The Naked Civil Servant

When these people came to me and said,

"We should like to make a film of your life,"

I said, "Yes, do. Films are fantasies.

"Films are magical illusions.

"You can make my life a fantasy, as I have tried, but failed to make it."

But then they said, "We want the film to be real.

"You know, real life."

So I said, "Any film, even the worst, is at least better than real life."

Then they said, "Though, of course, we should have to have an actor to play you."

I said, "I have spent 66 years on this Earth,

"painfully attempting to play the part of Quentin Crisp.

"L have not succeeded.

"Yes, of course you must have an actor to play me.

"He will do it far better than I have done."

And then they said, "We shall want to show you when you were young."

And I said, "If I might suggest one image for your film..."

Quentin! Breakfast!

Do you intend to spend your entire life admiring yourself?

If I possibly can.

Are you keen on this girl, then, Quentin?

- Keen? - Yes.

Good God, no! She's a friend.

I mean, friendship exists. I don't think anything else does.

I think all this thing between men and women is something invented by novelists.

- Love? - Because that's what people want to believe.

Have you ever felt love? Honestly?

- I haven't. - Your son's not one of those, is he, Hilda?

- One of what? - One of those who don't love women.

That's just my point. I don't think anyone does.

- I've been over him. Perfectly normal. - It's just that he's so terribly listless.

What he wants is a good boot up the bottom.

- No. - If you ask my advice,

what he needs is a practical lesson in the facts of life.

I had already discovered for myself one fact of life,

the only fact I've ever fully understood.

I have a message for those who, like me, inhabit a world of make-believe.

- What did you do this morning? - A poster.

- What of'? - Cows Ashes of Roses.

I always make my posters madly exotic, even if it's only to annoy Mr Barker.

Did it?

Crisp, why do you suppose you are an art student'?

And you said?

Because it is the last door through which

my parents think they can push me into the outer world.

The outer world is a club I do not wish to join.

Hello, ducky!

Hello, there.

And then I stumbled on the very truth that was just what the doctor had ordered.

Could l... trouble you for a light?

Oh...

Thank you... so much.

'Dilly's dead tonight, isn't it? Been here an hour now, not a thing.

Except two policemen, disguised as human beings.

Well, you're not going to be much good to me, now, are you?

No.

Oh, well... c'est la vie, I suppose.

- Shall we have a cup of coffee? - Yes.

I learned that I was not the only one in the world.

No roughs in tonight, thank heavens. They get on my tits.

- Hello, girls. - Hello.

- May I introduce Quentin? - Quentin? That's something new.

Gloria Swanson, and hasn't she got a nerve?

How do you do?

- And Bermondsey Liz. - How do you do?

How do you do?

Albert, ducky, two of your dreadful coffees.

Two coffees. Right.

- Any luck tonight? - Three, so far.

- Must be foggy in Dean Street. - Ooh, you are a bitch. Really!

Trust me, I got a thrasher. My dear!

- Funny how they find you. - Ooh!

- Are you on the game? - I...

- Am l...? - Well, if you don't know what it means,

you can't be.

Is he, urn... so?

Oh, he's so, all right.

Like to try it?

Thank you.

So I learned yet another fact of life.

Quentin! Breakfast!

- Morning. - Mm.

Don't put so much butter on your toast.

So sorry.

Well, are you going out to look for a job?

I suppose I might.

Your trouble is you look like a male whore.

It was the first acknowledgment

my father had ever made of any part of my problem.

My heart throbbed with gratitude.

- Well, I'm off, then. - Father?

- Mm? - I shall be leaving here soon.

And I promise you faithfully that I shall try not to come back.

Sorry, darling, he wants someone more my age.

- And what's that? - 18.

- Ooh! - You're 21 if you're a day.

- You're past it now. - No, honestly.

Ooh, that hurt.

- How do you know? It's only a wig. - It's not, it's all my own.

Wait till they touch you with hair like that.

- You'd get years, dear. You'd get years! - I am 18 last March.

Oooh! - All right...

Come on, out, the lot of you. Out.

- Oh, dear, aren't we behaving? - Two hours here and one cup of coffee!

What do you think this is, a four-course banquet?

Now, come on. Either you order again or out.

Oh, well, I suppose we'd better go where we're wanted.

The great thing about following an obvious homosexual

is that you can't possibly be wrong.

He will certainly do whatever you want,

and he will certainly not run screaming to the police.

Courtship in such cases consists of the words...

How much?

- Seven and six. - All right.

And the only words of tenderness ever uttered to me...

This'll do.

They give me a lot. I give them very little.

Is it very little?

The briefest possible moment. They're much too scared of the police.

And seven and six. Sometimes ten shillings.

Once or twice, an actual pound note.

What do you really give them, these men?

I give them the opportunity to vent their contempt on other people.

- To defile someone else. - Yes.

I suppose it's logical. I abuse them, they defile me.

I am an effeminate homosexual.

I want to win the admiration,

I want to be found desirable by a great, dark man.

- Yes. - But what proof have I that I'm desired?

No great, dark man is going to come up to me and say, "Quentin, I adore you.

"Your eyes are like stars and your lips are like roses."

- No. - A ten-shilling note is proof.

A proof I understand.

I think that everything that happens to us is our fault.

But that's not our fault.

Just a minute.

Advice to my friends.

- We've been watching you. - Oh, yes?

May we ask what you're doing in this street?

I'm on my way to the Black Cat Cafe to have a light supper with friends.

- Where are you from? - High Wycombe.

That's a long way to come to the Black Cat, isn't it?

Oh, Mr Bremner of the Black Cat serves a very good light supper.

High Wycombe, eh?

I'd be delighted to give you the address. My father's a solicitor.

- Does he know you're a pansy? - A dirty, stinking little pansy?

You're a pansy, aren't you?

Pansy? What's that, apart from being a flower?

- Listen, can I give you a word of advice? - Yes, Constable.

The only men who would go with young chaps like you...

Yes, Constable?

Are men suffering from what is known as venereal disease.

- You know what that is, do you? - I've heard of it, Constable.

Because they would be ashamed to give it to a woman.

They say they're trying to stop it.

They should see what I've seen at reform school.

- I bet you reformed a lot of boys. - I certainly did.

Why can't they leave us alone? Do we do any harm?

We provide a very special public service.

I think it's simply because they don't understand.

And people hate what they don't understand.

- The roughs are coming! - Oh, my gawd!

- Quick! - Come on, out.

- Hello, girls. - You're not leaving, are yer?

- We come here special to see yer. - Now look, I don't want no trouble.

We ain't making any trouble.

- We come for a cup of tea, didn't we? - Yeah.

They're gonna buy us a cup of tea.

You're gonna buy us a cup of tea, in't yer?

Ain't yer... darlin'?

I thought it was for the gentlemen to buy the drinks.

Vvah-hey-hey!

Well, we're not gentlemen, see? We come from Hoxton.

I thought even in Hoxton they knew how to treat a lady.

Whoooh! - You're pretty, in't yer?

- Eh? - Yes, I am.

- Give us your hand, then. - What for?

I want to hold your hand.

Ah... what a little one, eh?

- Lovely little hand! - Yes.

I'd like to squeeze it.

Do you like that? You like it, don't yer?

Do you love me?

I said, don't you love me?

- Are you gonna buy me a cup of tea? - I...

'Ere, he's gonna buy me a cup of tea.

All right, then, whisper in me ear. Tell me you love me.

Why don't you sod off back to Hoxton before they find out you're queer?

You...!

Well, I seemed to have hit on a home truth.

And of course...

On a relatively quiet night in the Black Cat,

I met Thumbnails.

As a result, at the age of 22, in 1930,

I kept my promise to my father.

I left home. Forever.

What did you say his name was?

Thumbnails.

I just call him Thumbnails. They are appalling.

- Dirty? - No.

The wrong shape.