And so I finally came to appreciate Norman Mailer in my mid-40ies, if earlier I was just vaguely familiar with his name.
Excuse my ignorance but in my other, previous life I used to confuse several similar sounding authors into one, now I clearly can tell this is Norman Mailer and I actually truly enjoy his writing. The discovery started with "Gospel according to Son" which was thrilling. I had even purchased "Castle in the Forest" for a future enjoyment. And now, just as I am very slowly going trough another Umberto Eco novel, Marilyn biography has caught my eye and I finished it with a biggest interest before I even became aware that I am sucked into it. Excellent.
Sure, Mailer sounds obsessed - but how can one otherwise be inspired if not obsessed? Is it not in a heat of the inspiration that we write trough sleepless nights while little wheels are turning inside our head, with a steam floating above opened lid? Mailer was a hot blooded male, for sure, not just a little bit jealous on her husbands and lovers, fantasizing about Monroe in the darkness of the cinema, just like thousands of other guys. In fact, just today one of my work colleagues grunted with audible approval upon seeing Monroe's face on some advertisement, her sex appeal frozen in time forever, like a mosquito in Amber. Just as we think we know everything about her - and who actually knows anything at all about anybody? - here is a writer who is not just a gossip collector or a amateur psychiatrist but a very talented author taking me by surprise with phrases like "When the wings of insanity beat so near, one pays attention to a feather" (talking about life coincidences that make perfect sense from a future perspective) . Oh man, this is so much different that one's run-of-the-mill paperback biographers, this is actually someone who has a gift and something to say (no matter how unusual it does sound sometimes). I am very impressed with Mailer's writing.
As for Monroe herself, to me she is here actually less important than the author himself. I am so impressed with Mailer that I would probably enjoy his writings about just anything.
She was simply too god in her sex bomb/pouting/eternally stupid blonde/walking sex toy role and nobody can convince me that she was a intellectual somewhere behind all that cellophane. Very possibly troubled, lonely, abused and mentally unstable, she left a film legacy that is still a joy to watch, though memories of her colleagues are blood chilling in their disdain and reading about torture others had to go trough because Monroe was unable to remember one sentence ("Its me, Sugar") my blood pressure rises immediately - I would probably puke green, right in the middle of the movie set. Everything about her was self-destructive and on many occasions she seems to have been floating aimlessly, from town to town, from one house to another, from man to man, never satisfied or happy with herself. I am almost 100% sure that had she lived, she would turn into obese caricature of herself and her legend and legacy lives only because of early death that preserved her legend just as it started to crack a bit. Let's be honest here, 36 years old Monroe was not so hot as her younger self, the years of substance abuse were clearly showing on her last pictures - what we usually see today are carefully selected photographs from her glory days, when death stopped her in the tracks she was already on her way down. It is the supporting characters, like Simone Signoret or Arthur Miller himself who sound far more interesting to me. However, thanks to Norman Mailer, it is a fascinating read no matter how one looks at it.
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