Jack Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe, two personas built on damaged foundations, casting their dark magic. People wanted to have sex with them, be them, or bask in their orbit, for however long, at whatever cost. But Marilyn had a neediness that Jack did not. She wanted two things: to be loved—a deep, full love that she believed could heal all her wounds—and to be smart. She wanted powerful and famous men to see past the sex symbol and realize that Marilyn Monroe had substance. She always carried a book with her, a serious one. A big one. Ulysses.
