回复：【长篇阅读】公子的传记

这是在哪儿买的诶？

Billy LaHiff, who owned The Tavern, a popular restaurant with the theatrical crowd,was unusually generous: he fed young girls who were out of work and unable to pay for their meals. Ruby stopped in one night to take advantage of Billy’s hospitality. When she finished her dinner, Billy took her over to Willard Mack’s table and introduced her to him.
At the time Mack, playwright and star, who was casting for The Noose, a broadway show,offered her a part in it. She said she would accept on one condition—that he hire her two roommates also. He agreed.
They opened in Pittsburgh and the play was a “turkey!” Mack decided to revise the script and do some readjusting in the cast. He gave Ruby a “juicy” part in the third act—that of agirl pleading for her brother’s life—but he said, “Ruby Stevens is no name for an actress!”
He glanced over to the wall and noted an old English theatre program listing Jane Stanwyck in Barbara Frietchi. Almost immediately he said, “You will now be known as Barbara Stanwyck.”
Mack took her to the producer’s office to sign a contract. The producer, however, was notkeen on an unknown taking on such an important part, although he said later that it was her “tough poignancy” that overwhelmed him.

As she was about to sign the contract, she got as far as “Bar,” looked up at Mack and said, “How do you spell Barbara?”
Throughout her lifetime she would use two capital B’s in her first name—BarBara.
On opening night in New York she invited her family to attend. Her sister, Mildred, looked at the theatre program and didn’t see the name Ruby Steven listed. She stayed, thinking Ruby had a very small part, probably just a walk-on, but before the last act the Steven family left. They missed her short but very effective performance at the end of the play.
Ruby had neglected to tell them about her new name.
The Noose was a success and remained in New York. During this time, Barbara was introduced to Frank Fay, one of the most famous personalities in show business. Not only wasshe excited about meeting Fay, but she was attracted to him as well. After abrief courtship, twenty-one-year-old Barbara Stanwyck married Frank Fay in St. Louis in August, 1928.

It was in the smash hit play Burlesque that she became an established stage actress.
Willard Mack had coached her while she studied, practiced and worked. Along with Fay’s help and encouragement, she became a polished performer.
Fay, who billed himself “Broadway’s Favorite Son,” took his wife to Hollywood where he had several offers to do films. Barbara took a screen test at Warner Brothers without result, but Fay spoke to Harry Cohn at Columbia,offering to pay her salary and expenses, if they would give her a break. She spent hours at the zoo watching the panthers so that she could learn to walk like them.
She appeared in Mexicali Rose, a low-budget film, but Fay again helped her get another role in Frank Capra’s Ladies of Leisure for Columbia, which convinced the studio to put her under contract.
One critic said , “Her accent is unattractive and her acting stilted,” but in Ten Cents a Dance, released in 1931, the critics were unanimous. They agreed her talent was worthy and she sued Columbia for more money. The matter was settled when the studio allowed Warner Brothers, who wanted her, to share her contract.
With Adolphe Menjou in Forbidden she was acclaimed as “great,” and this movie put her over the top, professionally and financially.

Frank Fay, however, was on the decline. He drank heavily and gave up his brief career in the movies. He decided to produce a musical revue, Tattle Tales, and Barbara declined to appear in several scheduled pictures to be part of her husband’s new stage show. They went on the road heading eastward, but when the play opened at the Broadhurst in New York, it was a flop.
One review said: “It was hardly worthwhile. The show was sluggish, which suggested that very likely Mr. Fay’s and Miss Stanwyck’s collective effort was that way a little, too.”
After the play closed, they returned to Hollywood and adopted a son, Dion. Barbara was very much in demand then and she picked up where she had left off. The Fays moved into a lavish Brentwood Heights estate in Los Angeles, but neither the child nor the luxurious way of life that Barbara was now able to afford, could make up for Fay’s behavior.
He had made his wife a star but in the process destroyed himself.
Their neighbors remember that at last once a week the police were called to the Fay home. Their violent quarrels sounded as if there were more than two people involved, but the smashing of dishes, breaking off into the night were the results of bitter arguments between Barbara and Frank alone.

There were many separations and it was Barbara who usually begged her husband to return. She wrote letters to him: “No need to tell you that I felt blue when you left. I can’t stand your being unhappy in any ay at all. Whatever you want to do I am with you 100 per cent only I do not want you to sacrifice yourself in any way. I can live any place or go anywhere with you.
“I love you just as much as it is possible for a woman to love a man. If I was born with anything fine in me, and I choose to think I was, from what I know of my motherand father, you have brought that fineness to the surface.
“I cannot imagine life without you and I am not being melodramatic.
“I probably do not give you that impression at any time—that of not being able to imagine life without you, I mean. However that is due to my lack of education and not being able to express myself clearly in speech.
“I can write it, however. You are always right about everything so you must be right about what you want to do. Only, please, Frank, love me—whatever you do. And wherever you go, take me. For there I shall be content. ”

In another letter dated November 17, 1934, she wrote to him on his birthday: “Dear Kid: I haven’t any grand present to give you this year, no diamonds, no watch,no nothing!
“I feel rather funny not sending you anything, but it just has to be.
“And so,Frank, all I have to give you today is my prayers that all will go well with you. And whatever you do shall be right, and that God will keep your path well-lighted so that you will never hurt yourself. God bless you and spare you. Barbara. (Note New York Herald Tribune, January 12, 1938 )
In August, 1935, she left Frank, but this time it was the end of their marriage.She gave him possession of their house and did not take with her the choice antique pieces and the sliver she had been collecting.

She and Dion moved into a ranch in the valley outside of Los Angeles. They had 140 acres to themselves and stables nearby where she bred racehorses in partnership with Zeppo Marx.The grounds were called Mar-Wyck (Marx and Stanwyck).
Early in1936 she filed for divorce and was awarded custody of Dion. One of her complaints was that there were “too many women who were attracted to Fay and he enjoyed it too much.”
When she left the courtroom she told reporters, “I hated to have to do this, but it seems the only salvation for both of us. Frank is better off alone and so am I. I want our divorce to be free of bitterness.”
Unfortunately,there were many battles to follow . . .

Though Taylor could hold his liquor, he didn’t care for it. Barbara was a good drinker and liked to put her feet up on the table, chatting in her characteristic New York accent.
Then what, if anything, did either see in each other? Barbara Stanwyck was the motherly type despite her masculine traits, and Taylor needed to be mothered, to be told what to do and how to do it. Everyone who knew them both at that time agreed.
And there were similarities. They drank gallons of coffee, both were chain smokers, and both were on the rebound.
They disliked night clubs and parties in general, though they were obliged to put up with them because of publicity. Taylor once said, “When I walk into a crowded room, sometimes I say ‘Hell,’ turn around and find some place quiet where I can drink lots of coffee.” Then, ofcourse, he was very shy and did not like small talk.
Barbara had never forgotten that early in her career she had been rudely snubbed at several Hollywood parties and now that she wasa star, could afford to snub them back.
Taylor had always remained himself, never really changing despite his fame and money.
Barbara was once asked what “going Hollywood” meant and she said, “It should mean working your head off, but in the popular sense it means going to the right places with the right people.”
Neither did.

“I envy Barbara more than any other person in the world!” Taylor once remarked. “I wish I were one-tenth the person she is. She rarely shows her emotions. She has been through so much, and she is so grateful for everything life has given her.
“She considers it a weakness to give way to every mood.
“If going through things gives one Barbara’s tolerance and appreciation, I wish it could have happened to me.
“I am very awed at what has happened to her. She practically brought herself up.
“Why, one night we took a drive to the beach and just sat there in silence. Barbara was crying and I had never seen her show any emotion before.”
Barbara always gave Bob the spotlight. Ironically it was a privilege to be seen with Barbara Stanwyck, but she purposely remained in the background. When they were mobbed by fans, she stepped back, letting him sigh autographs and say a few words in the microphone. One time she stepped too far back, became one of the crowd and was almost trampled to death. Taylor looked over his shoulder and yelled for one of the policemen to help her. They had been assigned, however, to guard Taylor,and when he saw her being pushed to the pavement, he grabbed an officer and screamed, “You get her out of there or I’ll kill you!”
She came out of it bruised and frightened. For a few minutes she sat on the curb trying to pull herself together.
No one recognized her.

Barbara was undoubtedly the stronger one, yet like a parent, she gave into Bob’s whims.
Afraid of height and excessive speed, she allowed herself to be talked into a roller coasterone night. “He always had to be someplace in the sky. The highest he could get then was on a roller coaster. I hated it! I hated it! My stomach is still up there. I never told him that because I was in love with him—so I went along.”
Taylor, in later life, said, “There were two traits I admired in Barbara and Garbo. Barbara turned off anyone who crossed her just once. Garbo demanded her privacy and got it. I was too young to understand how they ‘stuck to their guns’ and never relented.”
These two characteristics, however, were to be the keystone of his character when he matured . . .
In1936, before the release of Camille, Taylor wanted to get away from Hollywood for a while and was given a few weeks off. He took a boat to Hawaii alone. When he arrived the pier was filled with tourists and he panicked. Having no protection, he had to fare for himself, and tried to disappear in the crowd, leaving the boat.
He found himself in the middle of herds of people. They pulled his hair, grabbed for souvenirs (buttons, handkerchiefs and the like) and no one came to his aid. The few policemen who tried to help were unable to get through the mob.

Taylor tried to pacify the crowd by promising to sign autographs and pose for pictures, and asked them to give him some breathing room. There was so much noise and confusion, his voice could not be heard. Women fainted and pushed each other into the street.
An attractive woman—very determined—elbowed her way into the mess and yelled loud enough for Taylor to hear, “I’m a reporter. Can I help?”
This was probably the only time Taylor was glad to see a member of the press. She tugged at his sleeve. “Do you want me to get you out of this?”
“Please, for God’s sake, yes!”
“My paper wants a story and I’m going to get it.”
“Just get me out of here.”
“Will you give me that story?”
“Yes . ..”
“When? ”
“Just get me out of here!”
“I want that story now—not tomorrow.”
“Lady, do something. Damn, I’ll give you the best story you’ve ever written!”
“Is that a promise?”
“Do you want an obituary? Lady, this is the worst mess I’ve been in. Yes, I promise, but hurry.”
The determined small girl reporter grabbed his arm and literally yanked his through the crushing stampede to her car and shoved him in.
Within seconds she was on her way with Robert Taylor beside her.

They drove to a remote beach and she said, “Stay right here!”
He sat for fifteen minutes looking out at the ocean wishing he were homeward bound.
When she returned she had a basketful of food and a bathing suit for him. They went swimming, had lunch and talked.
Taylor said he didn’t have the feeling he was talking to a reporter. “After spending time with her she was a woman—simple as that—and I enjoyed her company.
“I guess she got her story, don’t know. We stayed on the beach long after dark and later she drove me to a small hotel.
“I really think she forgot I was Robert Taylor. Because of her I would have stayed in Honolulu as planned. She could have ‘made’ my vacation, but after that scene at the pier, I knew it would be impossible.”
The next day he took the same boat home to California.
The public had awaited with great anticipation the release of Camille mainly because of Garbo. But Robert Taylor was voted the number-one popular male star in 1936. . . and was also considered the “prettiest” face on the screen.
A woman reporter asked him for an interview, saying she was going to call her article “HasRobert Taylor Changed?”
“She had written a story about me over a year ago and she wanted to compare notes—yesterday and today. When she realized I hadn’t changed, I guess she was disturbed that she didn’t have a story after all.
“She had made up her mind that I was different and I had made up my mind to prove to herthat I wasn’t.
“Then she got on the subject of Garbo. What did I think of her and all that hogwash. I said I didn’t want to talk about Garbo. No one talks about Garbo.
“The woman accused me of hating Garbo. When I told her I had no reason to hate her,she accused me of being in love with her! The interview ended with this dame telling me whom I liked and whom I disliked; how I had changed from aneasy-going guy to a ‘tough’ interview-type.
“Well, at least it was nice to know what and who I am . . .”

“What happened when you got home?”
“Yipes!Barbara was frantic. She had been driving all over town looking for me. Mayer thought I had been kidnapped or something! The make-up men were terrified I had been exposed to the sun and all in all, it was a mess. Whatever pleasure I got that day in the country was ruined.” (Gordon Kahn, New York Daily Mirror, 1936)
Kahn said he thought, after talking to Taylor, that the kid would be happier on a farm in Nebraska.
Talking to the current Heart Throb of the Nation was like talking to your next door neighbor. He was so simple, yet so puzzling.
Barbara felt sorry for Bob, and though she never guided him with his career, she was in there pitching for him. He had complete and utter faith in her.
She had been chosen for the lead in Stella Dallas through the efforts of Joel McCrea, a friend of Taylor’s.

McCrea,also a graduate of Pomona, had met Taylor in the men’s roomat the Coconut Grove. Bob came up to him with a letter of introduction and said, “This is a terrible place to do it, but I’m scared of all those big starsyou’re sitting with.”
McCrea was dining with Marion Davies, Norma Shearer and Mary Pickford that night. He said, “Not long after that meeting, Bob was a bigger star than me.” (Forty years later when McCrea came out of retirement, he said he particularly remembered Robert Taylor above all of his contemporaries.)
But in1936 he was working at Paramount with Barbara and he told her that Goldwyn was going to do Stella Dallas. When she heard about it, Barbara said she would give anything to get the part.
He went to Goldwyn, but though she was given a screen test, she had three strikes against her: Goldwyn didn’t think she could handle the part because she as too young and inexperienced with children.
However, when he saw the results of the birthday scene in Stella Dallas that Anne Shirley did with Barbara—talking all day to do it rather than the usual few hours—he gave her the part.