Garbo [Paperback]

One of the problems with celebrity biography is that biographers often claim too much, offering as fact things that are actually speculation or hearsay. Barry Paris avoids this trap very well, indicating clearly which of his conclusions are speculative and which can be documented. We see the value of this approach in his chapter on Garbo's sexuality: unlike some other Garbo biographers, Paris wisely refuses to rely on circumstantial evidence. Yes, I'm disappointed that the information is not more definitive, but then again, who would expect the record of Garbo's life to be any less ambiguous than the woman herself? (And, as Garbo would no doubt point out, her sex life is none of our business anyway.)

If Paris is careful to separate fact from gossip in biographical details, he is less cautious when indulging in psychological conjecture. For instance, his explanation of Garbo's attraction to women (or her "sexual pathology," as he terms it) is superficial, amateurish, and at times downright offensive (p. 249). (She turned to women only because she had been so hurt and betrayed by men? Please. Why must same-sex attraction be explained in terms of psychological damage and trauma? Why must it be "explained" at all?)

In general, the biography is weakest in its psychological and cultural analyses. Despite some interesting insights, Paris is obviously no psychologist, nor is he much of a cultural theorist. But I found it easy to skim these sections and instead concentrate on the specifics of Garbo's life and words, material that Paris presents thoroughly, meticulously, and (as far as I can tell) honestly. He's respectful of his subject without being obsequious or gushy; he treats Garbo's flaws in a balanced fashion.

Structurally, Paris can be repetitive. Stylistically, he tends to overuse his exclamation points! In a piece of serious writing, this quirk is distracting!

But all in all, "Garbo" is a solid, informative, enjoyable biography.

It is probably the case that more often than not the people who produce biographies of film stars hold themselves to a lower standard than other authors. After all, most of these are trite recitations of scandals both real and imagined in which they are paired in any number of combinations.

Happily this is not the case with this book by Barry Paris. Mr. Paris brings a unique and scholarly approach to this work on the enigmatic silent and talky film star.

Frequently what compels people to write these kinds of books is the assurance that a film star's fan base will be sufficient to provide a ready made audience. In the case of Garbo's career, as Mr. Paris cites time and time, it was her skill as an actress that enabled her to raise the quality of a work to greater levels time and time again.

Garbo's personal life was something else. It is clear that while probably a pleasant person to intimates, she did not suffer fools or intrusions gladly. In the final analysis as Mr. Paris points out, Garbo had two things going for her, her remarkable talent as an actress and the lengths she would go to to avoid unwanted contact. Otherwise she led a perfectly ordinary life with ordinary needs, sometimes carried almost to the level of excess in the case of Garbo's numerous quest for shoes. Still this mixture of the banal and rarified is the stuff of real life.

I would suggest that anyone reading this book might also enjoy the TCM collection of Garbo movies that came out last year in conjunction with the 100th anniversary of her birth. This wonderful set also includes a copy of "Flesh and the Devil" with commentary by Mr. Paris.

This biography is just as well-written and meticulously-researched as Mr. Paris's biography on Louise Brooks, which I had read prior to reading this one. He's a great celebrity biographer; he really does his homework, doesn't really get into the sleazy, sensational, and speculative trap that a lot of other celebrity biographers too often fall into, has a clear respect for his subject without fawning all over her, sugarcoating less than perfect aspects of her life, or holding her up as some sort of demigoddess, and clearly distinguishes between fact, outright fantasy and falsehood, and rumor and speculation that could go either way. This professional approach is keenly felt when he's writing about Garbo's relationships with men and women; there were some affairs of hers that were well-substatiated by outside evidence (most particularly her affair with Jack Gilbert), but other than that one can't really say how many relationships she may have had, or even that she were actively bisexual, though she clearly felt more comfortable emotionally with women. She wasn't entirely asexual either; though she did seem more comfortable alone, with no one invading her privacy and personal territory, she didn't go through life completely celibate either. And of course, Mr. Paris makes this topic one of only many covered in the book, since what she did or didn't do with anyone she may or may not have had a relationship with isn't really any of our business.

What makes this book, and its subject, so fascinating is the fact that the majority of Garbo's life was not lived on-camera. She had her childhood and adolescence, her years of acting in Sweden, Germany, and America in the Twenties and Thirties, and then retired from the screen in the early Forties (though there was a strong possibility she could have had to return to the screen in 1948, and many other times before and since). Mr. Paris even points out that, of the relatively small amount of films she was in, not a whole lot of them would be considered great cinematic works of art or classics. To paraphrase the old saying, she was rarely in a picture that was as good as she was. However, the force of her personality, her riveting screen presence, her unique and androgynous beauty, and her acting talent elevated these films beyond formula pictures, made one watch them in spite of the not always great scripts. Particularly interesting are the chapters on Garbo's life post-acting. Mr. Paris brings these years of retirement to vivid life, showing us that just because she had willingly dropped out of public view didn't mean she had ceased to live a fascinating life; in fact, in some ways her post-acting life was even more colorful and interesting. He also chronicles the real story of her famous desire to be alone, or to be left alone, and how the truth was more complex than just a shy recluse or a former moviestar who shunned most human contact. She led a very full and active social life during those nearly 50 years off-screen, and had friendships with a lot of high-profile and fascinating people, pursued a lot of diverse interests, had a lot of interesting thoughts, and generally lived a very interesting life. He also examines the truth behind why she never married; on the one hand, there's ample evidence to suggest that she just preferred to be alone, didn't want to be made vulnerable by intimacy, would feel invaded or violated by such intrusion, was never really cut out to be the stereotypical traditional wife and mother; but on the other hand, some of her close associates felt that perhaps she could have been happy with a partner who knew and understood her need to be alone and the fact that she would never be a housewife or conform to the traditional gender role assigned to women in Western society, and even said she sometimes voiced regret she had never married or had a family. Whatever the case, she was always very much her own person with her own identity.

However, even in a bio this meticulous and even-handed, there are bound to be some errors. The major one I noticed was Mr. Paris's statement that 'The Kiss,' Garbo's final silent, was also the last silent released in America but for Chaplin's last stands, 'City Lights' (1931) and 'Modern Times' (1936). 'The Kiss' came out in mid-November 1929, but there were still some theatres in America not wired for sound, and some artists who were still releasing silents they had made earlier that year, such as Laurel and Hardy's final silent, 'Angora Love,' which came out in December of 1929. Additionally, some of the more minor studios did release silent pictures in 1930, so to say that this was the final American silent picture is kind of dishonest. It would have been better had he said it was the last *major* American silent. Another error I noticed was when Mr. Paris referred to Natacha Rambova (whose forename he didn't even spell correctly) as a lesbian. This seems to be just one of those old unfounded rumors that just won't go away. The reader also might disagree with some of his opinions or conclusions about some of her films, or certain aspects of them, but the beauty of opinions is that we're all entitled to our own and aren't forced to agree with someone else's.

Overall, I would highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to know more about this famous and elusive enigma and to go beyond long-time rumors and speculation to find out the facts.

› Go to Amazon.com to see all 14 reviews  4.4 out of 5 stars