1236Re: Lulu in The Guardian
- Jan 22, 2009Welllllll OK. But I'm only awarding half a point.
The wording in The Guardian implies she was Pabst's lover when she
went off to Germany, when in reality she didn't even know who he was
at the time.
Also, I think the word "lover" is in error anyway. The Tynan piece
seems to indicate a one-night performance, which I think defines a
"fling" rather than a romance.
But perhaps I'm splitting bobbed hairs.
--- In email@example.com, "das_imperator"
> --- In firstname.lastname@example.org, "ioracara"
> <ioracara@> wrote:
> > Interesting list, but a possible error in Brooksie's section. I have
> > never seen anything that suggests she and Pabst were lovers, and
> > especially in anything I've read that Louise wrote herself. What
> > this Rachel Millward pull that out of? Is there anything out there IZelli's."
> > missed that supports this?
> Not so much from a hat as from a helmet...
> From "The Girl in the Black Helmet" by Kenneth Tynan
> From the fattest of all her files, Brooks now pulled out a two-shot.
> Beaming in a cloche hat, she stands arm in arm with a stocky,
> self-possessed man in a homburg. He also wears steel-rimmed glasses, a
> bow tie, and a well-cut business suit; you would guess he was in his
> early forties. "Mr. Pabst," she said simply. "That was 1928, in
> Berlin, while we were making Pandora's Box. As I told you, I arrived
> with George Marshall, and Mr. Pabst hated him, because he kept me up
> all night, going round the clubs. A few weeks later, George went back
> to the States, and after that Mr. Pabst locked me up in my hotel when
> the day's shooting was finished. Everyone thought he was in love with
> me. On the rare evenings when I went to his apartment for dinner, his
> wife, Trudi, would walk out and bang the door. Mr. Pabst was a highly
> respectable man, but he had the most extraordinary collection of
> obscene stills in the world. He even had one of Sarah Bernhardt nude
> with a black-lace fan. Did you know that in the twenties it was the
> custom for European actresses to send naked pictures of themselves to
> movie directors? He had all of them. Anyway, I didn't have an affair
> with him in Berlin. In 1929, though, when he was in Paris trying to
> set up Prix de Beaut, we went out to dinner at a restaurant and I
> behaved rather outrageously. For some reason, I slapped a close friend
> of mine across the face with a bouquet of roses. Mr. Pabst was
> horrified. He hustled me out of the place and took me back to my
> hotel, where - what do I do? I'm in a terrific mood, so I decide to
> banish his disgust by giving the best sexual performance of my career.
> I jump into the hay and deliver myself to him body and soul. [Her
> voice is jubilant.] He acted as if he'd never experienced such a thing
> in his life. You know how men want to pin medals on themselves when
> they excite you? They get positively radiant. Next morning, Mr. Pabst
> was so pleased he couldn't see straight. That was why he postponed
> Prix de Beaut and arranged to make The Diary of a Lost Girl first. He
> wanted the affair to continue. But I didn't, and when I got to Berlin
> it was like Pandora's Box all over again, except that this time the
> man I brought with me was the Eskimo - my white headed boy from
> © Kenneth Tynan Estate
> This article originally appeared in The New Yorker in 1979.
> This text taken from: Show People: Profiles in Entertainment by
> Kenneth Tynan, published by Weidenfeld and Nicolson, London, 1980
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