WHY A MOVIE STAR?

I’ve had some readers recently ask me, “Why did you choose a movie star for your new novel?” It’s a valid question. The truth is, I hadn’t considered ever writing about movie stars because I gravitate to women who are political animals in some way, who defy convention, and stake their own claim. Movie stars, while fascinating to look at, are by and large products of an industry that glamorizes the most socially acceptable versions of women, not necessarily their realities.

Marlene Dietrich was certainly no exception to this. She was manicured for stardom under the ruthless studio system of the early 1930s, her roles selected for her—actresses rarely got to choose which pictures they’d work in—and her image was cultivated to maximize her public appeal. However, she was more than a movie star, as she would prove. What interested me about Marlene was how modern she remains, how much she still personifies issues with which we are grappling today.

Marlene never said she was bisexual. We can designate her with the label if we like, but it’s our label, not hers. She once said, “In Europe, we sleep with whomever we find attractive.” And she eschewed labels for herself accordingly; to her, gender in bed wasn’t a consideration. She defied labels in her own persona, too – wearing men’s suits and black tie when transvestism was taboo, taunting audiences and the press with her enigmatic image and lovers of both genders, while remaining married to the same man for most of her life. Marlene’s gender-bending echoes the current, often contentious dialogue in our society about gender. Do our genitals define our gender? Or is gender a construct of emotional attributions, how we feel inside about who we are? Marlene was undeniably a woman, but she believed that “at heart, I am a gentleman.” For her era, indeed for our own, it’s a revealing and controversial statement.

She also struggled with choices that many women contend with today. Career and motherhood were integral aspects of Marlene’s personality, but she chose her career first because she felt her own fulfillment was as important, as necessary to her survival, as being a mother. She made mistakes as a mother by choosing the route she did, but how many women face the same anguished dilemma, wanting to be realized in their profession while remaining a good parent? It could be argued that Marlene was selfish and neglected her daughter. Or it could be said she made the only choice that felt right for her; in any event, she gave over the raising of her only child to her husband, and this, the stay-at-home dad, is something that married couples today grapple with, as some still look askance when the woman earns the salary while the man cooks the meals. Again, our gender constructs dictate how we perceive.

Marlene’s marriage, for her time, and ours, was unusual. Married young, before she achieved international fame, she doubtlessly loved her husband. But she wanted more: she was ambitious, though she later declared she wasn’t, and her drive to succeed fractured the illusion upon which her marriage was built. She wasn’t content to only be a wife. In time, she was unfaithful to him, and he was unfaithful to her. Adultery can be the most grievous of betrayals and the principal cause of divorce even today. Instead, Marlene and her husband found an arrangement that kept them together, even as both went about their separate lives. Is this ideal? Depends on what we think marriage should be. And isn’t that another hot-button topic in our 21st century world?

Marlene’s fight against the fascist terrors of the Third Reich was deemed heroic, but, to her, she was doing what she felt she had to do. Today, we are in the grip of a xenophobic, terrorism-riddled world, where we fear what we don’t understand and seek out scapegoats to give a face to our fears. The Nazis targeted the Jews, the Roma, the decadents, the gays, the intellectuals, the communists— anyone who did not fit their ideal and could be blamed for Germany's woes. I see echoes of this targeting today, in our current presidential campaign, in the hatred directed toward Muslim communities, and in venomous anti-LGBQT rhetoric. What Marlene understood and put her safety on the line for was that in targeting one group of people, no one is safe. When they start coming after some of us, how long before the rest of us fall prey? No one was safe in Nazi Germany; and that totalitarian stance appalled Marlene. She believed humanity is diverse; that is our beauty. She did not fear diversity because she was secure in who she was. It’s a lesson to be learned.

So, why a movie star? Well, because Miss Dietrich was far more than that. Though she was a product of the glamour system, she was never its victim. She might have suffered for it, but she remained, always, her incomparable self. She was what we should all be: her own person. And that is why I chose her.

I hope you enjoy Marlene’s story.