First read in January 1999; reread in May 2018. My original review is shown below, followed by some additional thoughts after rereading.
[Review from January, 1999 reading]
Lola's life was simply sensational -- she was one of the 19th century's most successful courtesans (mistress of Liszt and King Ludwig I of Bavaria, among others). As this biography makes abundantly clear, Lola had more gumption per square ounce than just about anyone else at the time. A completely self-made woman, the Irish-born Eliza Gilbert ran away from an older husband, re-emerging as the exotic Spanish dancer Lola Montez. Taking the major cities of Europe by storm, she cut a swath through proper society. What Lola wanted, Lola got. Even after she fled England after being charged with bigamy and started a new life in the Gold Rush towns of the West, she continued to build on the legend.
An interesting aside: Bruce Seymour, the author, won $250,000 as contestant on Jeopardy!, which enabled him to take several years off from his job and research the book. Seymour's enthusiasm for (and, at times, his exasperation with) his subject transports this biography to far beyond a run-of-the-mill portrayal. One thing I particularly enjoyed about the book was that it was so wholeheartedly pro-Lola --warts and all.
Lola, revisited: May 2018
A year or so ago I joined a singular book club which, unlike most clubs, doesn't assign books but rather themes, leaving members entirely free to choose which books they want, though it's generally accepted that the book will have some relation to the assigned theme. Each person gives a brief synopsis about her book at the meeting, and much interesting discussion invariably results. We're encouraged to be as creative as we wish in interpreting the themes, and it's perfectly okay to read a blog, magazine article, or even watch a TV program that is related to that month's theme. For me one of the pleasures is rooting around to find a book (or several books) that not only fits the theme but that will be interesting to tell the group about.
This month (May 2018), the theme is
Liar!
, with the following directive:
Read something where a liar or lie is a pivotal part of the story. You can read anything...fiction, non-fiction, poem, graphic novel, blog, essay, article...just make sure it has to do with a lie or a liar.
Well, the first thing that sprang to mind was this biography I read nearly twenty years ago. Lola Montez was simply the most brazen, accomplished, and unrepentant liar that I've ever encountered in print. (Though, I have to say, there are people on today's political scene who make her look like an amateur.)
It's always interesting to revisit books that made a strong impression some time in the past, to reflect on that former experience, and to compare it to the second encounter. In this case, I have to say that I left with less regard for Lola than I had before but with a bit more respect for the author.
Lola was, in many respects, her own worst enemy, continually giving way to unreasonable fits of temper, many times slapping people, hitting them with her signature riding whip, or just plain brawling with them. I had to wonder if this were far more than making a show to add to her infamous reputation as a passionate "Spaniard" and in fact a sign of serious mental instability.
But, it has to be said, having established her brand as a fiery temptress, she milked that image for all it was worth. For it was the image, rather than much innate talent, that drew people to her orbit. Based on the swath she cut through society, Lola must have been incredibly magnetic. Men were drawn like moths to the flame. I soon lost count of her lovers. She had, what, three marriages (the second deemed bigamous, which made the third, what, TRIgamous? something like that) and a seemingly endless parade of other lovers, some serious, others mere philanderings. It didn't surprise me to find that some biographers (not this one) believe that she died not of pneumonia but from complications from syphilis.
Furthermore, her profligate lifestyle went far beyond mere mismanagement of money and bordered on stupidity. She made and lost fortunes, repeatedly. Surely she could have foreseen that in the future, her looks and lovers would desert her and that she'd need something set aside? Lola seems to have gone far beyond being willful into territory better described as self destructive.
At any rate, during this second reading, I was less sympathetic to Lola than I had been before, though I did enjoy all the strange encounters and events of her life. I know more now about the 19th century than I did twenty years ago, so I was better able to appreciate what Lola was up against in the 1840's-1860's. She had an undoubtedly important role in the abdication of her patron and lover, King Ludwig I of Bavaria, and the chapters dealing with her time in Bavaria were the most interesting to me.
Unfortunately, I found that the last 125 pages, which dealt with her endless tours as dancer, actress, and lecturer in the U.S., Australia, and Europe, grew repetitive. Seymour was keen to give the readers a blow-by-blow account of her travels, how successful (or not) she was in each city she performed in, what the press reviews were like, whom she met and worked with, how much money she made, and so on. In short, the last portion of the book, with its extensive quotes and heaps of detail, simply went on for too long and grew tedious.
Inexplicably, he gives short shrift (a mere page) to one puzzling episode, when Lola is lured to Paris expecting to make a fourth marriage to a man who purported to be a wealthy nobleman -- but who was no such thing. In this case it was Lola drawn to the liar, a reversal of fortune if ever there was one. I gather that Seymour unearthed little about this episode in his research, which is too bad.
Speaking of which, hats off to Seymour's research, which spanned continents and multiple languages. It was a gutsy and dauntless effort, and even if the book that resulted was, in my opinion, more detailed than it needed to be, it still stands as the definitive (if not impartial) portrait of Lola.