A friend wrote this one month ago.  Today, with the Full Moon coming, it seemed safe to re-read.

“I still think about that summer we all spent together. Do you remember when we all sat in Nev’s room and watched the film he made of all of us at the pool?  I remember he projected it on the wall next to his bed and played “Every Day is Like Sunday,” by Morrissey. I remember someone said, “it’s like we’re all dead…” Ironically, Nev was the only one not in the film. I love that song but still have a hard time listening to it. God, I am sooo melancholy today…full moon is coming… Be well my friend”

Here is what I wrote back:

“Nev used to come to LA for certain pop-culture must-sees like Coachella and The Smiths Convention.  And I always felt like his “beard” at these things because once he got there he would ditch me to go buy cool merchandise!!! Can you picture that??? 

SMITHS Convention in Pasadena. Nev gets ready ALL MORNING and is SO MAD that I am not ready yet. He said, “Jen’s cats are just like mama…stay up all night and sleep all day…”

We finally get there and it is PACKED!!! We wait in line and once inside the Pasadena Convention Center EVERYONE makes a mad rush for the middle where all the booths are. I begin to speak to Nev so we can PLAN our stroll around and he is GONE like a gunshot! I can see him disappearing like Buddha amongst the goth kids!!!!!!

Needless to say he turned up a few hours later, completely satisfied with his tshirt, magazine and vinyl purchases and ready to go!! With me driving of course   Later, I drive him all over the valley in search of Morrissey’s home. We also see Morrissey at the first Coachella. At night’s end, in the parking lot we begin arguing. I can’t remember the argument, just the resolution which sounded like this:
JH: “Nev, this is not even an issue anymore.”
NT: “Yes, Jenn, this is a non-issue!! A total NON-ISSUE!”
JH: “This was never an issue in the first place”
NT: “Right, Jen, this is a total fucking non-issue!”
This carries on until 2am as we drive back to LA and of course Nev HAS TO stop for fast food. “I’ll treat” he says.

To this day I have dreams that Nev and I have been talking and I wake up and it’s 5 AM and I realize that I have been crying in my sleep. Those are the times that I get that he is really gone and not just living in SF where I can’t see him this year but will see him next time. The no next time is the hardest part.”

Those whom we have loved and lost never really leave us.  They are in our hearts and minds forever.  Especially during the Full Moon and Autumn and on days that feel like Sundays…

Just for today, since I am still giddy over finally meeting the man, I thought I would post Roger Ebert’s letter to Werner Herzog, originally posted on WH’s website: www.wernerherzog.com, in November 2007. 

WH dedicated Encounters At The End Of The World to his dear friend Roger and this letter succinctly captures so much of what I (and assumedly other fans) appreciate about Werner Herzog and his lifelong dedication to miraculous storytelling on film.  I hope I am not in violation of copyright by promoting this letter and passing it on.  It is a letter I wish that all Hollywood directors would read.

It wasn’t a hard sell.  If you couldn’t be a lady yourself, you were still taught how to appreciate one. 

She defined “Democrat”, “Patriot”, “American” and was most of all, the “First Lady”.  The last one. 

I think of her daily because of one thing she said:  ”If you bungle raising your children, nothing else much matters in life.”

Below, a reminder of all that we are missing and all that generations of American youth to come will never know:

Stratten’s last moments were of torture and disfigurement through violent sodomy.  An autopsy revealed that Stratten’s left index fingertip had been shot off.  So it was apparent that the last gesture Dorothy attempted was to shield her face.

A vivacious Dorothy speaking to Johnny Carson.  A bit eerie, now, to hear Dorothy’s references to Snider:

1984: Peter Bogdanovich’s tribute to Dorothy, THE KILLING OF THE UNICORN is published.  Bogdanovich planned to marry Stratten before she was murdered.

The KILLING OF THE UNICORN turns Dorothy’s story into a modern feminist fable.  Although the book is out-of-print, it’s not just for fans of Peter Bogdanovich – some might deem it now as essential (and suprisingly overlooked) pro-feminist literature.  If you can find it, read it!

1985: Peter Bogdanovich’s directorial career is revived with the success of MASK.  Cher would receive critical acclaim for her portrayal of real-life heroine Rusty Dennis. 

The making of MASK:

Bogdanovich wrote that the Dorothy he knew was scholarly by nature; he describes a trip to a bookstore where she is attracted to a biography of THE ELEPHANT MAN. 

Standing next to her as she thumbed through it, Bogdanovich admits he could hardly keep his eyes on the grotesque pictures of John Merrick. 

How Bogdanovich could evolve from “barely keeping his eyes on Merrick” to directing a tale inspired by Rusty and Rocky Dennis is fascinating. 

Bogdanovich theorized that Dorothy could understand the Elephant Man because both she and Merrick had been judged primarily on externals; their inner spirits were totally obscured by other people’s perceptions of their physicality.  And they had both been “hunted”.

Perhaps this epiphany was Bodganovich’s inspiration for wanting to illuminate Rocky Dennis’s affliction on the big screen.  MASK would go on to become one of the best reviewed films of the 80’s.  The title itself is purely poetic.

Dorothy’s grave in Westwood Memorial:

A loyal fan devotes an entire website to her: http://www.dorothystratten.com/

Indeed, the ”trophy” Snider “discovered” and then slaughtered has a fan base stronger than ever.  28 years later, Dorothy supporters, some old, some new, continue to post collages like the one below on YouTube:

If you visit the home of Marilyn Merlot, http://www.marilynwines.com, you will find an assortment of collectible and highly “quaffable” vinos: Marilyn Cabernet, Norma Jeane, The Velvet Collection and the most recent addition, Blonde De Noirs, all guaranteed to make any Marilyn fan smile.

From their website: “Marilyn Wines traces its origins to 1981, when a small group of friends started making wine at their home near St. Helena, in Napa Valley. One evening in 1983, over dinner and a bottle of homemade Merlot, the concept of “Marilyn Merlot” was born. The wine enjoyed a good deal of popularity around the valley and was often donated to charity auctions and given as Christmas gifts.

In 1985, the playful idea and the fine wine that bore its name led to the limited production of Marilyn Merlot for sale to the public. Over the years, continuing acclaim from critics, collectors, and lovers of fine wine have led to the production of Marilyn Cabernet, Norma Jeane wines, the Velvet Collection wines, and our eighteenth vintage of Marilyn Merlot.

Marilyn Wines holds an exclusive agreement with the estate of Marilyn Monroe for the use of the name and the images. The royalties paid are distributed according to Marilyn’s will to Anna Strasberg who helps support the Lee Strasberg Theater Institute and to the Anna Freud Foundation in London, which has set up a special child treatment center called the Monroe Young Family Center.”

What would make Marilyn herself smile: The Monroe Young Family Center is devoted to serious therapy for children who have been victims of abuse.  Marilyn would probably have been overjoyed by this unique allocation of the considerable proceeds from her images.

Pairing a bottle or two of Marilyn Wines with any one of Marilyn’s films is always festive!

Below, a taste of her finest work:

And some of the bubbly:

Footage of MM just seems to age better than clips of anybody else:

Mondo Marilyn week ends with a look at MM at her most effervescent! 

Cheers, Marilyn!

June (the month of Marilyn’s birth) and August (her death) always finds MM fans returning to Westwood Memorial, where Marilyn Monroe’s crypt can easily be found.  It is as you would imagine, covered in lipstick, from all the fans who have kissed it, and dense with flowers that are delivered year-round.  For whatever reasons, and despite being criticized as corny, people still feel compelled, 46 years after her death, to say goodbye to Norma Jeane. 

August 8th, 1962: Joe DiMaggio invited only 24 other guests to Monroe’s service. 

In attendance were: Joe DiMaggio, Jr., Agnes Flanagan, Aaron Frosch, Lotte Goslar, Dan and Joan Greenson and children, Dr. Ralph Greenson and his wife Hildi, Sidney Guilaroff, Anne Karger, Mary Karger, Rudy Kautzsky, Enid and Sam Knebelcamp, Pat and Inez Melson, Mrs. Bernice Miracle, Mrs Eunice Murray, Pearl Porterfield, Pat Newcomb, May Reis, Ralph Roberts, Milton Rudin, Sherry Snyder, Whitey and Beverly Snyder, George Solotaire, Lee and Paula Strasberg, Florence Thomas.

Her pallbearers: Alan Abbott, Sidney Guilaroff, Ronald Hast, Leonard Krisminsky, Clarence Pierce and Whitey Snyder. 

It is entirely true that after her service, Joe began sending red roses to her crypt and continued to do so every week for the next twenty years. 

Here, Lee Strasberg’s dignified eulogy; Lee describes the MM personna as only a close friend and acting coach could:

Although MM was actually interred on August 8th, I went on the 5th as usual this year, at 8pm, for a quick “hello and goodbye” to the woman who was entirely responsible for my move to Los Angeles in the first place.  It took all of five minutes to visit and depart, long enough to kiss her crypt quickly, like the Blarney Stone, and leave a lip print alongside the others.   This year was the first time Lyric understood what Marilyn was all about and wanted to see her crypt, but Lyric had been sick all day and the decision to take her was a huge dispensation; an outing made as speedily as possible.  Usually we take yellow roses.  This visit, there was no time to stop for flowers or any kind of formal offering.  Someone else had thought to send MM a giant heart shaped out of pink roses with yellow lilies at the center and Lyric was absolutely enchanted when she saw it. 

When I consider all of the MM fans around the world who travel far and wide to visit her crypt, her star on the Walk of Fame and to stay in the Marilyn Room at the Hollywood Roosevelt which is usually booked months in advance, I think of how easy I have it – living just twenty minutes from each landmark – and in what good company I’m in.

Some famous mourners who didn’t think it was corny to write about their impressions of Marilyn Monroe:

Joe Elliott of Def Leppard

And Sir Elton John

It is often said that the bigger the lie, the more people will believe it.  In Marilyn Monroe’s case, this seems to be the rule instead of the exception; the public is repeatedly asked to endure endless accounts of the schizoid Norma Jeane/Marilyn myth while her real and more substantial passions are often ignored. 

There isn’t any money to be made in suggesting that Marilyn was actually a multifaceted and talented career woman whose “madness” was probably a reaction to the shortcomings of the men who controlled her opportunities in that pre-women’s lib era in which she struggled to survive.  I find it curious that of all the books that have been published on Monroe, even the ones that profess to defend her, none of them have donated their sales to the Los Angeles Children’s Home in Hollywood, the orphanage synonymous with that infamous tale of the sad childhood of Norma Jeane. 

I wonder if it would surprise people to know that Marilyn considered herself a natural horticulturalist – she subscribed to gardening magazines and used her talent for horticulture as therapy, especially during the last period of her life, when she occupied her Brentwood home.  This Giant Marilyn Garden Art Wall from last month’s Singapore Garden Festival would have delighted her.

Walt Disney, the man who imagined, and then made real, an entire universe synonymous with the young at heart the world over was so enamoured of Marilyn’s effervesence that he insisted the character of Tinkerbell be fashioned after her.  Unlike the exaggerated Barbie doll, Tinkerbell’s proportions are entirely Monroe’s. According to Wikipedia, Disney’s animated version of Tinker Bell is one of the most important branding icons for the The Walt Disney Company, generally known as “a symbol of ‘the Magic of Disney’”.

Marilyn’s greatest and overlooked passion, that of equality and human rights, is finally being explored, thanks to the recollections and gratitude of Ella Fitzgerald. 

Here Bonnie Greer, a playwright and Actors Studio alum talks about her play, MARILYN AND ELLA, which focuses on Marilyn’s support of the Civil Rights Movement

“I owe Marilyn Monroe a real debt,” Ella Fitzgerald would muse. “It was because of her that I played the Mocambo, a very popular nightclub in the ’50s. She personally called the owner of the Mocambo, and told him she wanted me booked immediately, and if he would do it, she would take a front table every night. She told him – and it was true, due to Marilyn’s superstar status – that the press would go wild. The owner said yes, and Marilyn was there, front table, every night. The press went overboard. After that, I never had to play a small jazz club again. She was an unusual woman – a little ahead of her times. And she didn’t know it.”

One of the most intelligent and poignant tributes to Marilyn came, not from me (I wish) but from the great Objectivist herself, Ayn Rand. 

I can always remember being really frustrated with my first and constant attempts to defend Marilyn as one of the greatest inspirations of the Twentieth Century.  People dismissed it as my quirk, or a need to identify with a tragic heroine.  That wasn’t it at all.  I never found her tragic.  The misinterpretations of her art is what was tragic!   

When I first discovered Marilyn Monroe her humanity hit me like the proverbial lightning bolt and I struggled through memorabilia and essays to try to succintly express what it was about her that moved me.  I would write about her to my intellectual friends only to be dismissed with a snobbish “Who is this?  Writing about Marilyn Monroe?” 

To this short-sighted bunch I proudly present Ayn Rand’s tribute to Monroe. 

No one could have paid better fealty to MM.  I laugh, because if anyone but Rand had made these observations (me, for instance) I doubt anyone one would have taken them seriously.  46 years later, Rand’s look at Monroe speaks to a culture of mediocrity that’s even more insidious than it was back in 1962.  The inspirational value of analyzing this is made entirely possible by the perennial fragility of Marilyn Monroe.   

MARILYN MONROE: THROUGH YOUR MOST GRIEVOUS FAULT

by Ayn Rand

This commentary, excerpted from The Voice of Reason, was originally published two weeks after Marilyn Monroe’s death on August 5, 1962.

The death of Marilyn Monroe shocked people with an impact different from their reaction to the death of any other movie star or public figure. All over the world, people felt a peculiar sense of personal involvement and of protest, like a universal cry of “Oh, no!”

They felt that her death had some special significance, almost like a warning which they could not decipher–and they felt a nameless apprehension, the sense that something terribly wrong was involved.

They were right to feel it.

Marilyn Monroe on the screen was an image of pure, innocent, childlike joy in living. She projected the sense of a person born and reared in some radiant utopia untouched by suffering, unable to conceive of ugliness or evil, facing life with the confidence, the benevolence, and the joyous self-flaunting of a child or a kitten who is happy to display its own attractiveness as the best gift it can offer the world, and who expects to be admired for it, not hurt.

In real life, Marilyn Monroe’s probable suicide–or worse: a death that might have been an accident, suggesting that, to her, the difference did not matter–was a declaration that we live in a world which made it impossible for her kind of spirit, and for the things she represented, to survive.

If there ever was a victim of society, Marilyn Monroe was that victim–of a society that professes dedication to the relief of the suffering, but kills the joyous.

None of the objects of the humanitarians’ tender solicitude, the juvenile delinquents, could have had so sordid and horrifying a childhood as did Marilyn Monroe.

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.

She preserved her vision of life through a nightmare struggle, fighting her way to the top. What broke her was the discovery, at the top, of as sordid an evil as the one she had left behind–worse, perhaps, because incomprehensible. She had expected to reach the sunlight; she found, instead, a limitless swamp of malice.

It was a malice of a very special kind. If you want to see her groping struggle to understand it, read the magnificent article in the August 17, 1962, issue of Life magazine. It is not actually an article, it is a verbatim transcript of her own words–and the most tragically revealing document published in many years. It is a cry for help, which came too late to be answered.

“When you’re famous, you kind of run into human nature in a raw kind of way,” she said. “It stirs up envy, fame does. People you run into feel that, well, who is she–who does she think she is, Marilyn Monroe? They feel fame gives them some kind of privilege to walk up to you and say anything to you, you know, of any kind of nature–and it won’t hurt your feelings–like it’s happening to your clothing. . . . I don’t understand why people aren’t a little more generous with each other. I don’t like to say this, but I’m afraid there is a lot of envy in this business.”

“Envy” is the only name she could find for the monstrous thing she faced, but it was much worse than envy: it was the profound hatred of life, of success and of all human values, felt by a certain kind of mediocrity–the kind who feels pleasure on hearing about a stranger’s misfortune. It was hatred of the good for being the good–hatred of ability, of beauty, of honesty, of earnestness, of achievement and, above all, of human joy.

Read the Life article to see how it worked and what it did to her:

An eager child, who was rebuked for her eagerness–”Sometimes the [foster] families used to worry because I used to laugh so loud and so gay; I guess they felt it was hysterical.”

A spectacularly successful star, whose employers kept repeating: “Remember you’re not a star,” in a determined effort, apparently, not to let her discover her own importance.

A brilliantly talented actress, who was told by the alleged authorities, by Hollywood, by the press, that she could not act.

An actress, dedicated to her art with passionate earnestness–”When I was 5–I think that’s when I started wanting to be an actress–I loved to play. I didn’t like the world around me because it was kind of grim–but I loved to play house and it was like you could make your own boundaries”–who went through hell to make her own boundaries, to offer people the sunlit universe of her own vision–”It’s almost having certain kinds of secrets for yourself that you’ll let the whole world in on only for a moment, when you’re acting”–but who was ridiculed for her desire to play serious parts.

A woman, the only one, who was able to project the glowingly innocent sexuality of a being from some planet uncorrupted by guilt–who found herself regarded and ballyhooed as a vulgar symbol of obscenity–and who still had the courage to declare: “We are all born sexual creatures, thank God, but it’s a pity so many people despise and crush this natural gift.”

A happy child who was offering her achievement to the world, with the pride of an authentic greatness and of a kitten depositing a hunting trophy at your feet–who found herself answered by concerted efforts to negate, to degrade, to ridicule, to insult, to destroy her achievement–who was unable to conceive that it was her best she was punished for, not her worst–who could only sense, in helpless terror, that she was facing some unspeakable kind of evil.

How long do you think a human being could stand it?

That hatred of values has always existed in some people, in any age or culture. But a hundred years ago, they would have been expected to hide it. Today, it is all around us; it is the style and fashion of our century.

Where would a sinking spirit find relief from it?

The evil of a cultural atmosphere is made by all those who share it. Anyone who has ever felt resentment against the good for being the good and has given voice to it, is the murderer of Marilyn Monroe.

“I found Marilyn to be one of the great talents of all time… She struck me as being a much brighter person than I had ever imagined, and I think that was the first time I learned that intelligence and, yes brilliance have nothing to do with education.”  – Joshua Logan, Director of BUS STOP

It’s become a tradition.  Every year since I became a fan of hers, the week of August 5th (the day of MM’s death) finds me on a pilgrimage to not only defend the memory of Marilyn Monroe but to prove the myriad of educational reasons why. 

At the most primitive level, Marilyn represents an archetype of femininity.  We can study her place in society and use her life on and off the silver screen to make many critical feminist observations. 

As artists we can study her Craft, her sensitivity and the processes she incorporated to arrive at the ethereal results, results that have stood the test of time for decades longer than her contemporaries. 

As an icon of the Twentieth Century we can study her personal life and her interior world - if Marilyn was so dumb, so cheesy, so crazy, so hapless, so inordinately lucky then why was she defended by other well-respected icons of her day?  Why would people like Ayn Rand, Lee Strasberg, Arthur Miller, Carl Sandburg, Montgomery Clift and Laurence Olivier bother to defend her talent? 

On the most superficial level, we see in Marilyn the quest for fame and fortune and the obsessions the American public still has with it.  Consider all the millions of beautiful women who flock to Hollywood every year, who have studied the Monroe formula, who have surgically altered their figures in order to emulate her physical perfection; why is the Monroe phenomenon still unattainable?  Why is she STILL singularly immortal? 

When we examine Monroe it’s possible to witness some sort of sublime transcendence – no less important than a masterpiece in the Smithsonian and no less remarkable than a work of fiction or prose or less valuable than Einstein or Mother Teresa.  This experience, of course, is worth defending. 

Naturally, as a Witch who finds great inspiration in the archetypes of the Goddess, Marilyn, the ideal of the feminine mystique, is a constant source of fascination. 

Mondo Marilyn week is presented here as a dignified Monroe 101; a perspective on MM’s genius (an accolade that still inexplicably seems denied to her).   We begin today by studying her best film and still photography.

1961’s THE MISFITS, directed by John Huston, is finally claiming it’s due; re-examinations hail it as one of the greatest American films ever made.  Here Marilyn holds her own alongside the formidable Clark Gable, Montgomery Clift and Eli Wallach, in the clip that not only speaks to her humanity but should have earned her first Academy Award nomination. 

One of the most progressive themes of THE MISFITS, that of animal rights, is often missed.  What’s also missed is that Arthur Miller, who penned the role of Mrs Tabor for his then wife, named his protagonist Roslyn; Roslyn or Rosslyn Chapel is synonymous with the Holy Grail, for it was under Rosslyn Chapel, that the Grail was said to be hidden.  Could Arthur Miller have been hinting that Marilyn, as Roslyn, is the supreme feminine, the Holy Grail herself?  Despite their differences in temperament, Miller would always remark that Marilyn was “the most womanly woman I can imagine…” 

Echoing Miller’s observation were the greatest photographers of the Twentieth Century; men who had known the greatest female stars intimately and who could easily have been desensitized to their subjects were still dumbfounded by Marilyn’s luminosity. 

“I saw her bodily for the first time and I was struck by an apparition in a fairy tale” said Henri Cartier Bresson.

“Once she was ready to be photographed, she would surpass the expectations of the lens. She had a shimmering quality like an emanation of water, and she moved lyrically.” – Inge Morath

Here she is in a montage created by a fan of Milton Greene, the photographer who collaborated with Marilyn when she became the first female mega-star to start her own production company.  Greene’s Marilyns are often lauded as the only bohemian glimpses of the real MM.  As with all YouTube photo collages, one must turn the sound down in order to separate a study of the images from the accompanying (often maudlin) songs. This one’s not so bad…

“There was no such person as Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn Monroe was an invention of hers. A genius invention that she created, like an author creates a character. So when Marilyn Monroe put on a sequin dress and danced in the studio—I mean for hours she danced and sang and flirted, and did this thing. There is no describing what she did, she did Marilyn Monroe… And then there was the inevitable drop because she was someone who went very high up and very way down. And when night was over, she sat in the corner like a child with everything gone. But I wouldn’t photograph her without her knowledge of it. And as I came with the camera, I saw that she was not saying no.” – Richard Avedon

Below, an Avedon collage that captures the diversity of Marilyn’s artistic range, when she was given the opportunity to pose as Jean Harlow, Clara Bow, Theda Bara, Marlene Dietrich and Lilian Russell.  Again, you can turn the song down to prevent distraction from the images. 

“She gave more to the still camera than any actress, any woman I’ve ever photographed; infinitely more patient, more demanding of herself and more comfortable in front of the camera than away from it.”

Tomorrow: Ayn Rand on MM…

Before I get too crazy on the Leo Birthdays this month (this is the last I’ll post, I SWEAR), I have to give props to Geddy Lee who is only 55 today.

Geddy Lee, or Gary Lee Weinreb, is often lauded as the world’s most famous Jewish rock musician. Born in Toronto on July 29, 1953, Geddy’s parents were survivors of the Shoah, which affected him greatly. 

Along with Alex Lifeson and Neal Peart, Geddy is considered a true musician’s musician; RUSH fans (most of them bookworms) have stood by the band for decades.  RUSH was one of the first and the few bands to kick off the hard rock/prog rock revolution; rarely do they get enough props by the mainstream for their far-reaching influence on an entire genre of musicians. 

When asked for his definition of the term prog rock, Lee replied (to a Canadian fan’s online interview), “Nothing to do with politics! In the context of rock music, progressive means ‘willing to move beyond the limitations of [genre]‘, in particular a willingness to experiment with odd and variable time signatures, unusual harmonies, often inspired by classical music and jazz. YES and GENESIS were archetypal progressive rock bands; one could call RUSH progressive hard rock; STEELY DAN could be called progressive pop but is so firmly rooted in jazz that most people call their work jazz-pop; and DREAM THEATER is probably the #1 progressive metal band out there.  If somebody were to ask me the difference between art and progressive I would say that art rock generally put extramusical artistic influences and pretensions before the music (e.g. the VELVET UNDERGROUND and to a much lesser extent PINK FLOYD) while progressive rock’s primary aspiration was taking rock music out of its musical straight-jacket.”

Thanks to Geddy Lee and company, who did indeed take us out of those straight jackets.  It’s strange that I rarely meet women who are hardcore RUSH fans.  Maybe that will change in future.  I sometimes wonder if, one hundred years from now, if it takes that long for women to learn how to ride the lightning, women will take over the prog rock genre to the point that no one will remember when men were the dominant rockers. 

Below, LIMELIGHT live sounding every bit as great as the studio version…  Hurry up and watch this before it disappears from YouTube.  TOM SAWYER is also added as a bonus (couldn’t find SUBDIVISIONS…).  Hoping you’ll revisit these lyrics and see how relevant they are right now…