By taking a vow of marriage, you make a useless self-sacrifice. You’re making a public gesture of throwing your life away. I saw a film the other day in which a woman seized the lapels of a man’s coat and said, “Do you really love me?” And he replied, “If I say yes, what does it mean?” What does it mean? How do you prove that you love someone? Even to yourself. In reality, when you get to the end of your life, if they are still there, you only know that they didn’t find anyone better. It doesn’t mean to say they weren’t looking. It doesn’t even mean that you were the love of their life. You just happened to spend the most time with them.

  So, marriage is a dead loss. It’s a mistake. I suspect it was invented by the troubadours[37]. They would find a fair lady to whom they had never spoken. She leaned out of a tower window and waved her scarf. And they fought battles in which the issue was of no account to them. They did it for her sake. Why? Who the hell is she? It’s absolute nonsense. It’s all a delusion. And now, of course, that is over, but the vestiges of it remain.

  It’s tragic to observe how husbands and wives interact. There are some men who will say to their wives, “What are you looking at? Why are you looking over there?” And the wife is just looking around, not necessarily with intent. But they will argue, which is nonsensical, because by being jealous he is paying her a compliment. Of course, some women get wise to this. There used to be women who deliberately created situations in which they were seen with other people by their husbands, and tried to give the appearance that an affair was either pending or actually happening. I think that’s playing with fire. Deliberately provoking jealousy seems like a great idea up until the point when the husband flies into an ungovernable rage.

  While I’m on the subject, I’m always dumbfounded why people confuse jealousy and envy. Men will say, “He doesn’t like me because of the job I’ve got. He’s jealous.” In truth they are envious. Envy is a preoccupation with what you haven’t got and wish you had. Jealousy is a desire to keep what you have.

  The way to deal with jealousy, if it’s becoming problematic, is by calming it. By reassuring the jealous party that you are theirs or that there is no danger of you being whisked away by someone else. Even if that’s what you secretly want.

  Back to marriage. At the end of the day, marriage consumes an individual like fire. Married couples are individuals who have surrendered their own identities and dreams in return for fulfilling a preordained destiny that in reality was, at best, missold and, at worst, a fraud.

  The truest love is self-love. And it is the only love that you can know with certainty is reciprocated.

  14. DRAG QUEENS and PERFORMERS

  Though the saying goes ‘imitation is the sincerest form of flattery’, I think it’s important to note that flattery is very different from giving a compliment. Flattery is superficial. A true compliment is heartfelt.

  Anyway, no one’s ever tried to be like me, I’m happy to say, so I’ve never been flattered in that way. And since I think you should have a style which precludes imitation, my lack of imitators could mean that I’ve been successful in this effort.

  The stars of the past were, I think, encouraged to foster their idiosyncrasies to become more like themselves. And, of course, the imitators settled on them because they became so easy to imitate. Mae West and Bette Davis being just two examples. Nowadays you have actresses who cannot be imitated because they’re so different from film to film. They are actually allowed to act, which is probably a win for entertainment.

  However I don’t think people should assume that you are making fun of somebody just because you are imitating them. That seems to me very sad and quite mistaken. People imitate others because they like them. It would take a very strange individual to imitate someone they didn’t like, because surely they would hate themselves all the time they were doing it.

  I do think imitators can be bitchy however, and I don’t think that’s alright. I don’t think you should imitate people so as to exaggerate their mannerisms into absurdity, but then I don’t approve of bitchiness of any kind, so why should I approve of that?

  I don’t think I’ve ever been bitchy. I’ve tried not to be. I can’t say I haven’t been, but since I despise it in other people, I’ve tried my best to expunge it from my own actions. Bitchiness is merely to make a joke at someone else’s expense, and of course the only people who laugh at those are whomever isn’t offended.

  Charles Pierce[38] was an imitator and I liked him because he always acknowledged me if I was in the audience. He imitated various people but he was stuck with the people of his own generation. He imitated Tallulah Bankhead, but now no one can remember who Tallulah Bankhead was. That put him in a very difficult position, but I liked his shows.

  And I do love Joey Arias[39]. Joey Arias is everywhere! Whenever I go to a place, he’s always there. And when he came to interview me for a film made by a German director, he came disguised as himself and he looked so different that I wouldn’t have known him had he not introduced himself to me. He was a nice-looking, blond young man, with a white face, a mulberry-colored mouth and a black wig. All that added on to make him a mask. Not merely made-up, but an actual mask, almost. And why he does that, I don’t know, but I should think it’s grown on him. At first, he was just made up, and then he was more made-up, and then he was made-up so much that he was Joey Arias. He’s wonderful.

  I don’t think Mr. Arias could portray me in a movie however, but he could if he appeared as himself. The thing is, I’ve never done drag. I’ve only once worn women’s clothes and that wasn’t in order to appear as a drag queen, it was to appear as a woman, which is different. When you want to wear drag, you want to make fun of women. I wanted to be a woman, which is altogether different.

  Boy George[40] is something of an imitator. I admire Boy George because he was only about twenty-two when he was asked all the difficult questions. He was asked whether he preferred the company of men or women, and he said, “I like to be with the people who like to be with me.” That, of course, is what most people feel. I can’t imagine anyone looking at their life and saying, “I don’t know enough women. I must find some acceptable women.” Instead you end up knowing the people who turn up and never leave. Hopefully because they like spending time with you.

  When I worked for him, Mr. George was fine. He arrived with his merry men in the apartment where I was to speak certain words at the beginning of one of his records. He had written them out large so that I could sit there and read them. And he was very business-like. He came, he told me what to do, and he left. He knows just what he wants. And Boy George has a style that’s so uniquely his, like my own is to me.

  There is a man named Mr. Bloolips, who is also called Mr. Bourne[41], and he is going to play the part of me in some show in England. He’s going to do a performance in which he imitates me. I think his imitation of me is the whole show. It’s to be done in Shepherd’s Bush, which is a terrible outpost of London, near Hammersmith. Whether people will go, I shall hear later, but I have no idea what it’s like. He will probably send me what the press has said about him. He’s very nice. Mr. Bourne teaches at the Old Vic School. That his students take him seriously surprises me, because they must know he takes his camp act all over the world.

  Speaking of which, I should talk about my experience on gay cruises, which is not to be confused with gay cruising. I have been on four such cruises, in fact, and they were all very nice.

  When I boarded my first I had to wonder if all of the ship’s crew had been told in advance what kind of cruise it was. I mention this because there are only three types of worker aboard a cruise ship: there are the people who make the ship go, whom you never see and who are all oriental; there are those who tidy up the cabins and serve the meals, who are all typically black; and then there’s a ‘show’ crew of people who wander about the deck dressed in enamel-like uniforms covered with as much gold braid as one can safely stitch onto a single garment. The latter group stand around grandly and occasionally look out to sea and make pronouncements. They don’t actually do a thing. They are always Greek.

  On each of my cruises, the ship’s guests have all been exclusively gay Americans. I suppose I was notionally part of the entertainment. On one of the cruises, Wayland Flowers and Madame were also part of the entertainment troop. I didn’t get to see his act, unfortunately. I got too tired and went to bed that night, which is a pity because I am told he was very good. I’m told he made a hat like mine and compelled Madame to wear it. I would certainly have liked to have seen that. He certainly made a name for himself, which is a difficult thing for a ventriloquist to do because it’s an act that doesn’t lend itself to television. It’s a live spectacle best seen in clubs or at the theater.

  We also had entertainment from Rita Moreno[42], who was wonderful. Then there was a singing quartet whose stage name I can’t remember. My contribution was to have tea with the guests and tell them how to be happy. On one such occasion a group of us were having tea and I had begun answering people’s questions. Ms. Moreno then said, “I have a question. Is there anything you think that isn’t a mistake?” And I replied loudly, “You are not a mistake!” And everybody cheered and clapped.

  I did enjoy going on gay cruises, but I don't do them anymore as it’s really an upheaval. We never went on the high seas, only on the middle seas. We once went to the Cayman Islands, where they tried to prevent us getting off when they realized we were a gay cruise. Then we went on to Nassau, the capital of The Bahamas. Then to Ocho Rios, which is the most depressing place ever. It’s on the northern coast of Jamaica, I think, and there is no beach. Or not one that I saw, anyway. Instead, there is a flat mud space between the water and the jungle. And on that flat space there are huts with corrugated iron rooms, where people sit outside posing like a nation of Madame Butterflies. They wait for the ships, and when the ships come in they come down to the water’s edge to sell you anything and everything, including themselves.

  When we made landfall at Ocho Rios, I was attached to two women who were great fun. We hired a car and went throughout the length and breadth of the land, all of which was mud or jungle and then we came back. I found out that the two women I traveled with had become rich by living in various places in Florida. They would buy a property, posh it up and resell it for a great profit. They were the Donald Trumps of Florida! It’s a strange way of earning a living, but it made them rich.

  One of the ladies was called Lee and each morning aboard the cruise ship, she would come into the dining room and say, “Hi, everybody.”

  And everybody would say, “Hi, Lee!” back. This became the ritual sound not only at breakfast but also at lunch, tea, and supper. She was a remarkable woman because she wore a different evening dress every day. She must have traveled with an entire set of suitcases.

  15. HOMOSEXUALS

  I remember once doing a performance of my one-man show in Boston. We had reached the question-and-answer section and a young man asked me, “Should I tell my mother I am gay?”

  And I said, “Never tell your mother anything!”

  Then later, just as I was leaving the theatre, I found the young man standing and waiting for me. By his side was a white-haired little old lady. He said, “When you said never tell my mother anything, she was with me.”

  I turned to the little old lady, but before I could say anything, she said, “I’m with you, I don’t want to know.”

  This episode therefore reinforced my long-held opinion. They really don’t want to know. What are they supposed to say? “I congratulate you,” or “Don’t tell your father!” or “How terrible for you,” or “What?”

  You see, a large number don’t want to hear the words. When that woman was told her son was gay, she then knew the truth, which of course she had known in a way all the time. Previously, when the neighbors had said to her, “Your youngest son is so good-looking. Why is it I never see him with a girl?” She would reply, “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just not met the right girl.” But now she knows the truth.

  So now when the question is asked she is either forced to lie or she blushes, tears come into her eyes and she runs indoors. My advice is simple: don’t tell anybody anything unless they ask. By asking they are saying they are ready for the truth to impact their lives.

  The truth is that, by the time you are twenty-nine, they will know anyway. Or as good as know. They will know something’s up and they will draw their own conclusions. Possibly they will talk about it amongst themselves and arrive at the right conclusion and everything will be alright.

  Why gay men are still called ‘gay’ I can’t imagine, because these days they are all so angry. And before they were angry, they were miserable. So, I think gay in the traditional meaning is the last thing that they are. There is, of course, a kind of hysterical gaiety among gay men, which was once described by Mr. Proust.[43] He said, “The laughter of homosexuals is a spasm, convulsing the knees and the wrists.” It sounds catty until you realize that Proust was gay himself, so he is being equally disparaging to himself as well as to others.

  I remember when the gay community decided to use the word ‘queer’ as an identifier and reclaimed the word from those who had turned it into a slur. Christopher Isherwood[44] and I never minded the word queer, even when it was meant to be an insult. I think we both recognized it was only a word, and there was no good getting worked up about it.

  But returning to the word ‘gay’, I have never known any group of people less gay than the gay community. They are serious about everything. Everything is an affront these days. Everything is a wrong. They must be tired of marching up and down the streets. They should know that you don’t gain a good public image by walking in and out of cathedrals and interrupting communion services. To me it’s all a little aggressive. Too demanding.

  I admit, however ,that the gay population has a problem when someone like Matthew Shepard is murdered. It is a very serious thing, if he was really only murdered because he was gay. At the trial of his murderers there were people standing outside the courtroom saying the boys had done the right thing. That homosexuality must be stamped out! And I saw those statements broadcast on television! His was such a terrible, terrible death, and a reminder to us that such violence still goes on.

  I do however think it’s an unalterable law that anger begets anger. I do think many actions by the gay community have backfired because, if you shake your fists in the face of society, it will do the same to you.

  My personal belief is that it would have been better to have been quieter. That’s taking the long-term view however, and I must say that most gay Americans do not share my patience. They want everything to be now.

  I would wish it would change. I wish that homosexuals would just go on living their lives and not always be demonstrating, shouting, screaming, carrying on and disturbing everything.

  You see, to real people, homosexuals these days only represent trouble. People used to say to me in England, “What do they want now?” This was because they thought gay men and women were always asking for something. Always wanting to go somewhere, be something or say something. I fear it only comes across as attention-seeking and trouble-making.

  Nowadays, homosexuals look around for something that they have been denied and insist on having it. Gay men serving in the military is a case in point. When I ask them if they really want the right to be a killing machine they say, “No. No. But I would be prepared to shoot somebody if the circumstances demanded it.” That’s not what a soldier is like! A soldier loves to kill and they count the number of people they shoot. They say, “There they are!” Bang! Bang! Bang! “Got four of them!” And that’s the way a soldier’s mind has to work or else he can’t be a soldier. I don’t think most gay men have any idea of that.

  And I have never understood why gay men want long-term relationships. To my mind, there is a weird insufficiency in being gay. Gay people feel inadequate. They want to be just as good as real people, so they want everything that real people have. Hence their desire for long-term relationships. But this is a mistake, not just for gay men, but for their heterosexual brothers and sisters. Gay people deny that they want to be normal, but it is visible for everyone to see. They want everything except their sexual preference to be just like the rest of the world.

  They feel like outsiders. They say they want to be separate but equal, but I don’t think they do. I once said to a gay man, “A gay person is somebody standing on the bank watching other people swim.”

  He responded rather defensively to me, “Oh, I’m swimming alright!” I took this to mean he was having a jolly time, rather than that he was part of the real world.

  I know my opinion is a minority one within the gay community, although I have met others who share my views. I accept, however that they are old-fashioned. They represent the time in which I grew up when the world was very different.

  Every minority that has fought against oppression for acceptance or for so-called ‘rights’ has always had dual forces within it. Some advocate for radical change. Others for an approach that doesn’t rock the boat. Some want immediate acceptance. Others plead for assimilation rather than confrontation.

  As you can tell, I am more for the gradual approach. Partly this is because of my life experience. Partly this is because I am weary. I have also learned that it is better to ask for nothing. That way you are never disappointed.

  I would however point out one flaw in the gay community’s plan to become real people with the exception of their sexual preference, and it is this: when there is nothing to distinguish us from real people, we will have less and less in common with one another. At that point the gay community will cease to be a community at all. At that point we may end up joining the real world, but it will be at the downfall of our own.