Homophobia, Wilde, De Profundis

[smokingboot]

reverend2001 has put a sad piece on his lj about homophobia. It asks that we repost if we agree that homophobia is wrong. I won't repost it, because for me, once said and heard by many is best, and Tony's voice is as strong as mine, but of course homophobia is wrong; anything that stops you expressing yourself is wrong; the only time I would say otherwise is when your self-expression requires that others do not have the same right or are deprived of the ability.



When I was a child, one of the most painful pieces I ever read was Wilde's De Profundis.
( http://www.upword.com/wilde/de_profundis.html )It made me weep. I read it again recently, when down in Brum, and was appalled to find myself not weeping at all. Some consider De Profundis to be a piece about spirituality and art, others a cunning and rather bitchy love letter to an ex. I don't know what it is. I read it and think, 'Here is Oscar at his best,' yet some part of my appreciation is overshadowed by the knowledge of his future.

Despite his hopes in the letter, he was never going to write anything truly great again beyond his experiences of prison. And he lied to his wife, and went to Paris, met Bosie again, died threadbare, impoverished in art and in love though never in wit, bless him. Dying in excruciating pain of cerebral meningitis in the Hotel D'Alsace he joked about the wallpaper; 'Either it goes or I do.'

He was forty-seven years old. I now read De Profundis and think, 'Yes, yes my dear, but all this is such a waste. It is a moment's epiphany, a long night of the soul beautifully rendered. You will wake in the morning and it will be gone. And, exquisite though it is, you deserve more.' I want to scream at him, as I have done at one or two of my best friends, as I have done at myself from time to time; 'He doesn't love you, you idiot!'

But who can ever accept that?

I was curious to learn about Bosie, Alfred Douglas, whose father played such a part in Wilde's ruin. Bosie you know, lived long enough. In later life he resoundingly denounced his ex-lover, yet he never got over his own obsession with young men. He became a litigenous creature, forever wrangling in court with Churchill and others, an inconsistent raging hypocritical pugilist just like his father.

It should be an Oscarism really, I can hear him say it now; 'Men turn into their fathers. That is their tragedy. Women never do. That is theirs.'

Or, as Queen Quentin put it more succinctly; Be yourself, no matter what they say.



Here is Oscar's grave. They say it is often covered in lipstick kisses.

http://www.mikeuk.com/images/france/mdp_paris5.jpg

Comments

[reverend2001.livejournal.com]

I've been to the grave, and it is indeed covered in lipstick kisses. Once a month the paris cleaners make it clean again - and then they come back and kiss it all over again -



It's an incredible sight. Made better by the fact that Jim Morrison is around the corner.

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

What a fantastic photo! Cheers!

[bottomlescup.livejournal.com]

"anything that stops you expressing yourself is wrong; the only time I would say otherwise is when your self-expression requires that others do not have the same right or are deprived of the ability."

These are exactly the thoughts I felt but couldnt find the right words to express...it's like you plucked them out of my subconscious and put them clearly for me to see. :)

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

Glad to be helpful:-)

[jfs.livejournal.com]

When I visited Pere Lachase (sp?) one thing really struck me - the fans of Jim Morrison sprawl their devotion all around, vandalising the graves of those unfortunate enough to be buried by the Lizard King, making the area uncomfortable for those who are not there to worship a dead pop star.

Oscar Wilde's fans are more restrained, marking only his grave, and that only with lipstick or with ephemeral notes that blow away in the rain.

I would not like to be buried near to Jim Morrison. I think I would quite like Oscar's company though.

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

I hope to visit Pere Lachaise(sp? I don't know either) next time, and sit with the gentlemen for a while. I'll salute Jim with a grin, but for Oscar, flowers, an easily removed kiss and perhaps a note, if I could ever write something I wouldn't be embarrassed to have him read.

Then I'll hang around, languishing in poetry and melancholia and let it all blow away. My day will be ruined if it isn't raining!