguments in Christianity', she says. 'The issue is this: Is there laughter in heaven?' And Madonna, eulogising Gianni Versace, began with, 'I slept in Versace's bed', but she went on to assure the congregation that Versace wasn't there at the time. For a strong finish it is difficult to go past James Wood concluding Bette Davis's memorial service with: 'Fasten your seatbelts, it's going to be a bumpy eternity!'

To deliver a eulogy can take amazing courage. When an Australian federal policeman died in a plane crash, I noticed that the newspaper coverage of the funeral commented on the bravery his wife displayed eulogising her husband. The reporter wrote how, the day the woman married the policeman, she was too shy to give a speech. But before a packed cathedral, during the funeral, she stood up and talked confidently about the love of her life.

Perhaps people worry too much about breaking down while delivering eulogies and about the need to give seamlessly polished performances. At the funeral of a neighbour of mine, her four sons, all grown men, eulogised their mother together. When one could go no further, another took over. They were, as one of them quipped, the tag team of tears.

That funeral was in a Catholic church. In 2007, the Catholic Church in Australia released a set of guidelines for speaking in remembrance of the dead at a funeral mass, setting a five-minute limit. The tag team of tears would be out under the Sydney archdiocese guidelines, which suggest that only one person speak, unless it is a state funeral for a significant figure. Out, too, are overt displays of emotion. The Church argues that, if the speaker becomes emotional or has difficulty delivering the words, it can exacerbate the grief of the bereaved. Out as well are stories of drinking prowess or romantic conquests by the dead person. The priest who co-ordinated the guidelines said the aim was to put God back into the funeral.

There is no question about the significance of the eulogy in the Jewish faith. In his book, The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning, Rabbi Maurice Lamm says the eulogy is one of the most important obligations of mourners and heirs. And although the adage that one should not speak ill of the dead holds true in Judaism, the Rabbi is at pains to ensure that those doing the eulogising don't exaggerate the virtues of the dead. The eulogy should not exaggerate or invent qualities that the dead person did not possess.

The tendency to speak well of the dead (too well, in many cases) has become quite common. An ordinary person who has led a decent life can be turned into a secular saint in their eulogy. Worse, our reluctance to speak ill of the dead can mean that people who were demonised during their lives can be given glowing references in death. This apparent hypocrisy was the target of the ABC's satirical TV program The Chaser's War on Everything last year. In their 'Eulogy Song', the team demolished the reputations of many dead famous people, among them national heroes, shock jocks, wildlife adventurers, pop singers and even the Princess of Wales. It described their alleged peccadilloes and character flaws in lurid detail, and concluded that (and this is the more polite bit): '...all will be forgotten when we take our final breath...because even pricks and wankers will be top blokes after death'. It was the sort of satire that even the program's biggest fans were probably cringing at through their laughter. But if comedy is tragedy plus time, clearly not enough time had passed for many who saw the program, and a considerable number who did not. The horror echoed through the land via a frenzied media. In the middle of a national election campaign, the Prime Minister said it was 'despicable'; his opposite number declared it 'absolutely disgusting'. There were even calls for the ABC to lose its public funding. The Chasers had made their point.

If you are worried that whoever eulogises you will exaggerate your qualities, or perhaps not do you justice, you might like to consider delivering the eulogy yourself. An elderly friend of mine who died, left a cassette that he had recorded of himself to be played at the funeral. His wife, for reasons best known to herself, ignored his final wishes and the contents of the cassette remained secret. I still wonder to this day what my friend had to say.

Eulogies delivered by family members are so common today that it seems odd to think that no one other than the priest spoke at either of my parents' funerals. But when my father died 30 years ago, and my mother five years later, that was how it was. Eulogies were for presidents and kings. Today I would expect that one of their three children, if not all, would have something to say about their parents. Yet, to be honest, if my partner were to die before me I cannot imagine being able to summon the requisite mix of courage and eloquence that it would take. And I do not believe that people should feel under pressure to speak if they are drowning in grief. But for some, the catharsis of delivering a eulogy might just help them swim to the shore.

Guests

Mark Wakely,
producer of the ABC Radio National program, 'By Design'.

Publications

Title: Sweet Sorrow: A Beginner's Guide to Death
Author: Mark Wakely
Publisher: Melbourne University Publishing
URL: http://www.mup.unimelb.edu.au/catalogue/0-522-85513-X.html

Music

CD title: Fauré (1893 version)
Track title: Pie Jesu
Artist: The Cambridge Singers with members of the City of London Sinfonia, conducted by John Rutter.
Composer: Gabriel Fauré
CD details: Collegium Records, COLCD 109

Presenter

Maria Zijlstra

Producer

Carey Dell

Story Researcher and Producer

Mark Wakely