Post by david on Oct 22, 2004 11:28:59 GMT -5
I got an article of Garbo's never married in Liberty magazine April 15....here's her words:
Why are people so interested in the matrimonial status of film status of film stars? After all, the marriage is nobody's business except the two people concerned. It is strictly their private affair.
Moreover, it is damaging to a star to have the intimate details of her domestic life broadcast far and wide. It is particularly unfair (if not actually unwise for an actor who plays great-lover roles) to stress having a wife and children, no matter how he dotes on them in private.
Personally, I should hate to have my husband lose his identity. Instead, I should want to forget I had ever been Greta Garbo. With so many broken romances littered about, Hollywood is not keen to draw attention to the love affairs of its players. What chance has a marriage in these circumstances? Can you wonder that film stars hesitate to exchange single blessedness for married bliss?
The particular problem that faces the film star, however, is this: Have I the peculiar kind of genius and temperament that makes of matrimony a holy and lasting bond? Am I a fit person to be anybody's "lawful wedded wife"? Can I make success of married life? With a male star, it is different. When he marries, convention expects that his wife shall subordinate her interests to his.
How embarrrassing, on the other hand, is the situation of a non-film acting husband married to a famous film star! He is bound to lose something of his own identity. Imagine a man being known as "Mr. Garbo." In sections of society still impressed by the false glitter of the limelight, and where the spectacle of a woman who has made her own way in the world is still matter for surprise and idle chatter, this is what would surely happen.
Only a fool or a hero could abide such a position. The only good reason for two people getting married is so that they can be together most of the time. That is impossible with me so long as I remain on the screen.
A marriage contract which has to make the best of whatever is left over after the film contract has been fulfilled seems a makeshift affair. A husband needs his wife's spiritual support as well as her physical presence. Unless one marries a fellow film artist, there is little chance of this ideal union of sympathy and interests. A star's career is a whole-time job.
When I first went to Hollywood under the wing of (Swedish director) Mauritiz Stiller, I used to go to parties regularly and attend premieres. But my work began to suffer. Also, making public appearances destroys the illusion that surrounds the shadows of the silver sheet. The creative artist should be a rare and solitary spirit. Stiller's death was a great blow. He found me, an obscure artist in Sweden, and brought me to America. I worshipped him. Some say it was a love story. It was more. It was the utter devotion which only the very young can know----the adoration of a student for her teacher, of a timid girl for a master mind.
Stiller taught me how to do everything: How to eat; how to turn my head; how to express love---and hate. I studied his every whim, wish and demand. I lived my life according to the plans he laid down. He told me what to say and what to do. When Stiller died in 1928, I found myself like a ship without a rudder. I was bewildered---very lonely.
I resolutely refused to talk to reporters because I didn't know what to say.
I dropped out of the social whirl. I retired into my shell. I built a wall of repression around my real self, and I lived (and still live) behind it. In the gayest, maddest colony in the world, I became a hermit. I did not go to parties. I was too tired. I went to bed when my work was done.
Besides, I am a little self-conscious about my English. I cannot express myself well at parties. I speak haltingly. I feel awkward, shy, afraid. In Hollywood, where every tea table bristles with gossip writers, what I say might be misunderstood. So I am silent as the grave about my private affairs. Rumors fly. I am mum. My private affairs are STRICTLY private."
Thank you, read this why Garbo never married for! Love, D.L.
Why are people so interested in the matrimonial status of film status of film stars? After all, the marriage is nobody's business except the two people concerned. It is strictly their private affair.
Moreover, it is damaging to a star to have the intimate details of her domestic life broadcast far and wide. It is particularly unfair (if not actually unwise for an actor who plays great-lover roles) to stress having a wife and children, no matter how he dotes on them in private.
Personally, I should hate to have my husband lose his identity. Instead, I should want to forget I had ever been Greta Garbo. With so many broken romances littered about, Hollywood is not keen to draw attention to the love affairs of its players. What chance has a marriage in these circumstances? Can you wonder that film stars hesitate to exchange single blessedness for married bliss?
The particular problem that faces the film star, however, is this: Have I the peculiar kind of genius and temperament that makes of matrimony a holy and lasting bond? Am I a fit person to be anybody's "lawful wedded wife"? Can I make success of married life? With a male star, it is different. When he marries, convention expects that his wife shall subordinate her interests to his.
How embarrrassing, on the other hand, is the situation of a non-film acting husband married to a famous film star! He is bound to lose something of his own identity. Imagine a man being known as "Mr. Garbo." In sections of society still impressed by the false glitter of the limelight, and where the spectacle of a woman who has made her own way in the world is still matter for surprise and idle chatter, this is what would surely happen.
Only a fool or a hero could abide such a position. The only good reason for two people getting married is so that they can be together most of the time. That is impossible with me so long as I remain on the screen.
A marriage contract which has to make the best of whatever is left over after the film contract has been fulfilled seems a makeshift affair. A husband needs his wife's spiritual support as well as her physical presence. Unless one marries a fellow film artist, there is little chance of this ideal union of sympathy and interests. A star's career is a whole-time job.
When I first went to Hollywood under the wing of (Swedish director) Mauritiz Stiller, I used to go to parties regularly and attend premieres. But my work began to suffer. Also, making public appearances destroys the illusion that surrounds the shadows of the silver sheet. The creative artist should be a rare and solitary spirit. Stiller's death was a great blow. He found me, an obscure artist in Sweden, and brought me to America. I worshipped him. Some say it was a love story. It was more. It was the utter devotion which only the very young can know----the adoration of a student for her teacher, of a timid girl for a master mind.
Stiller taught me how to do everything: How to eat; how to turn my head; how to express love---and hate. I studied his every whim, wish and demand. I lived my life according to the plans he laid down. He told me what to say and what to do. When Stiller died in 1928, I found myself like a ship without a rudder. I was bewildered---very lonely.
I resolutely refused to talk to reporters because I didn't know what to say.
I dropped out of the social whirl. I retired into my shell. I built a wall of repression around my real self, and I lived (and still live) behind it. In the gayest, maddest colony in the world, I became a hermit. I did not go to parties. I was too tired. I went to bed when my work was done.
Besides, I am a little self-conscious about my English. I cannot express myself well at parties. I speak haltingly. I feel awkward, shy, afraid. In Hollywood, where every tea table bristles with gossip writers, what I say might be misunderstood. So I am silent as the grave about my private affairs. Rumors fly. I am mum. My private affairs are STRICTLY private."
Thank you, read this why Garbo never married for! Love, D.L.