回复：【长篇阅读】公子的传记

“Barbara will flip her lip! What do I tell her? A three-hundred-dollar lighter is at the bottom of the Mississippi River?”
“Yeah,” Tom said, “tell her just that. If you ask me, it’s almost funny!”
“You don’t know Barbara!” was Taylor’s reply.
However, when she came to see him on her one and only visit while he was in the Navy, she gave him another. Taylor arranged a party for her at the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans.
She had been nominated for another Oscar for her performance in Double Indemnity with Fred MacMurray, but lost to Ingrid Bergman (in Gaslight) and she said, “I’m beginning to feel like one of Crosby’s also-ran horses.”
While Bob was drawing his lieutenant’s pay and loving it, Barbara was the highest salaried woman in the movies—＄323,333 in 1943—out-earning the other cinema queens—Bette Davis, Greer Garson and Betty Grable.
There was no publicity about her visit to Taylor. He wouldn’t allow it. He was all Navy now and cared little about what was happening in Hollywood. On one of his furloughs to California he agreed to pose with Barbara in their home. He looked very young with his butch cut and Barbara very mature and sophisticated in her dressing grown and upswept hair. The pictures released were “very-much-posed” with Bob in uniform trying to look interested in the domestic scene.

He said he felt more comfortable in New Orleans and that somehow he resented any publicity when he was in Navy dress.
Mayer called him and said, “You’d better keep yourself in the public’s eye, Bob. There’s a whole new crop of young guys taking over here and the kids are crazy about them. And before you say anything about not returning to the movies, let me tell you something . . . You’ll be back!”
“Not until the war is over, L. B.”
“Sometimes I think you’ll never grow up.What I can’t figure out about you is that you never let fame go to your head, but the God damn Navy has done something to you—like nothing else matters.”
“Nothing else does.”
“Wise up. Pose for those pictures and let some reporters interview you once in awhile.”
“Not as long as I am wearing this uniform.”
“Next thing you’ll want is for me to call you Lieutenant!”
“Would you believe I like that title better than Heart Throb of the Nation?”
“If you gave as much of yourself to being a good actor as you do to being a good soldier—or whatever they call you –you’d be number one around here instead of number two.”
“See ya, L.B.”
“Yeah, so long, Lieutenant!”

Taylor told Tom Purvis he hadn’t been happier since he left Nebraska. “It seems everything I do is corny. Mayer thinks it’s cute that I’m quite content in the Navy. So does Barbara. Sometimes I feel as though they are letting their little boy have his fun.”
Purvis, 6 feet 3 inches tall and weighting 240 pounds, was Bob’s constant buddy while he was in the Navy. Many times when Taylor was recognized,people thought Purvis was Bob’s security man or bodyguard.
He was still unable to get through a meal in public without someone approaching his table. While his food went cold, he signed autographs.
One night a girl walked up to him in the lobby of a hotel and asked for his autograph. While his attention was diverted for a moment, another girl ran up to him, took out a pair of scissors and cut off his Navy regulation tie, leaving just a stub.
Taylor’s face turned blazing red! He started after her, “That kid is going to get her face slapped!”
Tom held him back. “C’mon Bob, you must be used to that by now.”
“Not in a Navy uniform, for Christ’s sake!I can’t walk around like this!”
He was burning and returned to his room for another tie. The phone rang. It was a man’s voice. “Is this Robert Taylor?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I just saw that display in the lobby. That girl had some nerve!”
“Who is this?”
“Just a man like yourself. Know what I mean?”
“Don’t getcha, Mac.”
“C’mon, you Hollywood men are all the same. . . always expected to be seen with a dame when it’s really a man you want. Well, I’m the same as you, Bobby. We talk the same language!”

Taylor didn’t hang up the phone—he threw it!—“God damn fags. We’re going after him, Tom.”
“Forgot it, Bob. Relax, have a drink, calm down.”
“Sure, how easy it sounds. You don’t know how lucky you are, old buddy. Hollywood is not at all what it’s cracked up to be. You’re had a happier life than I’ve had. I envy you.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Bob,but I’ll take your words for it. How about dinner now.”
“Not hungry. Let’s knock it off for tonight. I’m too aggravated to eat. How about taking off tomorrow for Dallas!”
The following day, Taylor was still annoyed about the tie and the telephone call. He and Tom flew to Texasin a Navy plane, but his mind was still seething over the night before.
Returning To New Orleans, Tom was getting a little annoyed with Bob’s irritating mood. “I’ll do the flyin’ and you do the navigating, Bob.”
Purvis said it was a cloudy day and he decided to snap Taylor out of his depression. “Bob and I would usually manage our flight plan by placing towns, rivers, railroads etc. In those days the planes the Navy gave us for student training were not well equipped for navigation.

Ironically the most humiliating experience in his life happened while he was in the Navy. When asked what embarrassed him most during his early years as a motion picture actor, he said it was when a beauty queen fainted on stage just as he was about to shake her hand, leaving him standing there alone with his arm outstretched. But that was mild compared to a mishap that occurred to him one day in Iowa.
He wouldn’t talk about it for a long time,but he never forgot it—as much as he would have liked to.
He was flown to a Naval Air Station in Ottumwa, Iowa, to be the master of ceremonies at a celebration. It had rained in Ottumwa and patches of ice were here and there on the landing field. There had been a lot of publicity about Taylor’s arrival and not only did the Navy represent itself at the airport but hundreds of civilians as well.
When the Navy’s twin-engine Beechcraft landed, the air cadets took their place behind the Admiral and the crowds of people cheered as the plane slowly glided up to its designated parking area.
As the door to the Beechcraft opened, rather than wait for the step ladder, Taylor jumped to the ground as he was used to doing.
The throng of observers who had waited hours in the rain gathered around the plane. The Air Cadets lined up at attention and the Admiral stood waiting to return Taylor’s salute.
The band began to play “Stars and Stripes Forever” . . .

As Taylor made his leap, he hit the ice and landed on his back, feet up in the air. He slid a few feet and every attempt to get up only made it more difficult for him. His cap flew off and it rolled underneath the plane where he couldn’t get it.
He was like a turtle on its back. .Some chuckled while others tried to contain themselves. The Navy Air Cadets looked straight ahead still at attention and many could barely maintain their military expressions while the Admiral waited . . .
Taylor finally got to his feet but couldn’t salute because it is against Navy regulations to do so without a cap on. He had no choice but to stand there while someone retrieved it. By this time the band was on its third chorus of “Stars and Stripes Forever,” and the Admiral was still waiting, biting his tongue to keep from laughing.
Taylor said, “I was never so humiliated in all my life!”
In January, 1945, Taylor went to New York City on a war bond drive and to promote the Navy film, The Fighting Lady. Barbara joined him and made it clear to the press that her being in the East was to see her husband and not for any professional reasons.
However one very well known columnist telephoned Barbara and she agreed to an interview. When he arrived at the Taylor’s hotel suite he found himself alone with Bob who said Barbara would be back shortly.
When she finally did appear, she rushed into the room, said “hello,” and fled into the bedroom muttering something about needing a shower.

Meanwhile the columnist carried on alengthy conversation with Taylor. Bob was impatient because he was bored with small talk, and the columnist was impatient because he had expected an exclusive interview with Barbara Stanwyck.
An hour passed. Taylor occasionally banged on the bedroom door but got no response. He was annoyed but spoke about the Navy and his return to film-making when the war ended.
Taylor was trim and unusually handsome in his uniform, but he mentioned that if his fans were fickle he would get out of acting and find something else to do. The Navy had changed him, true. Hollywood wasn’t that important if he had to start all over again.
The strained ‘interview’ continued and Taylor knocked on the locked bedroom door again.
The reporter left, annoyed and disappointed. His column the following day was devoted to Lt. Taylor, and how rude Barbara had been. Did she need a shower that badly?
When Barbara read the newspaper it apparently didn’t bother her, because several nights later she ran into the columnist at a night club. She approached him graciously and explained her reasons for avoiding the interview. She explained she never should have agreed to it because Bob was on an official visit to promote The Fighting Lady and to sell war bonds. Being at his side was her wifely duty, and she did not want to take anything away from his attention. Furthermore it was up to her as a loyal American Citizen during wartime to back Bob and not to overshadow him in any way.
The columnist was so impressed by Barbara’s humble explanation that he wrote a retraction applauding her.

Taylor was sent to Illinois to await his discharge papers, and he was still instructing.
One afternoon during class a young student looked up from his desk and finally realized who his teacher was. Taylor noticed the kid’s mouth drop wide open, but ignored it. The boy continued to stare at him, nottaking notes or listening to the lecture. He seemed to be in a daze.
After class he walked up to Taylor and said, “Lieutenant, I wonder if you would do me a big favor.”
“You’d be doing me a big favor by paying attention tomorrow,” Taylor barked.
“Yes, sir, but you see, my mother is a switchboard operator here on base and I know it would be the biggest thrill of her life if you would say a few words to her.”
“Sure,” Taylor said, and had a brief conversation with the boy’s mother.
The young student was Roy Fitzgerald, better known today as Rock Hudson.
And ironically, ten years later the son of that switchboard operator would replace Robert Taylor as Doctor Robert Merrickin Magnificent Obsession and become the idol of a new generation . . .

On November 5, 1945, Taylor was discharged from the Navy as a Senior Grand Lieutenant. He hit the low point in his life when he tried to resume his career: good pictures were hard to find and even harder to get.
He tried to regain his position at MGM and in the public eye. But while he was in the service, a quick turnover in leading men had taken place: Cornel Wilde, Van Johnson, Frank Sinatra and Peter Lawford were given the choice roles, and these male stars were very much in demand.
Tyron Power was given Twentieth Century’s best when he returned—Razor’s Edge—followed up immediately with Captain from Castile, and he was re-established as a top star.
In May, 1943, Taylor had been given a new twenty-year contract with MGM for ＄4.000 a week. It was the first Hollywood contract to carry a protective clause in the event of dollar-inflation.

When he returned to MGM in 1945, Taylor didn’t ask for a raise because of taxes. Instead, the studio gave him a brand new twin-engine Beechcraft. He and MGM made a deal involving the aircraft, which was worth ＄75,000.
Taylor rented it back to MGM on occasion and it was written into his contract that the plane was to be returned to the manufacturer every 120 hours for check-up and if any of the instruments needed correcting, they were not to be repaired. They were to be replaced.
One of his Navy buddies, Ralph Couser, was hired by MGM and assigned as Taylor’s co-pilot. Couser was undoubtedly one of Taylor’s best friends beside Tom Purvis, who lived in Illinois. He and Tom often met halfway in each other’s planes.
Though MGM gave Taylor more than they had showered on any of their other stars, a good script, which he needed more than ever, was unavailable to him.

“You’ve changed, Bob,” Mayer said.
“Is that good or bad?” Taylor asked.
“I don’t know. Can’t figure it. What do you want that we haven’t already given you?”
“You might give me something great to make a comeback. Tyrone Power says it’s like he never left.”
“I have always told you, Bob, you are an individual and shouldn’t compare yourself with anyone. What the hell do you care what happens for Power?”
“Just an example . . .”
“What do you think of Katie Hepburn?”
“Don’t know her.”
“I didn’t ask you if you’d gone to bed withher. What do you think of her as an actress? ”
“The best!”
“You’ve got her for your next movie!”
“I don’t think I want to work with MissHepburn. I’m still recuperating from Garbo.”
“Would the fact that you’re going to be a louse in this picture persuade you?”
“Have I ever turned you down, L. B.?”

When the movie was completed Katherine Hepburn was one of the many who said, “I never got to know him very well, but I considered Bob one of the most underated actors in the business.”
Although Undercurrent was not a good comeback picture for Taylor, critics were unusually kind to him, welcoming him back and commenting he was surprisingly relaxed for an actor who had just returned to the screen after a three-year absence.
Taylor said he really didn’t know what depression was until 1946. MGM had nothing scheduled for him and he spent most of his time hunting with Gable, who was also suffering from the same post-war slump. Gable hated the first movie offered to him when he returned from the service (Adventure with Greer Garson)and the critics agreed. Unlike Taylor, Gable hit the bottle heavily, drove too fast (resulting in one accident), and dated any socialite he met.
The studio did not comment on Taylor’s buying a motorcycle and hitting the road with Gary Cooper and Keenan Wynn, but when Gable joined the group and was seen cycling at top speed, MGM disapproved. He was too reckless, they said, and was taking his frustrations out by tearing up the roads and anything else in his way.
Gable gave up his motorcycle, saying to Taylor, “Let’s go huntin’ up Oregon way, Baby!”

Taylor’s fishing gear, sleeping bags and camping equipment were always ready to go, packed neatly on the back porch. Then Barbara would announce she had time off, and Bob, feeling obligated to stay home, cleaned his guns and stared longingly out the window. He admitted he would have been better off if he had packed up early and left, doing as he pleased rather than try to pacify Barbara—and holding back his resentment.
His hunting buddies were actually afraid to call him about a jaunt and were reluctant to bring up the subject when Barbara was in the room. She didn’t especially like their conversations, which excluded her, and it annoyed her to see Bob’s face light up when he was engrossed in a gab session about sports.
Tom Purvis came out from Illinois for a visit, but stayed at a hotel. Barbara often said, “Don’t ever want to be a house guest and I don’t ever wanta house guest!”
Taylor was embarrassed that Tom had to stay at a hotel, but he reserved him a room at the Beverly Wilshire, picking up the bill. The two checked in and Bob said, “Gotcha a suite, Old Buddy, so you’d have lots of room.”
They had a few drinks and after looking the place over, Tom said he thought he’d unpack.
He opened his small suitcase, took out one sock, threw it in one closet, took out another sock, threw it in another closet, took out a suit jacket and hung that up in another, put his trousers in still another until he had managed to put almost everything he had brought—one by one—in a different closet.
“Never saw Bob laugh so hard in all my life!” Tom said. “But God Almighty, the darn place was big enough for ten people and then they wouldn’t run into each other for a week!”
When Tom poured himself another Scotch,Taylor quipped, “Hey, you have one empty closet. Aren’t you goin’ to hang up your undershorts?”

Other friends of Taylor’s came out to Los Angeles to visit him, but did not spend much time at the three-bedroom house in Beverly Hills that Barbara had bought when Bob was in the service. He had to sleep in the sewing room until they were able to build another bedroom.
No one seemed to mind out being invited to the Taylors’ home. One friend said, “When I did go there I had to listen to Barbara yelling at Bob and watch him taking it. He never fought back.”
In an interview Barbara gave regarding her marriage to Taylor she said, “He’s a great sleeper. I sit up and read a book. He naps in the afternoon—naps he calls ‘resting his eyes.’ He never broke away from Nebraska.He still has a sense of belonging back there.
“He’s likely to stay up in his plane and never come down. He can do anything a bird does but sit on a barbed-wire fence!
“He’s neat, but in the bathroom he’s a mess. He leaves towels everywhere and is careless about cigarettes. His shoes are always shined but are all over the house. Can’t tell you which he shines more—his plane, his shoes or his guns.
“He buys watches—dozens of them. I don’t know whether he had more cookbooks or watches around here. He’s always making popcorn and takes a bowl with him wherever he goes in the house.
“Bob is a fatalist and is not superstitious. He always remembers anniversaries—even trivial ones.
“I think he’s changed since he’s been in the Navy . . .”

Taylor was interviewed too, but he didn’t say much about Barbara. “I don’t know what happened to my career. Maybe I’m not that good an actor. In fact I really don’t think I am, and I admit I have a lot to learn. And yet I don’t think an established actor loses his public appeal just because he is not a polished actor. I can name several top name stars who make no pretensions at being Barrymores.
“Barbara said to me, when I had made the top of the popularity polls, ‘You’ll take a fall, young man, and it will frighten and depress you, but it will pass.’ What she was trying to tell me was that it happens to all of us sometime. The public is fickle.
“I never thought my looks would be a problem. I was concerned about my movies, my parts and how well I acted out my lines. If I ever gave any thought to my looks it was whether or not I should have my nose straightened or get rid of my widow’s peak.
“People believe what they want to and they accept Gable and Tracy in any role. And I think that maybe my fans believed all that nonsense written about me when I left for England to make Yank. I will never get over that experience for as long as I live because I was innocent of everything.
“As for an actor’s personal life, I just cannot believe that it has anything to do with his popularity . . . not these days.
“Writers criticize me for being too dignified, too reserved. I’m told that I never let go—that I have no emotions, but that’s me.
“It’s not the money that scares a star if his career appears to be fading—it’s pride! When a saleman gets fired, only his friends and family know about it. But when a star is fired, the whole world knows it.
“Ya know, one of the most popular saying saround this town is that a dead star is the deadest thing on earth and the least liable to resurrection.”