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Elinor Sutherland was born in St Helier, Jersey, the younger daughter of Douglas Sutherland (1838–1865), a civil engineer of Scottish descent, and his wife Elinor Saunders (1841–1937).
Her father died when Elinor was two months old and her mother returned to the parental home in Guelph, Ontario, Canada with her two daughters, Lucy Christiana and Elinor.
Back in Canada, Elinor was schooled by her grandmother, Lucy Anne Saunders, in the ways of upper-class society. This early training not only gave her an entrée into aristocratic circles on her return to Europe, but it led to her being considered an authority on style and breeding when she worked in Hollywood in the 1920s.
Her mother remarried a Mr. Kennedy in 1871 and when Elinor was eight years old the family returned to Jersey. When there her schooling continued at home with a succession of governesses.
Elinor married Clayton Louis Glyn (1857–1915), a wealthy but spendthrift landowner, on 27 April 1892. The couple had two daughters, Margot and Juliet, but the marriage apparently foundered on mutual incompatibility although the couple remained together.
As a consequence Elinor had affairs with a succession of British aristocrats and some of her books are supposedly based on her various affairs, such as 'Three Weeks' (1907), allegedly inspired by her affair with Lord Alistair Innes Ker. That affair caused quite a furore and scandalized Edwardian society and one of the scenes in the book had one unnamed poet writing, Would you like to sin With Elinor Glyn On a tiger skin? Or would you prefer To err with her On some other fur?
She had began her writing in 1900, starting with a book based on letters to her mother, 'The Visits of Elizabeth'. And thereafter she more or less wrote one book each year to keep the wolf from the door, as her husband was debt-ridden from 1908, and also to keep up her standard of living. After several years of illness her husband died in 1915.
Early in her writing career she was recognised as one of the pioneers of what could be called erotic fiction, although not by modern-day standards, and she coined the use of the world 'It' to mean at the time sex-appeal and she helped to make Clara Bow a star by the use of the sobriquet for her of 'The It Girl'.
On the strength of her reputation and success she moved to Hollywood in 1920 and in 1921 was featured as one of the famous personalities in a Ralph Barton cartoon drawn especially for 'Vanity Fair' magazine.
A number of her books were made into films, most notably 'Beyond the Rocks' (1906), which starred Rudolph Valentino and Gloria Swanson, and she was a scriptwriter for the silent movie industry, working for both MGM and Paramount Pictures in the mid-1920s. In addition she also had a brief career as one of the earliest female directors.
In 1927, by which time she had published 32 novels, she once again appeared in some verse of the day. Songsmith Lorenz Hart immortalised her in his song 'My Heart Stood Still' when he wrote, I read my Plato Love, I thought a sin But since your kiss I'm reading missus Glyn!
She was so universally popular and well-known in the 1920s that she even made a cameo appearance as herself in the 1928 film 'Show People'.
As well as her novels, she wrote wrote magazine articles for the Hearst Press giving advice on 'how to keep your man' and also giving health and beauty tips. In 1922 she published 'The Elinor Glyn System of Writing', which gives an insight into writing for Hollywood studios and magazine editors.
In later life she moved to the United Kingdom, settling in London. She wrote over 40 books, the last of which was 'The Third Eye' (1940) and she died in Chelsea on 23 September 1943, being survived by her two daughters.
If I'm going to describe Jean Webster's novels as frothy, what on earth am I to say about Glyn? She's the most cotton candy author I have ever come across, an early 20th century Danielle Steele, revelling in scandalous descriptions of passion (lots of burning lips and hot embraces) and conspicuous consumption on a grand scale. This book is heavier on the latter than the former, as the heroine, Elizabeth, is a married woman coquetting her way across the US in the wake of a fight with her aristocratic British husband. The novel consists of Elizabeth's gushing letters to her mother about the joys of America and American men -- she has little use for women other than her friend Octavia -- interspersed with musings on the evils of social mobility, the pleasures of the classes knowing their place, and other such things. Her novels entertain me, but afterwards I always feel like I've eaten too much junk food, and this novel was no exception.
I love this book. It is fascinating to read the impressions people had of America in 1909. For example, on Detroit she writes that "it will be a paradise in 50 years".
La Elizabeth diciassettenne che viaggiava per l'Europa, assediata dai suoi tanti innamorati, è in questo romanzo una giovane madre non ancora trentenne, che, per una ripicca con il geloso marito, decide di seguire, tutta sola, una coppia di amici in una tournée negli Stati Uniti. E se in 'The Visits of Elizabeth' al suo sguardo ingenuo si erano offerti i vizi e le debolezze di una decadente Europa di 'fin de siècle', qui è il Nuovo Mondo, con le sue enormi potenzialità, a farla da padrone. Dalla penna di una raffinata esponente della 'upper class' inglese, per quanto disposta ad accettare con entusiasmo ogni novità, non può non trapelare lo sconcerto per la mancanza di educazione, la ricchezza esibita, la povertà dei rapporti interpersonali, la provvisorietà dei legami matrimoniali dell'emancipata società americana. Ecco la sua divertente reazione al primo impatto con l'aspetto fisico dei suoi compagni di traversata: "It appears as if in the beginning Peter, or someone, called up to the Creator that so many thousand of arms and legs and bodies and heads were wanted to make this new nation, and so the requisite amount were pitched down and then joined up without anyone's worryin to get them en suite". Sorprendentemente, la sola realtà americana che l'autrice salva è, nonostante tutto, quella dell'avventuroso west e dei suoi coraggiosi protagonisti: gli unici nei quali la giovane Elizabeth riconosce la stoffa del 'gentleman' a lei tradizionalmente più vicino.
In a fit of pique over her husband's bad behavior, Elizabeth decides to accept an invitation to visit America, leaving her children with her mother. Convinced her husband is traveling with an old flame, she feels free to flirt with every attractive man she encounters. This backfires when one of them falls seriously in love with her, and she realizes that what is merely an amusement to her is heartbreaking to him.
On the whole the book is not as good as The Letter of Elizabeth, but it is an amusing look at Americans as seen through the eyes of an upper-class English woman. The main difficulty I had was the frequently sprinkling of the N-word through the book. I realize that times have changed, but I found it jarring.
My version of this book is over 100 years old. I had so much fun reading the old book and thinking about how much the U.S. hasn’t changed in all that time, and some of the traits that I really love about us, from the perspective of an outsider. It was just a neat tale to read in this time of endless discord.
I first came across Elinor Glyn in connection with early Hollywood films. A magazine feature I read about Clara Bow, the superstar of 1920s cinema, credited Elinor Glyn with perfecting Bow’s silver screen persona.
Apparently it was Elinor Glyn who invented the “IT girl”, defining a new kind of female desirability in popular culture - a mix of girl-next-door charm and exotic glamour.
So when I happened upon an old book by Elinor Glyn and recognised the name, I was surprised that it wasn’t a film script. Instead, “Elizabeth Visits America” took the form of diary extracts that the eponymous Elizabeth sends as letters from America to her mother.
At first I thought the letters might be autobiographical, drawn from Elinor Glyn’s own diaries. Then I realised that it was all fictional, created by Elinor Glyn and drawing heavily on her own aristocratic connections and intimate knowledge of High Society.
I’m not sure whether the sepia photograph opposite the title page really is a picture of Elinor Glyn – or just a winsome model standing in for Glyn’s alter ego, the Marchioness of Valmond. The charming pencil sketches that accompany the text are definitely Glyn’s own work, as she’s credited for them on the title page.
I found “Elizabeth Visits America” so funny that I often found myself chortling along out loud. It was a pure pleasure to read. I simply hadn’t expected it to be so witty, so vivacious and so wickedly tongue in cheek.
Elizabeth plays people along as the naïve, society fluff-head – the innocent, young English aristocratic abroad in America. But all the time she’s the one confidently in control, one step ahead, calculating exactly what it is that she wants and how to get it.
Sometimes the surreal irony beneath the comic froth reminded me of Dorothy Parker. And some of Elizabeth’s screwball adventures on her trip across America - flirting with diamond miners, ranchers and railroad millionaires - feel like the escapades of Anita Loos’ ditzy gold-diggers in “Gentleman Prefer Blonds”.
But then I realised that Elizabeth was exercising her charms a good fifteen years before Loos’s Lorelei Lee.
Astonishingly “Elizabeth Visits America” was published in 1909. So Elizabeth was no Hollywood “IT girl” or Jazz Age good-time gal. She was an Edwardian lady. And here was I, well over a century later, finding her stories just as fresh and zany as ever.