‘Spare’ Book Review: Meghan Markle Is The Racist That Prince Harry Was Looking For

Prince Harry’s new book “Spare” On Tuesday, the following information was made public: ‘spare’ our DailyWire+  audience from having to read it, here’s a book review.

Before “Spare,” Many saw the Royal Family as impossible and shrouded by secrecy. This, in turn, inspired wonderment and awe. Prince Harry then opened his mouth.

This book contains elements that are not as outrageous as Kim Kardashian’s internet posts.

It is hard to say that I hated it. But, to really understand why the book is so hateful, I decided to take out some of my favorite (or least favorite?) books. These are excerpts from the book, and I’ll share my reaction to his incessant whining. 

Here are the worst moments Prince Harry and Meghan committed to their pettiness. “Spare.”

Spoiler upfront: The book is about an over-privileged brat who sold out his family for millions and his racist wife — who only decided to be black when she thought it could benefit her. 

Harry’s Annoying Grievance With His Older Brother … A Theme Throughout 

EXCERPT 1 “All at once something shifted inside of me. I looked at Willy, really looked at him, maybe for the first time since we were boys. I took it all in: his familiar scowl, which had always been his default in dealings with me; his alarming baldness, more advanced than my own; his famous resemblance to Mummy, which was fading with time. With age. In some ways, he was my mirror, in some ways he was my opposite. My beloved brother, my arch nemesis, how had that happened?” 

I’m sorry … Prince William’s ‘alarming baldness?’ What? He put this in a book because it’s petty and small. 

The following information will be of interest to readers ‘petty and small’ This is the essence of this book 

Harry complains about his childhood bedroom

EXCERPT 2 “Balmoral had fifty bedrooms, one of which had been divided for me and Willy. Adults called it the nursery. Willy had the larger half, with a double bed, a good-sized basin, a cupboard with mirrored doors, a beautiful window looking down on the courtyard, the fountain, the bronze statue of a roe deer buck. My half of the room was far smaller, less luxurious. I never asked why. I didn’t care. But I also didn’t need to ask. Two years older than me, Willy was the Heir, whereas I was the Spare.”

What’s the deal? This is a common phenomenon for children all over the globe who are blessed enough to have a bedroom. 

Someone gets the best half of a room when you divide it. This is usually the older sibling. They are usually the ones who get first dibs. Harry, this is not an uncommon occurrence. This happens in every family with a home and multiple rooms.

My sisters and me shared a room. My brother was the only one with his own room. Were we the spares? Should I write about my life to reflect on that? No. 

Harry Continues Complaining…Is He Making This Up As He Goes?

EXCERPT 3 “I was brought into the world in case something happened to Willy. I was summoned to provide backup, distraction, diversion and, if necessary, a spare part. Kidney, perhaps. Blood transfusion. Speck of bone marrow.  This was all made explicitly clear to me from the start of life’s journey and regularly reinforced thereafter.”

Is it possible for anyone to believe that people made it very clear to him that they were here for a reason? “speck of bone marrow?”

Is he able to tell what “explicit” means? This sounds like such a ridiculous lie — but I guess, Harry expects readers to just go with it because he needs you to know that the very mundane things he experienced as a younger brother are so deep.

Harry Really Doesn’t Understand How Older Siblings Work

EXCERPT 4, “Willy told me to pretend I didn’t know him.

What?

You don’t know me, Harold. And I don’t know you.

For the last two years, he explained, Eton had been his sanctuary. No kid brother tagging along, pestering him with questions, pushing up on his social circle. He was forging his own life, and he wasn’t willing to give that up.

…But for Willy it was pure agony to wear the same blazer, the same tight shorts, as me. And now, to attend the same school, was pure murder.

I told him not to worry. I’ll forget I ever knew you.”

This just sounds like a normal family with teens angst and quarrels that occur to siblings who are close in age. 

My sister and I attended the same school. At times, we didn’t want to hang with each other. It was embarrassing for us to wear the same clothes. This sort of thing is even so common that it’s a recurring theme in TV sitcoms and movies because it is so relatable.

Come to think of it, God forbid my sisters wrote a book about their experience — then