Nationalistic Fervour

I was at the ballet the other night, yes, the ballet. It was the Canadian Ballet Company’s production of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Before the ballet started, the orchestra struck up a thundering version of Canada’s national anthem, O Canada. I knew the ballet had not yet started because I was aware that Tchaikovsky’s masterpiece did not begin with a drum roll. This rendition of O Canada most certainly did.

Almost without hesitation, the entire audience stood and broke into song. How riveting. I do not know the words to the national ditty, and even if I did, I doubt if I could have persuaded my lungs to pump them out. In fact, I was more inclined to sit down, but instead, I stood with the rest of them. When in Rome and all that—and better not to start a fight with the Canadian wife.