Wednesday 17th November 2010

Something’s not right. I’ve been troubled. I find I must veer from the suggestion in my last posting that Poor Little Rich Gays are unfortunate, if not warped, people who don’t love people, nasty.

That’s the Earls Court Gays, with whom the PLRGs are easily confused, even by me, their chronicler. The Earls’ Court Gays set their gorgeous bleached teeth against hurt and muddle. At the first sign of trouble they ‘move on’. Cliché is their harbour.

But most Earls Court Gays turn out to be Poor Little Rich Gays on closer examination – who are braver. For even the most extreme there is one person at least who is allowed to be indispensible, although it might not be exactly the one you’d expect.

I am myself a Modernist as well as an Austenite. To be known and understood absolutely as you are, what is intolerable or rather marvellous or simultaneously intolerable and marvellous, is a rare thing. Few have it, despite much romance.

Whatever their suffering and peculiarity, Poor Little Rich Gays have one great consolation. They do not flinch, neither from themselves nor anything else. They see, or strive to. Is this why they have the gift of friendship, more often than not?

Come back tomorrow: I’ve been buying china and visiting Strawberry Hill.