Watching Me Watching Them Watching You 
Andrew O’Hagan
I spent the first of my teenage years living in the grounds of an approved school, a place that faced onto a ruined castle said to have given a night’s shelter to Mary Queen of Scots. The escaping Queen was never there at all, but people preferred to think she had never left: every castle in Scotland seeks to have its part in Mary’s story, and her eyes were felt to burn through the night from a high window. Looking at the ruins, I always hoped that Mary would just speak some of her great last words from the darkness; I believed she was there and that something of us all was there in those eyes of hers that seemed to make a ritual of watching.
Subscribers to the print edition can log in to view the entire article. For information about subscribing to the London Review of Books click here. This article is also available for purchase online: buy this article.
Andrew O’Hagan’s book of essays, The Atlantic Ocean, will be out soon in paperback.
Other articles by this contributor:
Iraq, 2 May 2005 · Two Soldiers
The Nominee · With the Democrats
At the Design Museum · Peter Saville
Good Fibs · Truman Capote
Disgrace under Pressure · Andrew O’Hagan reads some lad mags
How to Survive Your Own Stupidity · Homage to Laurel and Hardy
In His Hot Head · Robert Louis Stevenson
A Car of One’s Own · Chariots of Desire