GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE
SEPTEMBER 11. 1998
Evenings Out
Quintessentially Quenti
Quentin Crisp speaks on his 89 years of life, first as a homosexual outcast then as a gay celebrity
by Dawn Leach
When I called Quentin Crisp at his home for an interview, I wasn't sure what to expect. Crisp has quite a reputation, and has expressed some very controversial opinions.
Some remarks he has made in the past seem downright disparaging of gay people. Crisp has previously made comments that most gay men are promiscuous, and that gay people aren't really living.
Crisp also has taken a stand in favor of genetic testing. He has said he supports efforts to isolate the gay gene—in order to abort gay fetuses. He has been quoted saying he wished he'd never been born this way.
I expected a bitter and grating old man with a quick wit and a sarcastic style. What I got was a soft-spoken, self-effacing man with delightfully polite manners. When I
"It has recently been explained to me that I'm a woman in a man's body. And this I accept. This fits my idea of myself perfectly."
told him that I was bringing a friend to attend his upcoming performance in Cleveland, he told me warmly that he thought this was "lovely."
"An audience of two!" he exclaimed. Assuredly, there will be many more than two people attending. At 89 years old, Quentin Crisp is a celebrity and an enigma. He lives in a small one-room apartment in Manhattan, and has his number published in the phone book. He talks to anyone who calls, and is even said to offer appointments to callers making death threats. He is known for unpredictability and for his witty style of storytelling.
He became well-known after his 1968 autobiography, The Naked Civil Servant, was made into a TV movie in 1978. The book was so popular, it was reissued in 1997.
Crisp played Queen Elizabeth I in the film Orlando. His latest book, Resident Alien, based on his diaries that appeared in the gay weekly New York Native, was published in 1997. He has appeared in television commercials for Calvin Klein's CKOne fragrance and for Reebok sportswear.
Crisp is currently touring with his oneman show, An Evening with Quentin Crisp. The show has no script and changes each time he performs. During the first half, he extemporizes from his life experiences, and after an intermission, he answers questions.
Dawn Leach: Have you seen the recent full-page newspaper ads from “ex-gay" groups that have been printed in several najer newspapers?
Quentin Crisp. No, I haven't. What do they say
They feature people who say they were “cured” of homosexuality and encourag others to join ex-gay organizations.
It seems very unlikely that anyone is ever
cured. Would I be a woman if I were cured, or a man? I can't conceive of what life would be like as a man because I've never lived it. But why would I want to be cured?
Of course, I live in Manhattan where you can be anything you like. I can be free. If I lived in a small town in America, I would be in trouble. I realize that.
Some of these people from "ex-gay" groups say they aren't cured of the desire, but they learn not to act on it.
That's different. I've learned not to act on my desire from the age of 40 onward.
It's not about liking the homosexual lifestyle, it's bearing it and not being alone. Now I'm older, I love being alone.
People are only lonely who don't know what to do with the time when they're alone.
Do you consider yourself to be gay? What label do you use?
Yes, because I don't know what else to call myself.
It has recently been explained to me that I'm a woman in a man's body. And this! accept. This fits my idea of myself perfectly.
How would you have felt if someone had suggested that 50 years ago?
I think I would have accepted it. When I was six, I was waltzing around my room in clothes I found in a box, saying "Today I'm a beautiful princess.”
When I was young, we thought all homosexuals were effeminate, because that's all we could see. When now we can see this is not all there is.
Of the things that you have done in your life, what do you look back at, and feel glad you did?
I came to America. Why?
Because I would have never known there was any happiness in the world if I hadn't come here.
I lived in England all those years and no one was my friend. When I got to America, I found everyone is my friend. Everyone talks to you in the street. They tell you the story of their lives, waiting for the traffic light to change.
There were two decisions I ever made on my own. One was to leave home when I was 22, and the other was to leave England when I was 72. Both were like stepping off a cliff into the dark.
What would you change if you could? That I would have come here sooner. But you see I couldn't have paid my fare. I earned £12 a week in my last job in England. It was plenty to live on, but here it would be $25. It would go nowhere. But I don't really regret anything, because I had no alternatives.
I did the jobs from which I didn't get the sack. I knew the people who could put up with the disgrace. I lived in the digs from which I was not evicted.
People used to say to me 'I'll meet you there,' meaning that they wouldn't have to walk through the streets with me. Which I accepted.
What do you most like to do?
I like to do nothing most. I like to sit in this room and do nothing.
Someone said you shouldn't say that, you should say you meditate. I said all right, I meditate, but actually I do nothing.
How long have you done An Evening with Quentin Crisp?
I did it first in England. I had a Hungarian agent in England. He had taken a room behind a public house [a bar], it was a theater of sorts.
There were [noontime] opening hours, they opened about 12:00 and closed at 2:00 [pm].
He said "I don't want to waste the lunch hours, I want you to perform."
I said "With what object?" and he said, "Just talk. You don't have to talk about the same thing each day." But of course you do,
or you stand on the stage and say, "What shall we talk about now?"
It was his idea that we should hand out little cards in the interval and they should ask questions. That way people don't have to be identified with their questions, which makes them bolder.
I read them out and I try to answer them. What do you think is the difference between being gay now and when you were young?
It's different socially. It's the same fundamentally.
Do you think people who identify as gay feel differently about it now?
I think they feel the same, but the world feels differently about it.
When I was young, certain people were rumored to be gay, and they added, “Not, of course, a practicing homosexual." I've never known a homosexual who wasn't a practicing homosexual.
People do admit to being gay now. People are always asking should I tell my mother. My answer is never tell your mother anything. But if you wish to, you can. I don't know what she's supposed to say. But they insist on telling their mothers, and that seems to work.
What about your mother?
My mother must have known there was something wrong with me. My parents weren't worried about my sins, they were worried about my unemployability. What was to be done with me?
I left my home in about 1931 or 2 when no one had anything, there was no work of any kind. There was no money. The sky was dark with millionaires throwing themselves out the windows.
I wrote books, drew book covers, taught tap dancing, modeled; none of these things did I know anything about, but what could I do?
It's said that artists adopt a flamboyant appearance, but it's also true that people with a funny appearance get stuck with the arts.
What can people expect when they come to see your show?
Really, nothing, because you see other people who do one-man shows who pretend to be someone else, but I go on the stage and I'm only myself and I only say what I think. So it's really a question of why they come there, and I can't answer. I have no idea. ♡
An Evening with Quentin Crisp runs September 17-19 at Cleveland Public Theatre, 6415 Detroit Avenue. For ticket information, call 216-631-2727.