Gloria

Fifteen years ago, at the height of my fame, I committed suicide and
died. Now, to most people this would be a drawback to their career, but
my parents had always taught me to be a resourceful young lady and so
it was that I decided to take full advantage of my death. But you must
forgive me, I race ahead of myself and in my haste, I no doubt leave
you, my dear reader, somewhat confused. Therefore, without further
vagaries, let me start a little earlier in my story.

I was born, appropriately enough, in New York, on December 31, 1899,
during the final death throws of the 19th century, - you see there has
always been this motif of death and beginnings running throughout my
life. It should be said that I was not the most attractive of baby
girls. My father, I believe jokingly, blamed this on my mother's
cravings for tomatoes throughout her pregnancy. He said, years later,
that he could give no other explanation to why, at my birth, I shared
the looks and complexion of a rather sorry and shrivelled specimen of
that particular vegetable. (Or is a tomato classed as a fruit? I never
could remember). Anyway, whatever the cause, I remained an unattractive
baby, toddler, growing not into a beautiful swan but rather plain
schoolgirl. It must be said however, that this did not mean that I had
a terrible childhood, far from it. I was an only child and, as is often
the case in such circumstances, my parents loved me dearly, providing
me with anything, and everything, I needed. Indeed, I believe that it
was this attention and near adoration, that created the confident, and
possibly slightly aggressive personality that I was to develop. Anyway,
I mention the above for the impact that it was to make on the rest of
my life and the events that where to lead to my present - how should I
put it - condition.

Psychologists tell us that when we live in a society where beauty is of
the utmost importance we can react in many different ways. This is
especially so, if we happen to be considered plain (God! Now there's a
word I heard a few times as I grow up!) There are just to many of these
reactions to mention here. However, let us concentrate on two. For the
sake of argument, let us call these people Type A and Type B. The Type
A will accept this definition of self; dressing and acting accordingly.
The Type B, on the other hand, will react quite differently, ignoring
the comments that they hear, and may even pursued themselves that they
are the most attractive creatures in the world.

In addition, I have found, and some of those good old psychologists
tell me I might be right, that these definitions, and in-turn
responses, are often defined quite early in our lives. However, we are
not immutable creatures. With age, we change in many ways, not least,
within the present definitions of "beauty". Now, if we happen to be a
poor old type A then we might ignore this change. We may continue to
dress and act as if we are still the same old "wallflower". If we
believe this enough, we might just well look that way to others as
well. This, I have to admit, was the course that I took right into my
late teens. Just call me "good old plain Jane"

Gloria Snyel, although like me not the most beautiful of children, was
a Type B personality. Moreover, she was lucky enough to grow into a
woman that could easily support such a self-image.

Gloria was born within a few days and miles of me. Like me, she to was
an only child. However, these are really the only similarities between
us - well, apart from one other more remarkable one, but I shall get to
that in a moment. However, whereas I was to strive for some form of
intellectual superiority - no doubt a result of my rather stilted self
image - Gloria strove for attention and adoration and where better to
find this than in, what was in 1917, that fledgling industry; the
Movies.

Arriving in Hollywood, Gloria set about getting noticed, funding this
with the little money that she had inherited from her parent's death a
year earlier. During the day, she attended audition after audition.
While at night she would attend any party were she thought she might
meet the fast emerging "players" in this still infantile industry. In
the first of these pursuits, Gloria was far from successful. In her own
mind she was beautiful and a natural 'Star', with a capital S.
Directors and casting coaches on-the-other-hand, although recognising
that she did indeed have "something", did not find the star material
that either they sought or she believed she was. Instead, she found
herself as little more than an extra in many of the hundreds of
"shorts" that were being produced, literally by the day, at that
time.

However, after six months of auditions and failures, it was - while
attending yet another Hollywood party she had managed to get herself
invited to - that Maurice Twate first saw her.

Maurice M Twate was one of Hollywood's more successful producers;
considered by many to be one of its more powerful "star makers". Over
the years, legend has given him the honour of "finding" such Hollywood
luminaries as Charlie Chaplain, Greta Clear, and Margaret Tremor,
amongst a host of many others. While it is difficult to say if all of
these people's success can really be assigned to the abilities of our
Mr Twate, it is certain that there was more than one fledgling star
that would have remained in obscurity without him. I should also
mention, from personal experience, that good old Maurice was the most
misogynistic pig to ever walk Hollywood Blvd. Ops! There I go again,
jumping ahead of my story. My apologies, dear reader.

It has now fallen into the annuls of Hollywood legend as to what
happened at their first meeting and thus making it difficult to tell
the fact from the fiction. What is certain is that Twate recognised in
the young Gloria Snyel the qualities that would go on to make her one
of the greatest movie heroines - and nodoubt the body that would fill
his bed for sometime to come as well. Within a few months of that first
meeting Gloria Snyel, at Twate's suggestion, became Gloria Sweet and
began filming "Arabia". I am sure that I have no need to remind you of
the success of what quickly became one of Twate's, and Hollywood's,
most successful silent movies. In the way that such things can only
happen in the movies, over-night Gloria Sweet became adored and
worshipped by filmgoers around the world. This movie was quickly
followed by a succession of others; "Withering Heights", "The Hound of
the Baskervilles", "Amazon" to quote a few, but no doubt you are, like
the rest of the world, more than familiar with Gloria's early
filmography.

But what of me? Well, by the time Gloria had made her second movie
"Lillian", my life had taken a very different course and things were
very quickly deteriorating. I had remained in New York. During the
premier of "Lillian" - as her leading man, Valentino, was escorting her
along a red carpet, surrounded by press photographers and adoring fans-
I was working in a bookshop in lower Manhattan. A month earlier my
father - who I loved dearly, a love that had grown when my mother had
died 4 years earlier - had also died. The night that Gloria Sweet
received her Oscar for Lillian, I was reading a letter from my fianc?,
George. The letter told me that poor old George felt that he was "not
ready for marriage after all". He was "terribly sorry". He had not
meant to "upset me". He was sure I would recognise this in the
long-term as "being for the best". He reassured me that I would "find
someone more worthy of my love". This snivelling piece of snot (my
apologies but the cowardice and condescension of this letter still
infuriates me), combined with my fathers death, was to lead to course
of events that was to follow. A course of events so out of character as
to be extraordinary.

END OF PART ONE