RUM, SODOMY & THE LASH: Quentin on ‘60 Minutes: Australia’

HAND IN PAIN: “60 Minutes: Australia” screengrab.

One of the last times we hung out, Quentin Crisp told me about “the fiend” who tried to admit him to the hospital for his busted hand.

He fled the antiseptic torture chamber while filming a piece that aired on the Australian version of “60 Minutes.” 

Quentin didn’t stretch the truth one bit.

LEGENDARY: Quentin's first TV appearance where he admits to working as a male whore

PART ONE

Circa 1971: Crisp interviewed from his London flat, prior to the success of "The Naked Civil Servant" television play. At the beginning of this film, Quentin opns a pocket dairy to the date of Monday, Oct. 21, 1968, with the day's entry stating, "Mr. Mitchell, Filming."

PART TWO

Quentin admits to working as a male prostitute.

Crisp: On fops and wearing curly-brimmed boaters

Quentin: Not-so-Wilde about Oscar + Pissed-off priests + Wanting Joel Grey for ‘Naked Civil 2’ + And doing Texas

‘Go on, then. Go on report me / I’m English. Try and deport me.’ [Photo: Greg Gorman.]

By DANIEL  KUSNER

In October of 1993, Quentin Crisp and I finally shook hands. 

That autumn, Quentin attended Austin’s gay film-fest to herald the documentary “Resident Alien.” 

In his “New York Diaries,” Quentin described his three-day stay in Texas’ capital, which was spent stuffing his face and — from his Four Seasons’ window — watching campus oarsmen sculling down the Colorado River amidst a landscape of “mostly parched grass and crumbling rock.” 

During his Texas trip, I was invited to a dinner party to honor Quentin. My date was actress, MTV goddess and Charlie Girl-spokesmodel Karen Duffy, whom Quentin worked with on the film “Naked in New York.”

In May 1995, Vanity Fair published Christopher Hitchens’ article commemorating the 100th anniversary of “The Importance of Being Earnest.” 

On Valentine’s Day 1895, that opening night was both Oscar Wilde’s greatest triumph and ultimate disgrace: Thug-aristocrat the Marquess of Queensbury made an angry scene at the stage door — hoping to disrupt Wilde’s three-act masterpiece with a bouquet of vegetables. 

The play went off without a hitch. But the furious Queensbury departed, swearing vengeance on the man who was “corrupting” his son, Lord Alfred Douglas. 

So intense was Queensbury in his defamation campaign that Wilde was led into the greatest mistake of his life —  a criminal libel suit to clear himself of Queensbury’s “gay” smear (also known in the London homosexual underworld as the vice of being too “earnest.”)

During the trial, our rebellious playwright had the tables turned on him. Wilde was indicted not only for committing “the abominable crime of sodomy” but also for committing it with a member of the lower orders.

During Sir Edward Carson’s cross-examination, Wilde was trapped by a question about kissing a servant boy while trying to defend “The love that dare not speak its name.” 

Wilde was sentenced to two years hard labor.   

At the finish of Hitchens’ brilliant article, I remembered that Quentin Crisp was also cross-examined — when he was brought to trial on a charge of solicitation. Quentin successfully defended himself.

So on a weeknight after 8 p.m. — I had a whim. I phoned Quentin and recorded our discussion. 

•••

QUENTIN CRISP: Oh, yes?

KUSNER: Hey, Quentin. How are you doing? I’m calling from Texas.
Fine. I’m all right, thank you.

I hope I didn’t wake you or anything.
No.

Well, I’m just reading this article about Oscar Wilde in Vanity Fair. And I was wondering what you thought of Oscar.
Well, I think he was a dead loss.

A dead loss? How come?
He never came to terms with how sordid his life was.

How sordid was it?
Very. He had affairs with Eastenders, whom he only met in Braille. He never knew what they looked like. He met them in darkened rooms in Oxford. And they were procured for him by Lord Alfred Douglas. He was an absolute loss.

So he was taking advantage of young men from the lower classes?
Yes.

Hmmm. What do you think of the word “foppish?”
Well, it does describe... See, Americans misunderstand dandyish-ness for effeminacy. They’re not the same thing at all. It’s like the Archie Bunker thing: He thinks that all Englishmen must be queer because they add curly brims to their boaters and fold umbrellas and so on. And, of course, they’re very dandyish. But they’re not effeminate at all. They would be horrified if you told them they were.
And that, I think, is part of the trouble — that Mr. Wilde was, of course, deliberately on East Street and all that rubbish. He knew all that terrible verse. And it’s impossible to understand how he was bleating about love and dragging poor old Plato’s name into a case as sordid as that was.

Do people ever compare your wit to Oscar’s?
[In a pained voice] Yes, yes. I am told I am like Mr. Wilde. I couldn’t be less like him still. Yes, it’s true. And the way I speak is epigrammatic.

Do you think your historical lives run parallel: his court case and your legal battle?
Well, no. I mean, his was compounded by his trying to be funny in court. It was absolute nonsense.

Who do you want to play you in the sequel to your life story? Besides John Hurt?
Joel Grey.

Hey, have you seen the movie “Priest?”
Yes.

What did you think of it?
“Priest” was shocking. I don’t know quite why. I mean, it’s all right to have a priest who is gay. But whether one prelate says “piss off” to another is very unlikely, I think. And it does make it worse in a way that isn't necessary.

But was it a good movie?
It was quite a good movie.

When did you get a chance to see “Priest?”
I think I saw it on Monday of this week.

Just recently. So, are you working on anything else?
No, I’m behaving nicely.

Are you reviewing more movies now?
Yes, if I get the chance, I do movie reviews.

Are you going to review “Priest?”
Yes. Later on. I have to see a movie with my editor, and he then feeds me. And then we discover what I should say. And then I say it.

That’s great. Well, I was just reading this article and thought, “I'd like to call Quentin and ask him about it.” So I did. Hey, do you remember your recent trip to Austin?
Ah, yes.

I had dinner with you that evening. I was with a young actress in a backyard. Do you remember?
Oh, yes.

And I interviewed you for my magazine here.
That's right.

So come to Texas for the next film fest. 

I doubt whether I will, but I go where my fare is paid.

Well, I’ll put the word out for you. I’ll tell them to come and get you.
All right.

Well, good luck to you. Thanks for your time.
You’re very kind.

Good night.
Good night.

CELEBRITY SKIN: Francis Bean gives Quentin Crisp the ultimate stamp of approval

Check out the stunning new images of Francis Bean Cobain shot by Hedi Slimane. But look at this detail shot of her back, upper right. On Francis' right trapezius appears an illustration of Quentin Crisp.  

Now that Francis has inked Quentin onto herself, she's indeed too cool for words. 

Quentin Crisp promised that I could bunk up with him in NYC

In November, Butt magazine posted pix of Quentin Crisp’s NYC apartment.

The men who organize Crisp’s archives recreated the decor for the MIX festival, so attendees could hang out in Quentin’s one-room hovel.

In 1996, Quentin said I could live with him there.

(Well... he didn’t say I couldn’t live with him.)

Anyway, here are the posh digs, below, of what could have been if I shared an address with Quentin.

•••

KUSNER: You told me that in order to rule the world, that I needed to move to Manhattan.
CRISP: Yes. That’s right.

When I do, can I come stay at your apartment?
Very well. But it’ll be too small. I’ve only got one bed and one chair.

Do you think smaller living spaces are kept clean — like how a dog will keep its kennel clean?
Well, I don’t think you’ll be clean here. This place hasn’t been cleaned in 15 years.

Never? You don’t even wash the sink out with, like, Comet cleanser or anything?
Oh, no.

 

A touch of Grey Gardens in the Bowery. [Photos: Jan Wandrag.]

Quentin’s letter describes New York’s friendliness, “Where bus drivers shake your hand.” [Photo: Jan Wandrag.]

SHELF LIFE: Paperback volumes by Harper Lee and J.D. Salinger, and a photo with Sylvia Miles. [Photo: Jan Wandrag.]

What a dump! [Photo: Jan Wandrag.]

Vaseline, calamine lotion, hairpins, blush brushes, hairspray, shoe polish and scarves. [Photo: Jan Wandrag.]

REMEMBERING QUENTIN: Website preserves memory of author’s death

Long live the queen

The late Quentin Crisp’s aphorisms now safeguarded for the digital age in perpetuity

ALL HAT: Quentin at Dallas’ McKinney Avenue Contemporary, Dec. 11, 1998. [Photo: Kusner.]

By DANIEL KUSNER | Nov. 17, 2000

Tuesday marks the one-year anniversary of Quentin Crisp’s death. 

The eccentric writer-performer-actor died at the age of 90 after collapsing at a private residence while on a speaking tour in Britain. 

I remember when I first heard about his extinction. My roommate woke me up to tell me the news. After he told me, I did what Quentin would’ve wanted — I went back to sleep.

Crisp was the first person I ever interviewed.

In his autobiography, “The Naked Civil Servant,” he revealed that he always kept his phone number listed.

He practically begged... nay, implored readers to give him a ring whenever they wished. And I did — on many occasions.

Years ago, I was having a hateful dispute with a useless, former manager. So I phoned Quentin and asked if it was worth getting angry about. 

He told me, “Anger only begets anger. It’s an unalterable law. You just annoy the world by flying into a rage.” 

His advice was eternally profound and very businesslike in its practicality. I kept my cool. And a few months later, my inept supervisor was fired. 

I can honestly say that I once saved Quentin Crisp’s life. 

Whenever I visited New York, I’d call him up to see if he wanted to catch a movie. 

In the summer of 1995, we saw Larry Clark’s brutally realistic film “Kids.” 

On our way to the theater, Quentin said he only agreed to go with me to get out of the oppressive summer heat.

QUENTIN & ME: Outside Manhattan’s Angelika after seeing “Kids.” [Photo: Kirsten Showell.]

He needed to send off a batch of letters. 

In search of a mailbox, Quentin ignored looking both ways before brazenly jaywalking through the East Village’s narrow lanes.

I raced after Quentin, guarding him from impatient and pissed-off drivers who nearly ran him down.

When I spotted a U.S. postbox emblem across another street, Quentin looked me dead in the eye and said, “It looks like we’ll have to risk our lives again.”

Then he raced back into traffic. I wanted to tackle him but was too thrilled with laughter.

After the film, Crisp declared his hatred for children and said “Kids” was the filthiest movie he had ever seen.

Two years later, he would lose many admirers when he said the world would be a better place without homosexuals — that a fetus should be aborted if predisposed-gayness was to be genetically detected.

On the day of Princess Di’s funeral, I phoned Crisp to ask his opinion of Diana Spencer.

“She was absolute trash,” he roared. “She was Lady Diana before she was Princess Diana — she knew the racket. She knew that royal marriages have nothing to do with love. They are mergers.”

In that conversation, Crisp also lent his opinion about any comparisons between the Princess and Jackie Kennedy.

“Now the English think they have a corner on good behavior. But if they compare Princess Diana’s behavior with Mrs. Kennedy’s...? Oh, how wonderful Mrs. Kennedy was,” Crisp gleefully cried. “And she never said a word. President Kennedy was not only unfaithful, he was a born lecher. If you couldn’t see him for 10 minutes in your office, he ravished your secretary on her desk.”

“But Princess Diana got what she deserved,” he continued. “She was running around with a trashy Arab. She was part of the royal family of England. Didn’t she know any better than that?”

After discussing Princess Diana’s funeral, I asked Crisp about his own funereal plans.

“I didn’t know that you could put in your will that you wouldn’t have a funeral service. But you can. Of course, my accountant warns me that my will be read out long after I’ve been buried. So I have to tell everybody that I don’t want a funeral service. Just put me in one of those plastic bags and throw me in the dustbin.”

HEAR HIS ACCENT WHEN HE TALKS: Crisp at Dallas’ McKinney Avenue Contemporary.

Upon the anniversary of his death, a new website, The Quentin Crisp Archives, has been launched to preserve his memory. 

In my first interview, Quentin I asked him how he wanted to be remembered.

“People who ask how you want to be remembered think they will look down from a cloud and count the people at their funeral. Well, I’ve got news for them,” he growled. “They’ll be dead. It doesn’t matter how you’re remembered — you’re dead.” 

BIG D RECEPTION: Quentin in Dallas at an event hosted by my newspaper.

Y2K-READY: Crisp heads to Big D just before his last trip around the sun.

CLIP LINK

Everyone — including Warhol — loves QUENTIN CRISP

SUMMER ’95: Quentin and Yours Truly on our way to see ‘Kids.’ [Photo: Kirsten Showell.]

Monday, December 9, 1996

Phoned Quentin Crisp to invite him to a movie.

Woody Allen’s “Everyone Says I Love You” was playing at the Olympia Theatre on Broadway at 44th Street for a one-week award-season run (earning a Golden Globe nom for Best Motion Picture Musical or Comedy).

Quentin answered the phone while moaning in pain, “Owwww, owww! Buggers! Owww….” 

He injured his hand while trying to break a fall.

Quentin whimpered as he reached for his planner, which he calls, “the sacred book.” 

He selected Wednesday and talked about bus routes. I said I’d splurge for a cab. 

Quentin gave me his Bowery address: 46 East Third St.

I was to call from the corner payphone at Second Avenue and meet him on the sidewalk. 

Quentin Crisp at the Barnes & Noble café, Dec. 11, 1996. [Photo: Kusner.]

Wednesday, December 11, 1996

Cruddy day. Wet, cloudy and 40 degrees. Hit the gym. Bought two General Nutrition Center protein bars, $2.50.

 

Walked to the Bowery and called Quentin from the corner phone, 25¢. 

His swollen hand was atrocious. 

SWOL: Quentin’s inflamed hand fondles the RuPaul Spread magazine cover. [Photo: Kusner.]

I helped Quentin put on his coat. And after crying in pain, he insisted that he was fine. 

He regaled me with a story about a previous attempt to treat his injury. 

While being interviewed by the Australian version of “60 Minutes,” a lady acquaintance — whom Quentin called “the fiend” — overstepped her concern.

She called 911. And the ambulance “kidnapped” Quentin.

The 88-year-old dreads hospitals and thinks nurses are especially creepy. 

In a prophesying voice, Crisp whispered to me, “Once you go into a hospital, you never come out alive.”

He explained the ambulance took him against his will with “60 Minutes” following in a limo. 

Inside the ER, he saw a chance for a quick exit and fled — with “the fiend” and assorted medical personnel chasing after. 

He spotted the Australian crew and escaped in their limo. 

•••

While I exited our cab, ($17) I asked the driver for a receipt. 

Quentin leered at me and asked, “Why do you need a receipt?” 

I explained, “I don’t. I just like to track how I spend money.”

Quentin rolled his eyes. 

He whined while climbing out of the cab.

Woody Allen matinée: $13.50: $8.50 for me; $5 senior admission. 

Before the movie, we ducked inside Barnes & Noble for coffee, $3.50. 

The Olympia was almost sold out. So we sat in the very front row. 

Afterward, I apologized my ass off to Quentin: Sitting that close was hell on my neck and exhausted my eyes. 

I wish we’d seen “Breaking the Waves” together instead.

•••

Sunday, January 5, 1997

KUSNER: Howdy, Quentin. This is Dan Kusner. We saw Woody Allen’s “Everyone Says I Love You” together.

CRISP: Oh, yes.

How’re you doing? 

I’m fine. Thank you.

Did you have a good birthday? 

Yes, I did.

Your big day is on Dec. 25. What’d you do? 

On Christmas Day, I went to some people’s apartment on Fourth Street, because it was nice and near.
But on the day before, I had a party in Chez Suzette, which is a rather posh restaurant on Restaurant Row on 46th Street. It was very nice.

Who went to your party? 

Almost everyone. 

Any big celebrities? 

No. Mr. Bay— who arranged it — asked all sorts of celebrities. But they didn’t come, of course. 

How’s your hand? 

It’s no better. But it’s all right when I don’t use it.

Are you in any pain? 

Not when I don’t use it. Just lying about ... it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Sill gonna cut it off? 

Well, I might have to because it’s so useless.

Have you seen a doctor? 

No.

Not going to step foot into a hospital, are you? 

Eek! Never.

•••

Can I ask you a bunch of questions? 

Yes.

Can you define “family values?” 

Family values are a complete waste of time. Everything that goes wrong in one’s life is the result of their family.

How was your relationship with your father? 

Terrible. 

Did he name you Quentin? 

No. That was my own name. My birth name was Denis. 

Do you know who you were named after? 

I don’t think I was named after anybody.

Your real name is Denis? 

Yes.

Denis Crisp? 

No, Denis Pratt. You can imagine how quick I was to get rid of that.

What was the inspiration of the invented name Quentin Crisp? 

It was given to me by various people.

How young were you when you became Quentin Crisp? 

About 25 or 26.

When was the first time you came to America? 

In 1977. I was 62.

And you just celebrated your 88th birthday, huh? 

Yes.

PORTRAIT OF QUENTIN CRISP: 1940 — age, 32. [Photo: Agnus McBean.]

You told me that in order to rule the world, that I needed to move to Manhattan. 

Yes. That’s right. 

When I do, can I come stay at your apartment? 

Very well. But it’ll be too small. I’ve only got one bed and one chair.

CRISP AND CLEAN: Quentin inside his uncleanly lair. [Photo: Facebook.]

Do you think smaller living spaces are kept cleaner — like how a dog will crap anywhere but always keeps its kennel clean? 

Well, I don’t think you’ll be clean here.
This place hasn’t been cleaned in 15 years. 

You don’t even wash the sink out with, like, Comet cleanser or anything? 

Oh, no. Never.

•••

Do you think it’s better for artists to be motivated by poverty to produce their work? 

Well, that was the theory. But I don’t think it works. I think if you’re too poor, you’re hopeless. 

Do you have any financial advice for me? 

Money is for saving, not for spending.

Do you ever give money to poor people on the streets? 

Only quarters. Not real money

•••

Have you ever heard of the British singer named Morrissey? 

No.

Will you publish any more books? 

I don’t think so. The paper for which I worked [The New York Native] has folded. So I can’t produce any more diaries.

Are your collected diaries going to be published? 

They’re published — in England. 

Currently? 

Yes.

Quentin mentioned me in his January ’97 diary.

When was the last time you kissed someone? 

Kissed someone?

Yeah, like, really planted a juicy wet one a hot dude. 

I don’t think I’ve ever kissed anybody.

You’ve never kissed ... anyone? 

I don’t think so.

Why? 

Well, kissing is not a good idea.

You’re insane. Kissing hot dudes is the best. 

Well, I’m afraid Mr. Bogart and Miss Bergman were unreliable authorities — that a kiss was never just a kiss.

•••

During our recent rendezvous, you explained to me that you think AIDS will end up being just a fad. 

Yes, it will.
When I first got here everyone had amoebic dysentery. It was a great scare. Everyone was going to die of it. 

When that faded, everybody had hepatitis. Then that passed. 

Now they have AIDS. It too will pass.

Is amebic dysentery sexually transmitted? 

I don’t know. But everybody had it.

•••

What did you think of the movie “Everyone Says I Love You?” 

I liked it. I thought it was very funny.

What did you think of Goldie Hawn? 

She’s good. She’s very lively. I like her.

Did you see “Evita?” 

Yes. I saw “Evita.”

What did you think of it? 

It’s a bit monotonous. Because it becomes a political film. But Madonna’s very good. She looks exactly like Eva Perón. 

What did you think of “Showgirls?” 

I liked Showgirls. I don’t know why everyone was against it. 

What’d you like about it? 

The fact that it was slick. That it had a story. That it moved fast.

Have you seen the movie “Ridicule?” 

No.

Have you heard about it? 

No. 

Oh, Quentin, it’s good. It’s set in Versailles during Louis XVI. It demonstrates how success is measured through wit. The clever dialogue is snappy. It’s about eviscerating and mocking others in public. 

Hmmmmph.

Have you seen “Shine?”

No.

Have you heard about it? 

Yes.

Have you heard about “Breaking the Waves?” 

I’ve seen “Breaking the Waves.”

What’d you think? 

It’s quite nice but very kinky.

Do you ever rent movies? 

Never.

What’s your opinion of the new “Romeo + Juliet” movie? 

I haven’t seen it. But I think it’s a great mistake.

How come? 

Well, when you put teenagers into Shakespeare — the fact that they’re wearing torn jeans and saying all that elaborate poetry is just crazy.

You don’t find teenagers very poetic, do you? 

No. I find them wretched.

We talked about the movie “I Shot Andy Warhol.” I asked you about meeting Warhol. You said whenever you saw Warhol out, you’d try to engage him into conversations. But you couldn’t get much out of him, right? 

Nothing.

I found the passage in his diaries where Warhol wrote about you.  Can I read it to you? 

Oh, yes!

^^ Warhol Diary — last paragraph, Oct. 2, 1986.

Did you like it?

Lovely.

What did you think of Letterman? 

Well, he’s just like that.

Do you think he’s an ass? 

Well, as you know, Miss Shirley MacLaine told him that he was an asshole. And he is.

Would you ever go on his show again? 

Not if I could avoid it.

You believe homophobia is natural?

Yes. Homosexuality is strange. It’s unusual. It’s not normal. I think it’s natural that people are afraid of it and don’t like it.

Do you think you’ll be considered a significant historical figure? 

No.

Maybe a historically significant gay figure? 

I don’t think so.

What about in the legal sense? When you successfully defended yourself in court? 

Not really.

I live in Texas. And the only copies of “The Naked Civil Servant” that are owned by the University of Texas at Austin are placed in the school’s very posh law library. Your case has merit — especially in consideration of civil rights. Weren’t you arrested and harassed by the police for being eccentric because they didn’t like that you refused to present yourself as a man?

I was accused of soliciting. And I said that I didn’t do it.

Well, Quentin, I hope your hand feels better. 

Thank you.

I’ll be in touch with you again soon. 

Lovely.

You take care. 

I will.