Fragments: Poems, Intimate Notes, Letters
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Fragments is an event―an unforgettable book that will redefine one of the greatest icons of the twentieth century and that, nearly fifty years after her death, will definitively reveal Marilyn Monroe's humanity.
Marilyn's image is so universal that we can't help but believe we know all there is to know of her. Every word and gesture made headlines and garnered controversy. Her serious gifts as an actor were sometimes eclipsed by her notoriety―and by the way the camera fell helplessly in love with her.
Beyond the headlines―and the too-familiar stories of heartbreak and desolation―was a woman far more curious, searching, witty, and hopeful than the one the world got to know. Now, for the first time, readers can meet the private Marilyn and understand her in a way we never have before. Fragments is an unprecedented collection of written artifacts―notes to herself, letters, even poems―in Marilyn's own handwriting, never before published, along with rarely seen intimate photos.
Jotted in notebooks, typed on paper, or written on hotel letterhead, these texts reveal a woman who loved deeply and strove to perfect her craft. They show a Marilyn Monroe unsparing in her analysis of her own life, but also playful, funny, and impossibly charming. The easy grace and deceptive lightness that made her performances indelible emerge on the page, as does the simmering tragedy that made her last appearances so affecting.
put chicken or turkey In 350° oven roasting chicken—3 or 4 lbs. or larger cooks 30 min to 1 lbs. let cook In own juice add little water as you go 1/2 glass vinegar—put In when half done cooks 2 hours put potatoes mushroom—button canned peas—fresh LEE AND PAULA STRASBERG When Marilyn arrived in New York at the beginning of 1955, she soon found her heart’s dream: the Actors Studio, which she hoped would open the doors to a new status as an artist. Just as quickly, Lee Strasberg
shoot. Beaton saw her as a very paradoxical figure, a siren and tightrope-walker, femme fatale and naive child, the last incarnation of an eighteenth-century face in a portrait by Greuze living in the very contemporary world of nylons, sodas, jukeboxes, and drive-ins. What really struck Cecil Beaton was Marilyn’s ability to keep transforming herself, to give the photographer a thousand variations of herself, without inhibition but with a real uncertainty and vulnerability—even though her
the fuse, it is her own weird genius that has sustained her flight. Transfigured by the garish marvel of Technicolor cinemascope, she walks like an undulating basilisk, scorching everything in her path but the rosemary bushes.” He concluded, “Perhaps she was born just the post-war day we had need of her. Certainly she has no knowledge of the past. Like Giraudoux’s Ondine, she is only fifteen years old, and she will never die.” Ambassador Hotel, New York, 1956 FUNERAL EULOGY by Lee
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myself for that’s all I really have and as I see it now have ever had. Roxbury—I’ve tried to imagine spring all winter—it’s here and I still feel hopeless. I think I hate it here because there is no love here anymore. I regret the effort I desperately made here. I tried to fight what with my being I knew was true that due to pressure (it’s going to sound like a telegram) that have come in my work (it’s funny I’ve always accepted even the worst—tried to oppose it if it meant jeopardizing my work)