Grace Learns About Marilyn’s Troubles



Because Grace Goddard was now spending so much time at Marilyn Monroe’s home, Marilyn felt more freedom to share with her some of the problems she was having in her career. She was unhappy with Fox, she told her, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Grace, according to a later recollection, was clear in her advice. “You have to stand up for yourself, Norma Jeane,” she told her. “Don’t let them push you around.” Marilyn didn’t know if she could do it, she said, because Darryl Zanuck disliked her so much. He’d always believed that he was dealing with a stupid, very foolish actress, and she’d never been able to disabuse him of that opinion, no matter how hard she tried. She said that she’d hated every movie she’d made for him thus far because each one was “shit”—an exaggeration, obviously, but one made in the emotion of the moment. No matter the scope of her complaint, though, Grace was firm. She told Marilyn that she had come too far to let Zanuck push her around. “Don’t forget who you are,” she said. “Don’t forget where you came from.” Marilyn told her that there were times when she definitely wished she could forget, some of the past had been so bad, so painful. “But it brought you here,” Grace reminded her with a gentle smile. “And that’s not so bad now, is it?” Marilyn had to agree with her. It wasn’t so bad… most of the time. Grace was adamant, as always, that Marilyn was more powerful than she even realized. She’d already demonstrated such courage and spirit in her life—certainly now was not the time to stop. “You already have everything in you that you need,” she told Marilyn, echoing an integral aspect of Christian Science. “As you see yourself, so will others. Believe in yourself,” she concluded, “and others will follow.”

On June 1, Marilyn spent her twenty-seventh birthday with Grace, BeBe, and Bebe’s brother Fritz. That night, they called Gladys at Rock Haven. She didn’t realize it was Marilyn’s birthday. “I don’t remember giving birth to you,” she told her daughter. Then, unfortunately, she began to rant once again that she wanted her release from the sanitarium. If Marilyn and Grace really cared about her, they would see to it that she had her immediate freedom. The phone call ended badly, as most did with Gladys. Marilyn vowed never again to call her mother on her birthday, saying that she never wanted to have another birthday ruined such as her twenty-seventh.

At this time, Grace wrote to Berniece to tell her that all was as well as could be expected and that she had been organizing a filing system for Marilyn in order that she might keep track of her appointments (and, perhaps, not be late for them—though that wasn’t likely). “I really mean it when I say that next to President Eisenhower, she is next in line as far as the demands of her time are concerned,” Grace wrote of Marilyn. (And it’s interesting that she often referred to her as Marilyn. If even Grace sometimes was calling Norma Jeane by her new name, then the transformation had to be complete.) She also said that she and Marilyn spent a great deal of time trying to catch up on her fan mail, but to no avail. Regarding her health, Marilyn had earlier suggested that Grace open up to Berniece about her cancer. She had done that, and was happy about it. Now she told Berniece that she’d been to a doctor who told her the cancer was under control but that she would soon have to have a hysterectomy. She predicted that after she had it she would “feel human again.”

On June 26, Marilyn received an honor that probably meant more to her than any she’d received since becoming famous: her hand- and footprints in cement at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. The occasion was really a promotional event for Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, and Marilyn was joined by her costar Jane Russell for the ceremony; they wore matching white polka-dot dresses. She and Jane had become fast friends. “The biggest disappointment to her, though, was that Grace was too sick on this day to be able to accompany Marilyn,” said Wesley Miller from the law firm of Wright, Wright, Green & Wright. “Certainly, they both would have enjoyed the moment so much. Marilyn told me it seemed like just yesterday when Grace took her, as little Norma Jeane, to Grauman’s. She said she would place her small hands and feet into imprints left by the major stars of her youth as Grace stood behind her and watched. The two would go from one cement square to the next… and the next… each dedicated to a movie star who they had seen in motion pictures. Now, of course, Norma Jeane—as Marilyn Monroe—was in that same constellation of stars. In fact, she was a bigger star than many of the ones she and Grace once admired. For me, at the time, it was astonishing to consider how much she’d achieved, especially considering her unstable background. ‘This is as much for Aunt Grace as it is for me,’ she told me. ‘If it wasn’t for Aunt Grace, I don’t know where I would be, but I know it wouldn’t be where I am today.’ ”

Throughout July, Marilyn was ill with bronchial infections. Grace insisted on taking care of her. She would take the telephone out of Marilyn’s bedroom and bring it into the living room and bury it with pillows so Marilyn wouldn’t hear it ring and disturb her sleep. Then she would dutifully take all messages for her.

It was at around this time that Grace became alarmed because of Marilyn’s reliance on sleeping pills. She saw that Marilyn couldn’t sleep at night without them and that she couldn’t even take an afternoon nap unless she was medicated. Then there were the “uppers” Marilyn was taking to stay awake during the day after what she called “a sleeping pill hangover.” It was all too much, Grace decided. When she finally confronted Marilyn about it, Marilyn told her that she knew what she was doing, “and I’m very careful, Aunt Grace. I’ve been taking these things for at least ten years.” That was news to Grace. She also noticed that Marilyn was drinking—bourbon and soda—much more than she ever had in the past. Moreover, Marilyn believed that as a consequence of the stresses in her life, she was eating more and thus gaining weight. It’s true that she was a tad rounder at this time, but not much. However, every pound mattered when wearing those skin-baring gowns for which she was becoming so famous. At a loss as to what to do, she began using colonic irrigation—basically, enemas. If she had to get into a dress that she didn’t think would fit, she would endure as many enemas as it would take to squeeze into it Eventually, she would succeed, too; she could actually lose inches in just a day. Though it was an extremely dangerous way to control one’s weight, Marilyn would swear by it for the rest of her life. This was almost more than Grace could process. In fact, she didn’t believe it was true. As it happened, Wesley Miller mentioned it to her when he dropped by to deliver some documents for Marilyn to sign. He said that Marilyn had confided in his wife that she was using enemas for the purpose of weight loss. “I simply have never heard of such a thing,” Grace told Miller. “Well, it’s true,” he said. “Ask Marilyn. I’m worried about it. It’s not good. Someone needs to talk to her about it.” Grace agreed. “I can’t believe that Joe would allow such a thing,” she said. Grace then called Berniece to ask her if she were aware of her half sister’s bad habits. “I never knew a thing about sleeping pills,” Berniece said. “And bourbon? It just can’t be! Not Norma Jeane. It makes me wonder what else we don’t know.” *

Загрузка...