I’m rather tired of people who can only be clever, and am beginning to deplore my own attempts to be clever. My interactions with other human beings leave me feeling frustrated and, well, actually, sometimes quite furious. There’s a line from a Morrissey song that goes, “You fight with your right hand/ And caress with your left hand/ Everyone I know is sick to death of you.” Well, I do feel very much as if I blow hot and cold, so to speak, fight with my right hand and caress with my left hand. And I do tend to hate myself for it and feel that other people must hate me for it, too. But, you know, I’m dying of loneliness. That’s all.
Some years ago, a friend of mine told me a quote that he claimed was from Oscar Wilde. I’ve never actually come across the quote in any other context, so I can’t be certain of the truth. However, the quote has stayed with me, and has actually come to haunt me more and more in recent times. The quote goes like this: “There are only two important things in life. The first is that everyone must act as superficially as possible. No one has yet discovered the second.”
It seems to me that the implications of this quote are clear. The second most important thing is clearly the reason why we are all here, and the reason no one has ever discovered it is because they are all too busy following the first ‘most important thing in life’. But I have always, always, always been one of those shameful, embarrassing, annoying, selfish, unwelcome, deluded people who burn to discover the second ‘most important thing in life’. And because of this desire I have frequently got into trouble with people. I reach out, and I am disappointed.
It seems to me that people don’t really want to know each other. It is important to be independent, to stand on your own two feet, not to bother anyone. And if you show signs of actually needing other people, of not standing on your own two feet, people find this a dreadful nuisance. Somehow they have learnt to be entirely self-contained. It is a terrible crime to be any other way. In fact, just as human beings wear clothes to cover up the crime of their naked bodies, they adopt social superficiality to cover up a nakedness of the soul which is considered to be a thousand times more obscene than that of the body. Why? What is obscene about the human soul? I would say that, if there is something obscene about it, it is that we have already lived for generations and generations upon lies. We clothe ourselves in lies. We eat lies. We build and shelter in lies. We sleep in lies. We bathe in lies. We buy and sell lies. Anything that reminds us of these lies is ugly in the extreme.
And so to heterosexuality. Of course, people cannot maintain this condition of being self-contained forever. So what do they do? The only release that is possible in this society is through sex or ‘romantic love’. One thing I hate about heterosexuality is that it makes love something exclusive. Once someone finds themselves in a relationship it’s, “I’m all right, Jack!” There is one person that is important in their life, one person only. To hell with the rest of them! “When I am with you I can be myself!” they say. Once they leave the presence of that person they enter the wasteland where by law everyone must act in the most superficial way possible. Under such pressure to contain the entire meaning of life, when no meaning is to be found elsewhere because people are afraid of investing meaning in anything else, such relationships very often fall to pieces and end in heartbreak.
And for people like me? Sad people, yes. People who should ‘get a life’, yes. Since we do not have that one special person, we demand meaning from other areas of our life, such as friendships. And in so doing we annoy people. And in so doing we become frustrated and angry and bitter.
But what if, what if that second ‘most important thing in life’ were actually discovered? What it would require would be that people stopped being so self-contained and actually decided to take an interest in people APART FROM THEIR SEXUAL PARTNERS. We might find that in valuing other people we were able to build a world where there was no want. I realise that people tend to recoil from such ‘peace and love’ Utopianism these days. But we’re at a point in history where, if we don’t have Utopia, what we will have very soon is Hell or extinction.
I’m not claiming to know everything. I myself don’t know exactly how to discover that second ‘most important thing’. I try, and I meet with no co-operation, and in fear I retreat again. Perhaps I’m scared too, that in the end I would find that there was no second ‘most important thing’ and that we’re all nothing but empty shells. On that subject, I can’t help thinking of a song by The Cure, based on a short story by Charles Baudelaire. The lyrics are as follows:
How Beautiful You Are!
You want to know why I hate you?
Well I'll try and explain…
You remember that day in Paris
When we wandered through the rain
And promised to each other
That we'd always think the same
And dreamed that dream
To be two souls as one
And stopped just as the sun set
And waited for the night
Outside a glittering building
Of glittering glass and burning light…
And in the road before us
Stood a weary greyish man
Who held a child upon his back
A small boy by the hand
The three of them were dressed in rags
And thinner than the air
And all six eyes stared fixedly on you
The father's eyes said "Beautiful!
How beautiful you are!"
The boy's eyes said
"How beautiful!
She shimmers like a star!"
The child’s eyes uttered nothing
But a mute and utter joy
And filled my heart with shame for us
At the way we are
I turned to look at you
To read my thoughts upon your face
And gazed so deep into your eyes
So beautiful and strange
Until you spoke
And showed me understanding is a dream
"I hate these people staring
Make them go away from me!"
The father’s eyes said "Beautiful!
How beautiful you are!"
The boy’s eyes said
"How beautiful! She glitters like a star!"
The child's eyes uttered nothing
But quiet and utter joy
And stilled my heart with sadness
For the way we are
And this is why I hate you
And how I understand
That no-one ever knows or loves another
Or loves another
Perhaps it is impossible actually even to meet another person. God knows I feel as if I’ve never met anyone even for a single moment. I have tried. I really have tried. And now I am reminded of a poem by Mervyn Peake:
Is There no Love Can Link Us?
Is there no thread to bind us-I and he
Who is dying now, this instant as I write
And may be cold before this line's complete?
And is there no power to link us-I and she
Across whose body the loud roof is falling?
Or the child, whose blackening skin
Blossoms with hideous roses in the smoke?
Is there no love can link us -I and they?
Only this hectic moment? This fierce instant
Striking now
Its universal, its uneven blow?
There is no other link. Only this sliding
Second we share: this desperate edge of now.
I have tried. Do other people try? I sometimes wonder. Is there anybody out there? Will I ever actually meet another human being? Will we discover what that second ‘most important thing’ is before our superficiality drowns and chokes the whole planet with the pollution of lies?
I don’t know if you found the story, but I believe it’s in the Nameless Dread post.
I do appreciate your comments. (Sorry to be so repetitive.) At the moment I’m working on a new short(ish) story called ‘The Fairy Killer’. If you’re interested I’d like to send it to you when I’ve finished it. I’ll probably send it to a magazine or an anthology, if I can, but if you were so inclined you could tell me what I’ve done wrong before I send it somewhere. (I like to get a bit of feedback at that in-between stage.)
Well, I’m rather sleepy now…
Goodnight.
Q.
PS. Yes, it is a strange forum.
Hello Emily. What you say about being mortified at your own comments reminds me of that feeling I used to get when I heard a recording of my own voice. It was worse than hearing nails on a blackboard. Actually, I’m mortified by the bits in my blog where I try to be clever. Why do I do it? I think to myself. But anyway, I have been enjoying your blog. In terms of people reading blogs, it seems to be a bit of a lottery. I think you wrote something similar on your own blog, but I seem to swing between wanting people to read mine, and being glad that few people do. I think even the most popular blogs don’t receive that much in the way of direct response from readers. It doesn’t seem to be that kind of gig. Anyway….. Take care. Quentin.
There is such a stiffness in any line of thought that wants to solve the problem of self when the answer presented is stiffly limited to the very same self. Does that makes sense? That’s meant to show simply that not everybody thinks the same way we think they think. Not everybody are happy with things which we think should make them happy. Oddly again, does that makes sense. 🙂
It’s not about trying to be clever, I guess. I’d rather not ask the question you ask. There’s no way out of that. I’d rather ask: what is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING in life? Our answer will determine our destiny.
Hello Theophilus. Thank you for writing.
I’m not sure I’m trying to solve the problem of self so much as the problem of other, but presumably the same difficulties occur. I’m well aware that what I have written is likely to say more about my own inability to relate to people than it is to say anything about those people. Nonetheless, I didn’t think the expression of these feelings was entirely without value. They seem to circle endlessly round in my head, anyway. Embarrassing as they may be, I can’t simply deny them.
As yet I have no answer, hardly even a clue, just the intermittent feeling that there is something I must urgently try to communicate.
I hope that some day I will discover that my efforts have meaning for someone.
Well, I think I’m fairly bewildered as it is, so it looks like I’ve made a saving there. Thank you very much for your comments. It’s a shame you don’t live down the road, or we could discuss further over a cup of tea.
I used to think of myself as a Christopher Robin kind of character, sort of fresh and innocent, but when I put this idea to a friend of mine, she said, “No, more like Eeyore.” And I suppose that is how my voice sounds when I hear it recorded, like Eeyore, but worse.
I can’t think of a better compliment than the one about “awake-ness”. Thank you. I only hope I am able to live up to it.
Well, I have just finished my copy-editing for today (though I may do a little later), and now I intend to go for my walk.
Tata,
Q.
Maybe you don’t have to look far. Like it or not, consciously or unconsciously, you influence and affect the lives of people around you. Think about this. Do you have to do something to influence the lives of your parents and your family? Even the insignificant is lifted to significance with just a little change of perspective. With absolute certainty, I daresay, you mean something to somebody.
Emily,
I’m very glad to hear that. It may actually take me some time to finish the story because this copy-editing is proving to be a bit heavy. I’ve been working – a little – at weekends, too. So, don’t be surprised if it’s a few months. Also I write everything out in long-hand first, which makes it take a bit longer. But I’d very much like to send it to you, and I hope you enjoy it.
It might be easier if you send me your e-mail address at my e-mail addres, which is to be found in http://my.opera.com/quentinscrisp/journal/13">this post. I do tend to delete things that look suspicious, but if you make it clear in the heading that it’s from you and it’s not a virus then that will be fine.
I’d better go. I’ve just had a phonecall from my client – or whatever the correct word is – saying they want the hypothesis section by Tuesday, and I haven’t even started on it! Eek, as they say.
Q. 😮
Yes, it is possible that my existence means something to somebody, which is why I used the word ‘discover’. I haven’t yet been able to discover such a thing for myself. It doesn’t seem to be as simple as a person telling you that you mean something to them. I honestly cannot feel links between myself and other people. When I am alone, I cease to exist, and wait for the consciousness of another person to bring me back into existence. Well, I’m not sure how far I can take this metaphor. But I have the impression that others get on with their lives. I merely wait for them to remember me occasionally. I have never been able to feel that I am a presence in their lives when I am not physically with them. Even then, I’ve never really felt like a presence in someone else’s life. It seems to be a question of feeling, and I’m not sure what it would take to change that. At the moment I am trying as much as possible not to expect anything, not to wait, merely to get on with whatever I am doing at any given moment.
Hi Quentin. Please call me Emily. You don’t strike me as particularly outspoken at all. On the contrary, I imagine you to be introspective and somewhat reserved. I’m not entirely sure if blogs are even a forum for the outspoken, outside of the political arena. It’s a quieter breed of person, a person more prone to implosion that sits down to write their thoughts as a way to express them. And, juxtaposed to the outspoken-ness you hear in your writings, I am mortified by the stiffness and formality of all my comments. I always come off sounding so dull because I want people to think I’m smart. But I’m really not like that in real life (formal or smart). I’m glad you read my blog. You might be the only person who has.
-Emily
More questions.
Do I need to feel that my computer exists before it does?
Do I need to feel that my computer is important before I can use it?
As I type these words, do I need to feel that my computer is useful or able before it starts putting the words on the screen?
Your significance has got nothing to do with your feelings or the opinion of others. Good feelings are just bonuses and opinions can be wrong. And that includes your own.
SO how about considering this question: what is the most important thing in life?
I know what you mean about hearing your own voice. I always think my voice must sound very deep, almost masculine. But when I hear it played back to me, like on my cellphone greeting, I’m shocked by how high-pitched and child-like it sounds. It continually amazes me that our self-perceptions can be so inaccurate. It’s worrisome, really.
I’m glad you’ve enjoyed my blog. Likewise, I have found yours particularly interesting. You have some really lovely ideas, and such an interesting perspective. I share some of your opinions, and I recognize in you a sort-of “awake-ness” that is very rare. But even if your blog were the rantings of an unenlightened, boorish old grouch, your use of language would still make then worth reading. I enjoy your style so much!
Also, there are worse things to be in this world than clever, or even unclever.
“Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment.”
— Jalal ud-Din Rumi
-Emily
Personally, I’d say that the most important thing in life is the individual. This might also be called ‘the soul’. It is precisely that part of the human being that society is designed to supress.
Q,
That you recognize “awake-ness” as the highest kind of compliment is indicative of your worthiness of such a compliment. It is a shame I don’t live down the road, because I think I would enjoy talking to you. I love tea, and I’m always bewildered too. From the moment I began reading your blog I was captivated by your heartbreaking eloquence. It goes without saying that you are a thinker- I think you are one of the people who look at things and really see them. You try to be alive all the time. And you describe everything, even if it’s just to yourself, like a reflex. Description is a way of posession, to catalog a moment forever and ever.
I would never have seen this comment except that I was looking for that story about the man on the mystery boat ride that I read somewhere else in your blog. I can’t get that story out of my head. This is such a strange forum, allowing you to conduct several simultaneous coversations with the same person.
Well, still gotta find that story. Peace.
E
Quentin-
Now that I have found someone who thinks like you, I don’t even know what to say to you? Isn’t that sad? Your writing so achingly atriculates the same things that constantly torment me. I find myself suffocating like a fish in troughs of contempt for my fellow man, only to be washed over and overcome with swell of desire to connect with all of them, to teach them something, to demonstrate ultimate love by enhancing the human experience. It seems so futile, and no one understands. And they don’t understand. I reach out in kindness, I imagine my palms glowing like a saint. They frown and do not see. They do not say “thank you.”
But lonliness and art go hand in hand I think. It is the price paid by the soul. You are right about heterosexuality though, and the way it limits people’s interactions with one another. That’s something I’ve often thought about but never heard anyone else say. Just so you don’t feel too alone, you’ve made a fan of me. I’ll be reading your blog.
-Emily
Q,
Of course I’d be absolutely delighted to read your story! Let me know when you’re ready and I will tell you where to go for my email address (don’t want to post it irrevocably for all to see).
I did find that story, by the way. So artful- a whole story that is a delicate metaphor. It reminds me of nightmares I had as a child, that I was bobbing in the water next to a towering ocean liner. Far above, people dangled a rope to me, but it ended a few inches beyond my grasp. Unable to climb the slick wall of the boat, I stretched and strained until there was a tiny ball of fire between every joint in my hand, my neck, my arm. But I could never reach the rope.
No need to be apologetic. I very much enjoy these little journal volleys. It’s 2:00 a.m. here, so I guess I better get to bed too. Goodnight!
E
Hello. I notice that your blog bears the name Emily. Is that how I should address you? Thank you very much for your comments. To be honest, I’m not sure what to say either, but I am grateful that you have taken the time to read what I’ve written, and to respond. Actually, sooner or later I shall be posting another entry about this entry, I think. I hope my blog continues to be of interest. I find myself outspoken in my blog really quite despite myself. I’m not like that in real life. I hope this doesn’t give the wrong impression… By the way, I intend to answer your other comment – the autumn one – when I get a moment, but it’s bedtime now. Quentin.
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