Tomorrow is the 48th anniversary of the woman who is arguably the greatest legend - and tragic myth - in screen history. She has been dead for twelve years longer than she lived, yet she is omnipresent - in posters in store windows, on t-shirts, reincarnated in photo shoots by everyone from Charlize Theron to Scarlett Johannsen. A new “explosive” biography seems to emerge every several years, and a book of her own writings is due out this fall. Her image pops up on dresses by high end fashion houses such as Dolce and Gabbana and mass retailers like H&M.. Warhol’s prints of her are equally ubiquitous, and Madonna contributed to the immortality of Norma Jeane by recreating her most iconic moment “Material Girl”, a spoof on the scene in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes in which Lorelei Lee admonishes suitors who cannot provide her jewels that rival the indomitable sparkle of her eyes.
Friends of mine are quite familiar with what they may term my “Marilyn obsession”. And no doubt many ascribe it to her beauty, her glamour, the mystery that enshrouds her life - and tragic death. But to make Marilyn’s life into a Grimm’s fairy tale is to marginalize her accomplishments, her talent, her drive and her indomitable spirit. There seems to be a tendency to prefer “Marilyn Monroe, tragic victim” to “Marilyn Monroe, inimitable success”. And this, to me, is the greatest tragedy. What I write here is nothing new or groundbreaking. But it is the way I can best express my attachment to the woman who was, in a sense, truly miraculous.
Most Monroe fans know the generally accepted view of her life story - abandoned by her mentally ill mother, shipped from foster home to orphanage foster home, married off at sixteen to avoid going back to an orphanage, discovered as a model in a munitions factory and, after a series of failed attempts, shot to stardom in the film noir Niagara. The multitude of biographies I have read speak of her tumultuous marriage to Joe DiMaggio, her increasing use of sleeping pills to combat insomnia, and her dismay as the studio for which she worked - Fox - placed her in one movie after another as a witless, gold-digging blonde. The subsequent ill-fated marriage to Arthur Miller, her many miscarriages, her full-fledged addiction to a variety of prescription medications, what amounted arguably to gross negligence by the doctors in whose care she placed herself, her scandalous rumored affair with the Kennedys - her strange and untimely death - it seems a familiar story now, right?
And this fits nicely with the schema of Marilyn as Hapless Victim of a Cruel World. And yes, Marilyn was, in many ways, a victim - of a misogynistic society that did not believe a woman could be both sexy and intelligent, of the studios who underpaid her and discounted her talent and her drive, of the malfeasance of doctors who plied her with pills, of a medical community that at the time knew little about mental illness. But there was so much more than that tale of tragedy to Norma Jeane Mortensen Baker.
What many don’t know is that Marilyn left Hollywood in 1954 when she was at the height of her success. She walked out of a contract that committed her to what was practically the equivalent of indentured servitude (a general practice by the studios in those days). She moved to New York, where she studied at the Actor’s Studio and formed her own production company with her partner, photographer Milton Greene. Seated in the back of the class, usually without makeup, she yearned to learn and demanded no special privileges because of her movie star status. In fact, it was quite the hindrance, as most (undeservedly) thought her talentless and even ridiculous. She read poetry and literature to make up for her lack of schooling, for which she felt deeply ashamed. She befriended authors such as Carl Sandburg, Carson McCullers and Truman Capote. She wrote some truly beautiful poetry herself (which as previously mentioned will be released this fall in a book called Fragments. I have read some of her writing; it is remarkably poignant. The work of a sensitive human being who thought and reflected deeply about her life.)
Fox, the studio that had suspended her, eventually gave in and rewarded her with a more lucrative contract. She subsequently gave two of what many consider to be her best performances, in Bus Stop and The Prince and The Showgirl. Some Like It Hot, her most famous movie, followed, and finally The Misfits, a movie in which she plays not the character Roslyn Taber, but herself, raw and wounded yet still enchanted with the idea that there is something rattling yet wondrous about the concept of life.
For me, what is most remarkable about Marilyn Monroe masked her private pain to give the fans what she felt they deserved from her. As she once said:
“I knew I belonged to the public and to the world, not because I was talented or even beautiful, but because I had never belonged to anything or anyone else."
And Norma Jeane Baker knew how to give her public what it wanted. Even as she aspired to be a more serious actress, she was still compelled to present the image the perfectly glamourous and radiant Marilyn. I have read much on Marilyn Monroe, but I think Ayn Rand may have described it best when she said:
“To survive it and to preserve the kind of spirit she projected on the screen--the radiantly benevolent sense of life, which cannot be faked--was an almost inconceivable psychological achievement that required a heroism of the highest order. Whatever scars her past had left were insignificant by comparison.”
Yes, this is what I admire in Marilyn Monroe. The woman who, despite it all, retained an unshakeable faith in her dream. I must quote the brilliant biographer Sarah Churchwell here, who wrote, in what may be my favorite article about Marilyn Monroe:
“In the meantime, she kept chasing the promise of the green light: it receded before her, it eluded her, but no matter, she would run faster, try harder, and, “someday,” tomorrow … Aspirationalism in its purest form, that’s Marilyn Monroe—a greater Gatsby.”
Sources:
http://sarahchurchwell.blogspot.com/2010/06/happy-birthday-marilyn-part-2.html
http://www.capitalismmagazine.com/index.php?news=3247
