Rating: 
Summary: Quentin Crisp was not a homosexual...
Review: ...well, okay, YES he preferred the company of men, and he cringed at the thought of carnal relations with women, but I'd argue that *The Naked Civil Servant* isn't actually about anything as obvious as sexuality. It's clearly more about living on the fringes of mainstream society--even on the fringes of a fringe society, as the homo subculture was in Mr. Crisp's salad days (and still is, in some places).Throughout the book, Crisp makes it quite clear that he's not your average gay man. The makeup, the hair, the nails: these bits of frippery aren't for every homo. In fact, he talks at length about the fact that many of his gay friends wouldn't even be seen with him during the day because of his flambuoyant appearance. Crisp was doing his own thing. In the end (if you'll pardon the expression), Crisp wasn't out to champion gay rights. Rather, he was arguing for widespread tolerance of individuals who don't live up to the hegemonic standard. Whether that means tolerance of three-headed Siberian pygmies or of flaming, screechingly effeminate creatures such as himself, I don't think his arguments would change much.
Rating:
Summary: What a hoot!
Review: By far, one of the funniest books I've ever read, and I read quite a bit. The writing is dry and witty, like Sedaris in ME TALK PRETTY or McCrae in BARK OF THE DOGWOOD, and Crip's insights into things are at once hysterical and also tinged with sadness. My favorite quote in the book? "My parents hated me chiefly because I was expensive." Or something along those lines. Do yourself a favor and read this. Like CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES or NAKED this is one you'll want to keep on your bookshelves to pull out from time to time when you need a good laugh. Highly recommended.
Rating: 
Summary: An interesting museum piece
Review: I found this strange reading. It could be described as a museum piece in that it evokes a lost world, yet upon reflection I think that, unfortunately, many of the attitudes Crisp describes have not yet died away. Crisp comes over as a courageous person in his own way, willing to bear the hatred of his fellow man in order to be himself. Yet he did not seem to me to be a likeable character, being rather feckless, snobbish, and disliking or despising virtually everyone he came into contact with, even his fellow homosexuals. Above all, the value of the book lies in its descriptions of a Britain in which sexuality was repressed, seething under a patina of hypocrisy.
Rating:
Summary: I adored it
Review: It made me laugh and kept my attention. It is so sad that the hatred and violence that Quentin Crisp experienced years ago is still around today. I did feel lik I really knew the man after reading the book. He is very honest and very dry. A good read.
Rating:
Summary: I adored it
Review: It made me laugh and kept my attention. It is so sad that the hatred and violence that Quentin Crisp experienced years ago is still around today. I did feel lik I really knew the man after reading the book. He is very honest and very dry. A good read.
Rating:
Summary: HEROES COME IN ALL SHAPES AND SIZES (AND HAIR COLOURS)
Review: Mr. Crisp's story should not be read as the folly of a man whose personal behavior was too far afield to be successfully reconciled with acceptable social standards. Quentin Crisp did not dress flamboyantly merely because he wanted attention or abuse; he dressed his way because he felt he HAD to. In being himself, he was obeying the most fundamental law of human existence: to thine own self be true. And in doing so at the risk (and indeed the consquence) of complete social ostracism and peril of his life. How, I would like to know, can anybody see Quentin Crisp as anything but a hero in the greatest, noblest sense of word? He did not compromise his sense of honesty or his personal integrity, no matter how violently the tides of societal ignorance and hatred swept against him. A hero stands his ground, never retreats, and presses on with what he knows in his heart to be right; he fights for truth, he fights with courage. Quentin Crisp fought hard, without the comforting knowledge that one day his sacrifices would lay the groundwork for new understanding between persons of conventional and alternative lifestyles. In every generation there is always one person who cannot be content with the way things are, who challenges society, bucks the establishment, shakes the boat. In his pursuit of happiness, Quentin did just that. Not because he WANTED to, but because he HAD to.
Rating:
Summary: Well written and witty
Review: Quentin Crisp tells the story of his life in this very well written and witty autobiography. There is much to admire here: the black wit and intelligent insights about life, culture and gender; the willingness to reveal some truly heartcrushing episodes he has experienced. It is a book which has "classic" written all over it. I suppose that people will be reading it two centuries from now. It also has a good deal which is not admirable. The main subject of the book is how Crisp endured some very atrocious persecution and even beatings because of his appearance. He dyed his long hair red and sometimes blue, wore makeup and eye shadow, allowed his long nails to grow to excessive lengths. He regularly appeared like this in in public in England from the 1930's on. Because of his outrageous (and voluntary) appearance and his essential indolence, it is difficult to undertsand why his life is to be seriously considered as a story about being persecuted for homosexuality (which he believes it was and presents as such) when it seems clear to me that he was being ostracized for flamboyant and egomaniacal exhibitionism. After all, Crisp freely chose to appear in public in his dramatic get up; at any time he could have thrown out his cosmetics and been much more accepted and better employed. Instead, he chose this daily martyrdom for decades. The result was a long life of rejection, poverty, loneliness and suffering. Beneath his self mocking wit, one sometimes detects a fierce rage at his lot in life. But he must have known that his choices would have the serious consequences that they did. Everyone told him so. Crisp comes across as an intelligent man totally lacking in common sense. After finishing this book, this reader wonders what the point of all this exhibitionism was. He could have spent his time on a more worthy cause than making the world safe for heavily made up and dyed eccentrics. At one point, Crisp justifies his appearance by stating "this is me." No it wasn't. Cosmetics do not make a person or the persons' character. They merely paint the shell. Still in all, this story is unusual enough and clever enough to be read by anyone looking for an enjoyable read.
Rating:
Summary: What a hoot!
Review: Quentin Crisp truly embodies the expression "to thine own self be true." But his life bumped up against another cliche, "don't frighten the horses." As a young man in London during the 1920s and 1930s, he lived openly as an effeminate, homosexual man, not closeted, but, as he says in these witty memoirs, "brazening it out" and willing to take the social and other lumps associated with such visibility. Actually, his sexuality seems to be the least of his problems in these sharply observed autobiographical accounts. An eccentric in the true British tradition, he refused ever to dust his bedroom, observing that after the first three years the dust didn't get any worse . . . and at bedtime he slipped beneath the seldom-washed sheets ensconced in cold cream like a cocoon in its chrysalis. Corporate life had its own bewilderments and intrigues for Mr. Crisp, who was silly enough to take literally what he was told to do. When asked to buy his employer a pair of scissors, he went to a good stationery store and spent one shilling sixpence (eighteen pence, pre-decimalization, about US$.50 at that time) for a good pair of office scissors. This frightened his office colleague no end, who had expected him to pick up a cheap pair at Woolworth's for sixpence. Crisp facetiously suggested denominating the more costly pair "paper shears" and was aghast when she accepted his notion all too happily. His droll take on the mismatch between his mentality and the corporate life shows us that his ego demands no grandiosity, no sense of who is "right" and who is "wrong," but simply a perpetual befuddlement at two mindsets that can never understand each other. Along with such everyday satires of circumstance, much of the pleasure of *The Naked Civil Servant* lies in its prose style and tone, which are conversational and chatty, but also clever and occasionally arch. Perhaps like a pleasant, purring pussy cat who gets its back up once in a while, but is never indignant -- not at us, anyway. As an inducement to stay in town and leave the family alone, Crisp mentions receiving the proceeds of "GUILT"-edged securities, a pun on the British term "gilt-edged" securities, or what we Americans would call "blue-chip stock." But of course, interwar gay life had its stereotyping and role-playing. The he-man types were expected to be the sexual aggressors, and the nellies the submissives. In one section Crisp complains that he and his friends "camped it up all over the place" but their virile new acquaintances were too dense to figure out what they wanted in bed. Because of this book, Mr. Crisp's services (as an author and savant) became greatly in demand on this side of the pond, and he became a favorite in lecture halls and as author of such books as *Manners From Heaven.* His Wildean sensibility was evident -- when he panned a movie he'd say something like "it was as boring as real life." But Crisp was never a bore, and there was never a book like this. First-rate all the way, full of surprises, and interesting glimpses of an interwar England not usually mentioned in the usual histories.
Rating:
Summary: "Queer" Before There Was "Queer" -- And Funny as Hell
Review: Quentin Crisp truly embodies the expression "to thine own self be true." But his life bumped up against another cliche, "don't frighten the horses." As a young man in London during the 1920s and 1930s, he lived openly as an effeminate, homosexual man, not closeted, but, as he says in these witty memoirs, "brazening it out" and willing to take the social and other lumps associated with such visibility. Actually, his sexuality seems to be the least of his problems in these sharply observed autobiographical accounts. An eccentric in the true British tradition, he refused ever to dust his bedroom, observing that after the first three years the dust didn't get any worse . . . and at bedtime he slipped beneath the seldom-washed sheets ensconced in cold cream like a cocoon in its chrysalis. Corporate life had its own bewilderments and intrigues for Mr. Crisp, who was silly enough to take literally what he was told to do. When asked to buy his employer a pair of scissors, he went to a good stationery store and spent one shilling sixpence (eighteen pence, pre-decimalization, about US$.50 at that time) for a good pair of office scissors. This frightened his office colleague no end, who had expected him to pick up a cheap pair at Woolworth's for sixpence. Crisp facetiously suggested denominating the more costly pair "paper shears" and was aghast when she accepted his notion all too happily. His droll take on the mismatch between his mentality and the corporate life shows us that his ego demands no grandiosity, no sense of who is "right" and who is "wrong," but simply a perpetual befuddlement at two mindsets that can never understand each other. Along with such everyday satires of circumstance, much of the pleasure of *The Naked Civil Servant* lies in its prose style and tone, which are conversational and chatty, but also clever and occasionally arch. Perhaps like a pleasant, purring pussy cat who gets its back up once in a while, but is never indignant -- not at us, anyway. As an inducement to stay in town and leave the family alone, Crisp mentions receiving the proceeds of "GUILT"-edged securities, a pun on the British term "gilt-edged" securities, or what we Americans would call "blue-chip stock." But of course, interwar gay life had its stereotyping and role-playing. The he-man types were expected to be the sexual aggressors, and the nellies the submissives. In one section Crisp complains that he and his friends "camped it up all over the place" but their virile new acquaintances were too dense to figure out what they wanted in bed. Because of this book, Mr. Crisp's services (as an author and savant) became greatly in demand on this side of the pond, and he became a favorite in lecture halls and as author of such books as *Manners From Heaven.* His Wildean sensibility was evident -- when he panned a movie he'd say something like "it was as boring as real life." But Crisp was never a bore, and there was never a book like this. First-rate all the way, full of surprises, and interesting glimpses of an interwar England not usually mentioned in the usual histories.
Rating:
Summary: I've never read it.
Review: To be honest, i've never read this book or heard of it until yesterday. I heard Tim Burton was in talks of making it as his next movie. Being a major Burton fan I thought I would share my info.
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