My Story Read online

  my

  story

  my

  story

  ILLUSTRATED EDITION

  MARILYN MONROE, with BEN HECHT

  Foreword by JOSHUA GREENE

  First Taylor Trade Publishing edition 2007

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review.

  All text in this volume © 2007 Joshua Greene

  All previous editions of My Story © 1974 Milton H. Greene

  All photographs © 2007 Joshua Greene

  No part of the text or photographs in this book can be used in part or in whole without written consent from The Archives, LLC or Joshua Greene

  2610 Kingwood Street Suite #3, Florence, Oregon 97439

  t# 541-997-5331 fx# 541-997-5795 www.archiveimages.com [email protected]

  Limited rights for this edition are licensed as per contract to Taylor Trade Publishing

  Published by Taylor Trade Publishing

  An imprint of The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc.

  4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706

  Distributed by NATIONAL BOOK NETWORK

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Monroe, Marilyn, 1926–1962.

  My story / Marilyn Monroe with Ben Hecht. — Illustrated ed., 1st Taylor Trade Publishing ed.

  p. cm.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-58979-316-3 (cloth : alk. paper)

  ISBN-10: 1-58979-316-1 (cloth : alk. paper)

  1. Monroe, Marilyn, 1926–1962. 2. Motion picture actors and actresses—United States—Biography. I. Hecht, Ben, 1893–1964. II. Title.

  PN2287.M69A35 2007

  791.4’02’8092—dc22

  [B]

  2006017455

  The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials,

  ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  contents

  Foreword, Joshua Greene

  1.

  How I Rescued a White Piano

  2.

  My First Sin

  3.

  It Happened in Math Class

  4.

  I Branch Out as a Siren

  5.

  Marriage Knell

  6.

  Lonely Streets

  7.

  Another Soldier Boy

  8.

  I Begin a New Dream

  9.

  Higher, Higher, Higher

  10.

  I Get Through the Looking Glass

  11.

  How I Made a Calendar

  12.

  I Jump Through the Paper Hoop

  13.

  I Didn’t Like Parties but I Liked Mr. Schenck

  14.

  The Police Enter My Life

  15.

  The Bottom of the Ocean

  16.

  My First Love

  17.

  I Buy a Present

  18.

  I See the World

  19.

  I Become a Cause

  20.

  Up–and Down Again

  21.

  Back to 20th

  22.

  About Men

  23.

  About Women

  24.

  Another Love Affair Ends

  25.

  Johnny Dies

  26.

  I’ll Be Smart—Tomorrow

  27.

  My Joan Crawford “Feud”

  28.

  My Fight with Hollywood

  29.

  Why I Am a Hollywood Misfit

  30.

  My Own Recipe for Fame

  31.

  A Gentleman from Center Field

  32.

  Bosom Tempest

  33.

  A Wise Man Opens My Eyes

  34.

  I Marry Joe

  35.

  Korean Serenade

  foreword

  My father, Milton H. Greene, passed away in 1985. Though he was a successful New York–based fashion and portrait photographer, credited with over 150 covers and thousands of editorial pages, he’s remembered best for the body of work he created with Marilyn Monroe from 1953 to 1957.

  Milton met Marilyn in the fall of 1953 on an assignment for Look magazine. They had an immediate, relaxed rapport and, like two children in a sandbox, began to create images together with playful abandon. A close and endearing friendship quickly grew.

  The following year, Milton met up with Marilyn at the Los Angeles home of producer Joseph Schenck, with whom Marilyn was involved at the time. Also present was screenplay writer Ben Hecht. Schenck’s home offered expansive views with wonderful props for Milton and Marilyn to play off, as seen on page 148. Besides doing a series of candid pictures, still considered favorites, the four spoke of Marilyn doing a book about her life story, the result of which is the book in your hands. Marilyn and Ben Hecht spent time together over the next few months, and they began working on her biography. Before leaving California for New York to live with the Greene family, Marilyn had dictated her own words and Hecht put them to paper.

  Rick Rinehart and I selected the pictures for this edition, and I want to thank Rick for his assistance in this project. Many of these are favorites that have been digitally restored from the original transparencies and negatives. When my father passed, he thought that most of his 300,000-image collection had faded and been lost to time. I started the Archives in 1993 to salvage his collection. Ever since I have embraced digital photo restoration. The technology has allowed me to pursue my passion, photography, while protecting and preserving my father’s legacy.

  On page 21, there’s a photograph of Marilyn dressed in a bustier with ostrich feathers and a huge shiny necklace—costume jewelry, of course. This was a very special evening. Nobody knew where Marilyn had been for the last year and a half. She had moved to New York and with the help of my father, and his attorney had successfully sued Twentieth Century Fox to get her released from her slave contract. Michael Todd organized a fundraising event at Madison Square Garden with the Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus. It was a star-studded, high society affair with Milton Berle as Master of Ceremonies dressed in riding boots and tails. At the end, when the performers came out for their final bow, Marilyn appeared riding on top of a pink elephant wearing this flamboyant outfit. It brought down the house.

  On page 35 and 129, there are images from the “Hooker” series, so nicknamed because she was posing as a call girl on a French set on the Twentieth Century Fox back lots. On Sunday afternoons when not filming Bus Stop, Milton and Marilyn would run over to the wardrobe department and rummage through the costumes, looking for something to spark their imaginations. Milton was a “photographer’s photographer”—every frame was usable and he never overshot. Today’s younger generation may recognize this outfit from Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” video.

  On pages 33 and 39, Marilyn is wearing a corduroy peddle-pusher suit, very much en vogue at the time, which was sold recently at an auction. I always wonder how these clothes turn up after all these years. I love the picture on the haystack because of the off-center composition and the fact that Marilyn has her head down. Look at how her left wrist is at an angle opposite to her right ankle. This is a great example of Milton’s natural eye for beauty and his appreciation of the silhouette.

  The picture on page
44 was part of a wonderful sitting entitled the “Ballerina” series, as are the images on pages 3, 63, and 168. This was one of the first sittings Milton did as an experiment at his studio in New York rather than on assignment. The dress turned out to be too small for Marilyn—but that didn’t stop them. As you can see on page 44, the back of the dress is unzipped, and on page 168, she’s holding the frontispiece up in place.

  The two pictures on page 54 and 58 came from the very first sitting Milton and Marilyn did together in 1953. The picture on page 54 captures an innocent Marilyn in an evening dress. In the picture on page 58, Marilyn was completely nude with only Amy Greene’s sweater coat on. This “Nude” series proved to be too risqué for the times and the image was never published until the 1970s. A sister image from this sitting was digitally restored specifically for Hugh Hefner and appeared on a 1997 commemorative cover of Playboy.

  On page 69 is a fun photograph with Maurice Chevalier and his accompanist on the keyboards. Milton had three favorite props that turn up in many of his images: a cigarette, a hat, and some soft fabric like a scarf or a boa.

  On page 75 is a candid shot during the filming of Bus Stop. Milton created the look of the makeup for Cherie, the character Marilyn played. If you have the opportunity to see the film, you’ll notice that Marilyn is radiant white as if she’s glowing inside. Milton decided that this character, who sleeps during the day and is inside at night, would never get any sun so she would be paste white. Lighting on movie sets is extremely bright, and actors usually have to wear a lot of makeup, darkening their skin to create contours with rouge and pancake. Since Marilyn herself was already paste white, Milton redid all of Marilyn’s lighting so she would appear white but in balance with the other characters. At the end of filming Logan graciously acknowledged my father’s vision, and they remained friends until their deaths. Oh, by the way, notice the prop in Cherie’s hands. There are no accidents. Other images from Bus Stop appear on pages 11, 27, 47, 71, 81, 91, 105, 119, and 155.

  The casual pose pictured on page 82 was part of a series of pictures Milton and Marilyn did on the back lot of Twentieth Century Fox during the filming of Bus Stop scenes that did not include Marilyn’s character. Taken in the morning light, this beautiful image reminds us of the woman rather than the actress.

  In 1956, before leaving for London to begin filming on Prince and the Showgirl, the three principles got together in Milton’s studio to take some much needed publicity photos to announce the beginning of production for the film. On page 125 you see Marilyn seated between producer/director and leading man Sir Lawrence Olivier and writer Terrence Rattigan. Another picture of “The Prince” and “The Showgirl” appear on page 96.

  The candid on page 88 is a sultry image of Marilyn, taken on the set of Prince and the Showgirl. Bus Stop and Prince and the Showgirl were both produced by Marilyn Monroe Productions (MMP). MMP was the first production company where a woman was principle and had controlling interest. Marilyn had 51 percent and my father 49 percent. Though the shooting for Prince was much more tense and complicated than Bus Stop, the lighting, costumes, and the way Marilyn looked on the screen was beautiful. Other images from the film appear on pages 12, 99, 102, 132, 142, 145, and 177.

  While Marilyn was living in my family’s house in Weston, Connecticut, my father had a wonderful daylight studio that he converted from a barn. The picture on page 137 with the red sweater stretched over her knees and the pictures on pages 6 and 139 wearing a tennis sweater were both done in that natural light environment.

  After the announcement of MMP, Edward R. Murrow contacted my father to discuss doing one of his Sunday evening live “Person to Person” broadcasts. Marilyn, Milton, and Murrow met in a penthouse suite at the Hotel Pierre. This candid photograph on page 146 was one of a few taken while the trio met.

  In those days, television transmission had to be done by line of sight. It took men two weeks to build a 200-foot antenna in the backyard to prepare for the broadcast. This was state-of-the-art technology of the day, and it allowed Murrow to have a live feed in his studio at Rockefeller Center and the subjects to have a live feed seeing Murrow talk to them over a TV. Now go out and rent Good Night and Good Luck. It will give you a more profound understanding of how important Murrow was to the broadcast community.

  The pictures on pages 110 and 184 are very important to the collection because they are from the last official sitting Milton and Marilyn had together. The setting included brown velvet, a bank of tungsten lights, an extremely sheer red dress, a big fan, and multiple bottles of champagne. The net result: only 36 exposures and the rest is history.

  On page 114 is another picture of Marilyn on the back lots of Twentieth. This time she is wearing a gypsy fortune-teller costume taken from wardrobe. They shot in two different locations—one captured her on a staircase and the other in a storefront window for a palm reader. As you can see, they were always having fun.

  The delightful image on page 151 was taken in 1954 when Marilyn first came to New York under Milton’s umbrella. With Marilyn in an outrageous, tight turquoise pantsuit, Milton shot 2-1/4 with his Roloflex and 8×10 with the Derdorf. This image was restored from an 8x10 transparency.

  The “Graduation” picture, as it became known, which appears on page 162, was actually a hair test done at Sydney Guillaroff’s home in Los Angeles. Milton played with white sheer fabric to offset Marilyn’s hair. Once Milton found the neckline using the fabric, it was the precursor to the actual costume created for Marilyn’s role in Prince and the Showgirl. Milton never showed Marilyn these pictures until after he printed one up where he cropped in on her face. He gave it to her to make up for the graduation picture she never received.

  After Marilyn wed Arthur Miller in 1956, the newlyweds took a brief few days off before Marilyn went to L.A. to start filming Bus Stop. Milton took the candid on page 171 when he went to have a production meeting with his partner at Miller’s home in Roxbury, Connecticut.

  Those of us who knew Marilyn remember that she wasn’t a clothes horse. She usually borrowed clothes from designers or from the wardrobe department. But one of the few items she always owned and carried with her was a white terry-cloth robe. The candid on page 172 captures a happy moment.

  We’ve been told that the stringed instrument cradled by Marilyn on page 182 was a mandolin. Now with the many fans who review our collection on the Internet, we’ve received corrections that it’s a balalaika. If you know otherwise, feel free to contact us. This image was done in 1953 as part of the first sitting for Look magazine. Again note the simplicity of the props that never detract from the expression captured in the moment.

  Before I sign off, I’d like to share with you that the company I started in 1993 is a labor of love. In the early days it took as many as sixty hours to digitally restore one image. Now, with the newest technology, it takes only fifteen hours. I started the Archives to work on Milton’s images, but we are committed to saving any kind of photography from disappearing off the face of the earth. Located in Florence, Oregon, we are a small but intimate staff made up of Paula “Sonni” Strenke and Shawn and James Penrod, and we are able to operate globally thanks to the Internet. We beta test the newest hardware and software for today’s companies as well as give workshops and attend tradeshows. There are really only a few of us who do digital imaging and large-format, fine art printing, and I’m very proud to be part of the family. In the digital realm, we share our knowledge and experience with each other in order to expand our capabilities. It is a mindset that has always inspired artists, and maybe if we keep expanding we’ll eventually have an effect on the mindset of our politicians.

  Lastly I need to thank Stephen Weingrad, my brother Anthony, my mom Amy, and of course my father Milton, whose work lives on through such efforts as this project.

  Enjoy the book and write to us at [email protected]

  All the best,

  Joshua Greene

  President

  The Archives LLCr />
  my

  story

  1

  how i rescued

  a white piano

  I thought the people I lived with were my parents. I called them mama and dad. The woman said to me one day, “Don’t call me mama. You’re old enough to know better. I’m not related to you in any way. You just board here. Your mama’s coming to see you tomorrow. You can call her mama if you want to.”

  I said, thank you. I didn’t ask her about the man I called dad. He was a letter carrier. I used to sit on the edge of the bathtub in the morning and watch him shave and ask him questions—which way was east or south, or how many people there were in the world. He was the only one who had ever answered any questions I asked.

  The people I had thought were my parents had children of their own. They weren’t mean. They were just poor. They didn’t have much to give anybody, even their own children. And there was nothing left over for me. I was seven, but I did my share of the work. I washed floors and dishes and ran errands.

  My mother called for me the next day. She was a pretty woman who never smiled. I’d seen her often before, but I hadn’t known quite who she was.

  When I said, “Hello mama,” this time, she stared at me. She had never kissed me or held me in her arms or hardly spoken to me. I didn’t know anything about her then, but a few years later I learned a number of things. When I think of her now my heart hurts me twice as much as it used to when I was a little girl. It hurts me for both of us.