To read this book is to enter another world. It plunges the reader headfirst into the world before, then after World War 1 through the character of one fabulous woman. A woman ahead of her time, and possibly even our time. The Marchesa Luisa Casati set out to invent herself at a time when most women only sought the protection of marriage.
The writers present this complicated woman without making judgements or trying to force the reader to make judgements. There is little or no psychologizing of the sort that makes many biographies tedious reading. It is a case of "Here is the story of this one woman whose life touched practically every great artist, writer, dancer,and of the time in which she lived. Make of it what you will, but she provided a hell of a ride."
I have just read it and am looking forward to reading it all over again. Some of what I read I MUST read again, just to assure myself it is true. I highly recommend it for anyone interested in the arts of the first half of the twentieth century and to anyone who simply wants a damn good read.

I read a review of this book in a national newspaper in the UK, and it sounded so interesting I bought it. I had never heard of the Marchesa before, but I have no idea why, she is so strange and marvellous that she really ought to be a household name. It's a bit too heroine-worshipping - yes, she is fascinating, but perhaps she wasn't terribly nice to know. But this is still a very absorbing book - I wish there had been more photos of her, but I suppose there is a generous selection already.

I've been a long time fan of the Marchesa Casati and her wild antics and have always hoped there'd someday be a book on her. I couldn't believe it when I finally found "Infinite Variety". This book was worth the wait. It contains so much info on this bizarre "living work of art" that her life is hard to believe, but, as they say "Believe it or not"! I can't beileve that there's been nothing on Casati before. A fantastic book. My only complaint was that the authors didn't reproduce all of the paintings of Casati. But, there are over 50 pictures, each one better than the last. You won't believe some of them! Like I said, a fantastic book. Casati couldn't have asked for more!

If you have read the book with Mr. Crisps droll, flat voice in your head....you can begin to imagine how much fun the audio version of this book is. His dry wit is very much in evidence here as he shares his unique perspective on life in the "smile and nod racket".

I think this recording belongs in the Smithsonian Archives.

Crisp has done it again! Just when you think you're a maven on things-BOOM- he publishes his diaries! What a scandal, although I am sure some blue nosed puritan proofreader somewhere omitted some of the more "Corrupting evidence", Mr. Crisps personality and always charming style and wit still manage to rise above the parchment at every turn. This is an ideal "Holiday" gift for a freind to take along when on a long flight or travel to make the time seem to "Fly by", as it did for me when I enjoyed it the first time...My Word!,...I think I shall go and read it again now. Mr. Crisp is timeless and indefatigable... and like "Miss Jean Brodie", still in his "Prime"time! Kudo's once again and, Bravo, Mr. Crisp, You are "La Divine'" indeed!

First published in 1987 under the title "Conversations with My Elders," Celluloid Gaze by Boze Hadleigh is a ground breaking collection of interviews with six men who share a common and unusual trait relevant to their success in the movie-making industry: they were gay, and during their lifetimes, they concealed their sexual orientation from the public. Yet these interviews are remarkably open and candid about how these men's sexuality affected their lives and careers. A new preface reflects upon changing attitudes toward homosexuality in just 15 years, and how some prejudices have remained as rooted as ever. Celluloid Gaze is an informed and informative contribution to Film History and Gay Studies academic reference collections and supplemental reading lists, as well as highly recommended reading for fans of the film work of Sal Mineo, Luchino Visconti, Cecil Beaton, George Cukor, Rainer Werner Fassbinder, and Rock Hudson.

A wonderful 'how-to' from the master himself. Full of Quentin's classic wit. I loved every page of it.

Margot Howard Howard's book is the best drag queen autobiography I know -- hilarious, marvelously detailed, and finally delightfully slippery. Who is this creature, and what about her could we ever be certain of? Ms Howard Howard demonstrates that identity is often found in performance, in the playing out of oneself,in costume and tale-telling and writing oneself LARGE. All aficionados of drag, all connoisseurs of the further reaches of the memoir, and all theorists of identity & truth-telling will love this book.

This second part of the Gormenghast trilogy focuses on Titus Groan, 77th Earl of Gormenghast's youth, from schooling to his ascention to manhood. This book took me almost a year to read (one long break) - the first half of the book progresses incredibly slowly, even for Peake's normally languid pace - I just couldn't cope. I can appreciate his qualities as a wordsmith - his vocabulary is second to none but I couldn't help but think he could have shortened things somewhat- the schoolmasters' preparation to court Irma drags on and on, but her eventual marriage has virtually no importance to the main plot, and ends up seeming like a waste of time and space - 'I waded through molasses for what!'

In stark contrast, the latter half of the book contains Peake's best (I think) work of the entire trilogy, culminating in the hunt for Steerpike - which is superb. Definately a book of two halves, (bad cliche) but the reader is rewarded for their effort in the end.

It's not really possible to review Gormenghast out of context with the other two books that sandwich it: Titus Groan leads you into the world of Gormenghast and Titus Alone makes you wonder how Gormenghast, the place, exists.
This second volume continues to follow the adventures of the murderously ambitious Steerpike, the maturity and self-awareness of Titus Groan, with some colorful side-trips into a courtship, the revelation of a creature completely antithetical to all that Gormanghast stands for, and a natural disaster that heightens the intensity of the conclusion.
I would heartily recommend starting with Titus Groan (it seems the only available edition has all three volumes in one), and working through them in sequence. But make sure you avoid all the scholarly apparatus that follows Titus Alone until you've finished all three: there are a few spoilers there.
As for the comparisons to Tolkein, I'm afraid I don't see it: they as different as can be. This is not a hero's quest and where it does come down to good versus evil, it's more to do with survival: the world of Gormenghast is a world of murk and shadows, with no clear delineations or values. Titus Groan's self-awareness and the choices he makes are what drive the story. In The Lord of the Rings, there's a sense of destiny to the decisions and actions: Gormenghast is much more personal, with Steerpike's ambition, Sepulchrave's sense of duty, Flay's vigilance, Titus's maturity all helping to propel the action.
Now go read this monster.

These books rank with the greatest books of world literature, and only one of them is still in print? Every library in the world should have a copy of the trilogy. Anyway, here we find the story of the adolescence of Titus Groan. We are also given more depth into the other characters. I'd like to note that my veiw of Steerpike and Flay changed. When I read Titus Groan, I found Steerpike more a sympathetic character than Flay, here it is otherwise. I'd also like to mention on how the events in the previous book effect the life of Titus Groan in such a way that it seems as if it happened in real life. We see the conflict inside of him between the pride of his linege and the desire for freedom, that eventually has Titus flee the great castle. The conflict between freedom and desire for the home is carried into Titus Alone.

Mr Crisp has (with the help of co-writer John Hofsess) written a fine guide to manners in the troubling modern age, with all its noise and haste, where what once was impolite or unthinkable is now enpowering. Crisp sees a world devouring itself, and sees good manners and civility as a way of rectifying this. His chief point - that manners are a way of getting what we want without appearing an absolute swine. They are a way of making everyone happier and more comfortable, rather than a dusty old set of exclusionary rules.

The language is fluid, dare I say crisp, and overflowing with wit, and has the authoritative, wisened, grandfatherly tone of one who has seen it all. It is caustic and by no means conventional - for example, he feels that telling the truth all the time is not the best idea for smooth social relations - "The lie is the basic building block of good manners."

Concise, knowing, acid and honest.

Quentin Crisp is the only writer on social behaviour able to discern manners from etiquette. Miss Manners, Emily Post or any of the other "society" ladies have never been able to make this distinction. He is also the only writer (in other works) able to clearly define style, so it is evident that we must pay attention. Rather than prattle on about how to behave in such-and-such a situation, he gives general guidlines for good behaviour using witty and entertaining anecdotes. This is not a reference book (as well a book on etiquette might be), but a lively discussion of manners, of how to make others feel welcome in your presence.

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.

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.

Written in what the author describes as his "Havisham twilight," Quentin Crisp set the literary world on it's head when he published this ribald memoir. A man of estimable spirit and courage, Crisp has documented his early life with great wit. By living openly and honestly despite the often negative consequences, Crisp was a pioneer in the gay rights movement. Perhaps this was not his intention at the time, but his willingness to share his life with us in this most enjoyable momoir, has served to embolden an entire generation.

I have never read anything quite like this!

The first book revolves loosely around a newborn Titus Groan that is heir to the earldom of Gormenghast and it's Castle, an archaic, monolithic, stiffly-traditioned place. Throughout the first volume, we meet various members of the castle staff, the royal family and even a few commoners. You'll love Peake's unique way of portraying characters with his hilarious attention to detail. I don't think I'll ever forget the eccentric Mr. Flay or the effeminate Dr. Prune... The Antagonist, Steerpike, has got to be the most villainous, calculating creature I've come across in any book. He's someone you'll love to hate, but also admire. Since this is one of those rare books in which you can easily become attached to the characters, I'll warn you, Peake is not hesitant to dispose of them!

At first, there doesn't seem to be a definitive plot to follow. But, as the story progresses and Titus matures, you begin to see that he is feeling more and more strangled by this static castle life. But, Titus and nearly all of the castle's dwellers are ignorant of what lies beyond Gormenghast. It's important to note that the reader is also kept in the dark. You get the impression that Gormenghast "Was, is and always shall be." And if it's inhabitants have ever dreamed of lands beyond, it is doubtful that any could consciously imagine any other place.

The truth is revealed in book 3. Believing there is nothing left for him, Titus does the unthinkable and abandons his castle, his people and more importantly, his duties as the 77th Earl. The world Titus finds is quite unlike his own. So different in fact that he begins to doubt it ever existed. Even as the reader, I couldn't help wondering if Titus imagined it all during some delirious state of mind. But, the ending satisfies...

I highly recommend this trilogy to lovers of fantasy and haters alike. This work is not classifiable fantasy in a strict sense, as there aren't any mythical beasts or obvious magics. It's kind of a mish-mash of fantasy, sci-fi and drama. But make no mistake, you'll reserve a spot for this classic epic right next to Tolkien. (Though I'm not comparing the two, each is a classic in it's own right).

Well do I remember the momentous day in 1975 when a good friend loaned me a copy of Titus Groan and suggested I might enjoy it. Enjoy it? I was hooked from that first glimpse of the Hall of Bright Carvings; utterly transfixed by strange but compelling stories of the denizens of Gormenghast: a weird place and weird people, to be sure, but not so weird as to be beyond recognition. Peake's prose is masterful throughout; his characters are so profoundly realised that you really do feel you know them: Fuschia, Prunesquallor, Steerpike, Titus himself, my personal hero Mr Flay...wonderful. The narrative has been critized for being ponderous, but bear in mind this is a "big read" and it is best absorbed at a steady pace. The action, when it comes, is all the more startling: consider the cobweb-strewn battle to the death between Flay and the loathsome Swelter, and in Gormenghast, Titus's deadly encounter with Steerpike (now evil personified) amid the stifling ivy. "Titus Groan" and "Gormenghast" are famously more satisfying than "Titus Alone", written when Peake was seriously ill and fading fast, but even "Titus Alone" has some strangely affecting characters and situations. Its strangeness is more disturbing than the first two books however, which are totally enthralling. Since that first encounter over 25 years ago I have re-read this trilogy many, many times, always with more enjoyment than the time before. I made a chess-set with characters from the book (grey scrubbers make great pawns) and have enlivened many a dull day at work by likening some of my colleagues (in my minds eye, of course) to some of Peake's so-called grotesques...the Civil Service is not without its Barquentines and Sourdusts, not to mention the Deadyawns and Cutflowers! This is one book (along with the Bible) I would just not want to be without.

This trilogy seems to be an underground classic of sorts, and it's certainly not for everybody. Yet in the simple premise of a child born and raised under the burden of royalty and rituals, Peake has fashioned a work that is unlike any other. No other author has yet created a world more vivid, more beautiful in its decay, or more heartbreaking. Trapped by the oppressive weight of his lineage and birthright, Titus Groan is sthe story of the birth and childhood of the title character, the Seventy-Seventh Earl of Gormenghast - as well as the tale of the castle and its many inhabitants. The second volume continues on with his life and his dreams of freedom and escape, while the third - reviled by many - breaks away from the setting of Gormenghast to trace the journey of Titus Alone. Though the third is weaker than the first two, it is perhaps the most vividly grotesque and unsettling. All three form a work that will most likely never be equalled by contemporary fantasy writers. Worthy of scholarly consideration. In one of the editions published by Overlook Press, there are critical reviews of Peake's trilogy. Worh a look if you can obtain this volume.

Though it's rather slow to get going in the initial chapters, Oscar Wilde's "Picture of Dorian Gray" builds up into a splendidly effective piece, written in highly polished prose. Dorian Gray, who is suggestively described as "charming" and "beautiful" ... is painted by his friend and admirer, Basil Hallward. Dorian, a self-centered social luminary whose character is reminiscent of Narcissus, makes a bizarre sub-Faustian wish which tragically comes true: that his beautiful portrait may age, while he retains his youthful looks. The conclusion is disastrous, the culmination of a narrative containing elements of murder, suicide, blackmail, a confrontation in a grimy alley and an episode in an opium den. The characters are very well sketched out, particularly the triad of Dorian, Basil and the intellectual cynic, Lord Henry, Dorian's mentor and the mouthpiece of some of Wilde's most cutting amoral opinions. The style is, typically, marvellous, characterised by brilliant exchanges and aphoristic gaiety. Wilde lacerates English bourgeois culture, the conceptions of sin and virtue and the attitudes towards art of his time with tremendous aplomb. Some of his quips are patently snide, sometimes mysogynistic, as in: "Woman represents the triumph of matter over mind, while man represents the triumph of mind over morals." Oh, isn't that just despicable?! I love it!

This sophisticated but crude novel is the story of man's eternal desire for perennial youth, of our vanity and frivolity, of the dangers of messing with the laws of life. Just like "Faust" and "The immortal" by Borges.

Dorian Gray is beautiful and irresistible. He is a socialité with a high ego and superficial thinking. When his friend Basil Hallward paints his portrait, Gray expresses his wish that he could stay forever as young and charming as the portrait. The wish comes true.

Allured by his depraved friend Henry Wotton, perhaps the best character of the book, Gray jumps into a life of utter pervertion and sin. But, every time he sins, the portrait gets older, while Gray stays young and healthy. His life turns into a maelstrom of sex, lies, murder and crime. Some day he will want to cancel the deal and be normal again. But Fate has other plans.

Wilde, a man of the world who vaguely resembles Gray, wrote this masterpiece with a great but dark sense of humor, saying every thing he has to say. It is an ironic view of vanity, of superflous desires. Gray is a man destroyed by his very beauty, to whom an unknown magical power gave the chance to contemplate in his own portrait all the vices that his looks and the world put in his hands. Love becomes carnal lust; passion becomes crime. The characters and the scenes are perfect. Wilde's wit and sarcasm come in full splendor to tell us that the world is dangerous for the soul, when its rules are not followed. But, and it's a big but, it is not a moralizing story. Wilde was not the man to do that. It is a fierce and unrepressed exposition of all the ugly side of us humans, when unchecked by nature. To be rich, beautiful and eternally young is a sure way to hell. And the writing makes it a classical novel. Come go with Wotton and Wilde to the theater, and then to an orgy. You'll wish you age peacefully.

The Picture of Dorian Gray, a story of morals, psychology and poetic justice, has furnished Oscar Wilde with the status of a classical writer. It takes place in 19th-century England, and tells of a man in the bloom of his youth who will remain forever young.

Basil Hallward is a merely average painter until he meets Dorian Gray and becomes his friend. But Dorian, who is blessed with an angelic beauty, inspires Hallward to create his ultimate masterpiece. Awed by the perfection of this rendering, he utters the wish to be able to retain the good looks of his youth while the picture were the one to deteriorate with age. But when Dorian discovers the painting cruelly altered and realizes that his wish has been fulfilled, he ponders changing his hedonistic approach.

Dorian Gray's sharp social criticism has provoked audible controversy and protest upon the book's 1890 publication, and only years later was it to rise to classical status. Written in the style of a Greek tragedy, it is popularly interpreted as an analogy to Wilde's own tragic life. Despite this, the book is laced with the right amounts of the author's perpetual jaunty wit.