Hannah Gadsby: Nanette Page #5

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Seventy percent of the

people who raised me,

who loved me, who I trusted,

believed that homosexuality was a sin,

that homosexuals were

heinous, sub-human pedophiles.

Seventy percent.

By the time I identified as

being gay, it was too late.

I was already homophobic,

and you do not get to just

flick a switch on that.

No, what you do is you

internalize that homophobia

and you learn to hate yourself.

Hate yourself to the core.

I sat soaking in shame...

in the closet, for ten years.

Because the closet can only

stop you from being seen.

It is not shame-proof.

When you soak a child in shame,

they cannot develop the neurological

pathways that carry thought...

you know, carry thoughts of self-worth.

They can't do that.

Self-hatred is only ever a

seed planted from outside in.

But when you do that to a child,

it becomes a weed so

thick, and it grows so fast,

the child doesn't know any different.

It becomes... as natural as gravity.

When I came out of the closet,

I didn't have any jokes.

The only thing I knew how to do

was to be invisible and hate myself.

It took me ten years to understand

I was allowed to take

up space in the world.

But, by then, I'd sealed it off

into jokes like it was no big deal.

I need to tell my story properly.

Because I paid dearly for a lesson

that nobody seems to

have wanted to learn.

And this is bigger...

than homosexuality.

This is about how we conduct debate

in public about sensitive things.

It's toxic, it's

juvenile, it's destructive.

We think it's more important to be right

than it is to appeal to the

humanity of people we disagree with.

Ignorance will always walk amongst us

because we will never

know all of the things.

I need to tell my story properly

because you learn from the part

of the story... you focus on.

Take Vincent.

Old mate... Vincent van Gogh.

The way we tell his

story... it's no good.

It's destructive. Because we've

reduced it to a tale of rags to riches.

He only sold one painting in his life.

You know? Now look at him.

"He's quite dead." Yeah,

but very successful!

Only sold one painting in his lifetime.

And people believe, with that story,

that Van Gogh was this

misunderstood genius.

You know, he was born ahead of his time.

What a load of sh*t.

Nobody is born ahead of their time.

It's impossible!

Nobody's born ahead of their time!

Maybe premmie babies, but they catch up!

Artists don't invent zeitgeists!

They respond to it.

He was not ahead of his time. He

was a Post-Impressionist painter,

painting at the peak

of Post-Impressionism,

while Peter was picking

his pickled pepper.

He wasn't born ahead of his time.

He couldn't network.

'Cause he was mental.

He was... crazy. He had unstable energy.

People would cross the

street to avoid him.

That's why he didn't sell any more

than one painting in his lifetime.

He couldn't network.

This whole idea, this romanticizing

of mental illness, is ridiculous.

It is not a ticket to genius.

It's a ticket to f***ing nowhere.

And artists are not these incredible,

you know, mythical creatures

that exist outside of the world.

No, artists have always been

very much part of the world,

and very... very firmly

attached to power.

Always. Power and money,

art is always there.

Right back to the Renaissance.

Oh, the Turtles? All of them.

All of them, they knew how to network.

Leonardo?

Raphael?

Donatello?

They're right up there, painting

their own business cards, schmoozing.

Michelangelo was a bit

difficult, he was a bit... crazy.

But, you know, he still networked.

He gave gobbies to the Pope.

Kissed his ring. Literally. But...

I think it's a shame that art

history is such an elitist sport.

It taught me a lot, you know.

Useless... as far as a

money-earner's concerned,

but I learned a lot about the

world because of art history.

I understand this world very well.

I understand the world I live

in... because of art history.

I understand the world I

live in and my place in it.

And I don't have one.

And do you know how

much time that saved me?

I'm quite old, but look at the skin!

That's 'cause I haven't wasted

time looking... for how I fit in.

I don't.

A lot of naps.

Art history taught me there's

only ever been two types of women.

A virgin or a whore.

Most people think that

Miley Cyrus and Taylor

Swift invented that binary,

but it's been going

on thousands of years.

There's only ever been two options

for a little girl to grow up into.

Virgin or whore. We were

always given a choice.

Take your pick. Ladies'

choice! That's the trick.

The patriarchy, it's not a

dictatorship. Take your choice!

And I don't fit very neatly

into either of those categories.

Virgin or whore?

I mean, on a technicality,

I'd get virgin.

I know.

Do you know, if you go into a

gallery with ye olde paintings there,

there's a lot of evidence to suggest

that women have existed

for a very long time.

Longer than clothes.

But not this masculine,

off-center, lesbian situation here.

And I... Art history

taught me,you know,

I look at these history women

and I don't feel like

I'm the same species.

There's a lot of things that I do,

and it's not an identity construction.

No, I've... Just

things happen naturally.

And art history taught me that

these things are not really the place

of a woman, you know?

One of the things I do,

I can generate thoughts in

my own brain... unprompted.

I can do that, all the time!

Had another one. They just

come all the time, and...

Art history taught me, you know,

historically, women didn't have

time for the think-thoughts.

They were too busy napping,

naked, alone, in the forest.

Even biologically... I don't

feel like I'm the same species.

For a start, I've got a

functioning skeletal system.

If you go into the galleries,

you see, if a woman's not

sporting a corset and/or a hymen...

she just loses all structure.

Just sort of like...

Just flopping about all

over the place, going,

"Oh, what does, furniture?"

Sidesaddle, tits akimbo.

No wonder we can't reverse park, ladies!

Dumb history women couldn't even

reverse park their arse onto a chair!

Another thing I do

that's not very ladylike

is every day I seem to be able to

finish the getting of the dressed.

Every day!

Not a problem. All the

buttons, all the way up.

I'm quite a vague and

forgetful person, but...

Seem to do it quite easily.

Especially if I'm leaving the

house to get my portrait painted.

Never once have I thought,

"You know what, today,

I must just leave a cheeky one out."

High art.

I'm going to call it, guys.

Bullshit.

High art, my arse.

The history of western art is just

the history of men painting women

like they're flesh vases

for their dick flowers.

Having... said that,

I think I've ruined any chance

of getting a job in a gallery now.

I mean, I could pay to

be a volunteer guide.

'Cause it doesn't get any better

with modern art, I tell you.

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