The Intimate Sex Lives of Famous People (101 page)

hungry, homeless, hustling cheap tricks in the slums. An English journalist, Julian B. Arnold, stumbled upon Cora in Monte Carlo, where she sat weeping on a curbstone. Taking pity on her, Arnold took her home to his villa until he could arrange for her transportation to Paris. That night as Arnold sat reading in his study, Cora entered in a dressing gown. She let the gown fall to the floor and stood naked before him. “A woman’s vanity,” she said, “should be my sufficient excuse. I found it difficult to rest until I had shown you that, if Cora Pearl has lost all else, she still retains that which made her famous—a form of loveliness.”

HER THOUGHTS:
“I may say I have never had a preferred lover…. A handsome, young, and amiable man who has loyally offered me his arms, his love, and his money has every right to think and call himself my favorite lover, my lover for an hour, my escort for a month, and my friend forever. That is how I understand the business.”

—M.S.

XVII

Everybody’s

Doing It

Philosopher Of Love

NATALIE BARNEY (Oct. 31, 1876–Feb. 12, 1972)

HER FAME:
The leading lesbian of her

time, Barney was a writer of epigrams,

memoirs, and poetry, but she was most

widely known for her affairs and

intrigues with beautiful, brilliant, and

famous women, and for her salon, which

was a meeting place for an international

cultural elite for more than 60 years.

HER PERSON:
Known as “
l’Amazone
”

(“the Amazon”) because of Remy de

Gourmont’s immortalization of her in his

Lettres à l’Amazone
, Natalie was raised in

Cincinnati, O. She had an early predilec-

Barney (r) and friend

tion for all things French and could speak

the language perfectly while still a child. Born into the “fabulous Barney fortune”

(her grandparents on both sides were industrial magnates), Natalie was able to make trips abroad at an early age. At 11 she was placed in a French boarding school, where she realized she was a lesbian: “My only books / Were women’s looks.” Back in America, she was whisked around high-society circles in Washington, D.C., until she had made her debut and was free to settle in Paris. At 32

she bought the townhouse at 20 rue Jacob (the street on which courtesan Ninon de Lenclos had lived two centuries earlier) which was to become the most famous literary salon of her time. Known for its cucumber sandwiches and chocolate cakes, it boasted such regulars as Anatole France, Paul Valéry, André Gide, Gertrude Stein, and Ezra Pound. Once Mata Hari arrived, completely naked, on a bejeweled white horse. Though some of Natalie’s writing was favorably received, she was much like her friend Oscar Wilde, who said, “I’ve put my genius into my life; I’ve put only my talent into my works.” Radclyffe Hall’s
The Well of Loneliness
, Liane de Pougy’s
Idylle Saphique
(“Sapphic Idyll”), and most of Renée Vivien’s poetry were but a few of the literary works Natalie inspired.

SEX LIFE:
Composed, willful, and independent, Natalie Barney saw her life as a series of love affairs. Having learned to masturbate in the bathtub, she was a sensualist at an early age. As she put it: “Yes, at 12 I knew exactly what I liked and I firmly decided not to let myself be diverted from my tastes.” Though not conventionally beautiful, she was bewitching, with a head of long, untamed blond hair, small breasts, and piercing blue eyes. She wore long flowing gowns, which were usually white. Many men courted her assiduously, but Barney remained a “friend of men, lover of women.” She enjoyed feminine women, once remarking, “Why try to resemble our enemies?” She would have sex at any time, and often in unusual places or circumstances; in fields and streams, in theater boxes, or with two women at a time, and she had an unquenchable thirst for conquest. Sometimes when lovers became disgusted with Natalie’s unfaithfulness, they would try to resist her, but they rarely succeeded. As one ex-lover, who had sworn off lesbianism and married, said after seeing Natalie: “[For a few minutes] I committed the delicious sin of abandoning myself to her caresses.”

The Amazon was notoriously good at what she did.

SEX PARTNERS:
Barney’s liaisons numbered over 40, not including countless casual affairs. She had her first physical relationship when she was 16, and had several others before her first famous affair at 22, when she courted and won the fabulously beautiful Liane de Pougy. Liane was the most famous courtesan of the period, and the two women carried on a passionate affair in between Liane’s trips with princes and various nobility who required her services. Years after, when Liane had married a prince, she allowed Natalie to caress her only above the waist. Later Natalie was to say that Liane had been her “greatest sensual pleasure,” whereas Liane, turning pious, called Natalie her “greatest sin.”

During one of Liane’s absences, Natalie met and fell in love with Renée Vivien, a brilliant poet who was morbidly obsessed with the idea of death. Renée could not tolerate Natalie’s promiscuity and eventually refused to see her anymore, whereupon Natalie resorted to such pranks as dressing in white and having herself delivered to Renée’s door in a white satin coffin. Renée came to be unaffected by such dramatics and died a few years later of what Colette termed “voluntary consumption” (she weighed 65 lb.), but by then Natalie had gained her reputation as a
femme fatale
.

After Renée Vivien, Natalie took a host of other lovers, who sometimes stayed simultaneously at 20 rue Jacob. Her greatest problem was keeping peace within the harem. Dolly Wilde, who in both looks and wit resembled her uncle Oscar, would shut herself up in her room with drugs and alcohol when Natalie betrayed her; once she slit her wrists and was nursed by Natalie’s maid. When in better spirits, Dolly enlivened Natalie’s salons with her witty remarks. Dolly was ousted, however, when Romaine Brooks, an American painter living in Paris, jealously ordered Natalie to get rid of Dolly. When Romaine spoke, Natalie obeyed.

Romaine was Natalie’s longest and most serious relationship. They met as both neared their 40s, and remained together—living sometimes apart, sometimes in adjoining houses—for over 50 years. But even as an octogenarian, Natalie had a wandering eye. At 82 she met and seduced a 58-year-old woman who was formerly the heterosexual wife of a retired ambassador. Romaine put up with this liaison for 11 years, and then the embittered woman of 94 refused ever to see Natalie again. That broke Natalie’s heart. Romaine died two years later, and in another two years Natalie followed suit. Her funeral, like all her salons, was on a Friday.

HER ADVICE:
Natalie felt that sleeping in the same bed with a lover was a dangerous practice, leading to “the beginning of an end.” She wrote: “And how many lovers, even the most infatuated and tender ones, leave a stiffened arm under the other’s neck. One wakes up worrying about having snored. This
forgetfulness of the other
in sleep—whether by night or day—seems to me to be the greatest of discourtesies and dangers.”

HER THOUGHTS:
“What did you love the most?”

“Love.

“And if you had to make several choices?”

“I would choose love several times.” (From
Éparpillements
[“Scatterings”].)

—J.H.

Uncle Miltie

MILTON BERLE (July 12, 1908-March 27, 2002 )

HIS FAME:
A comedian and actor, Berle

is perhaps best known for his major role

in popularizing television during its

infancy. His Tuesday night comedy and

variety show, originally called
Texaco

Star Theater
—which ran on NBC from

1948 until 1956—earned its star a 30-year contract with the network and the

nickname “Mr. Television.”

HIS PERSON:
Milton Berle, whose real

name was Berlinger, was born in New

York City. A precocious child, he began

entering “Charlie Chaplin contests” at

the age of six and usually won. He would

sell the prizes, normally $2 loving cups,

for 25¢. Not until his mother, Sarah, started managing his career did young Milton reap any worthwhile return for his efforts. Milton and Mom hit the vaudeville circuit, where she would sit in the audience and prompt laughter and applause. By literally growing up onstage, Berle honed his skills as a comedian, a film and stage actor, and a master of ceremonies, building a repertoire of comedy material that is today unparalleled. In the belief that all jokes are in the public domain, he has unabashedly collected material from other comedians, thus earning himself the sobriquet “the Thief of Badgags.” Berle’s own unique brand of no-holds-barred humor has continually won him new audiences. In 1980, 60 years after his Broadway debut in
Florodora
, Berle was back onstage in
Guys and Dolls
. At the age of 72 he finished a movie called
Off Your Rocker
. This endless activity has prompted his wife, Ruth, to comment, “I can’t wait until Milton gets old.”

SEX LIFE:
Because Berle sometimes appeared in drag in comedy sketches, an insecure segment of the public has questioned his masculinity. In reply to those who suspected him of being a homosexual or transvestite, Berle wrote, “To the best of my knowledge, Milton isn’t. And so what? To me gay is just another way of life, not better, not worse. Just different.” On one occasion, he did dress in women’s clothing to achieve sexual gratification indirectly; he put on a dress so he could accompany a girl to her room at the Barbizon for Women, a hotel where men were not allowed above the lobby floor. Mostly, however, he dressed in drag merely as a form of “low comedy.” His sex life, on the other hand, he has always taken quite seriously.

In November, 1920, Berle made his first Broadway appearance in
Florodora
, a show which marked another first in his life. One Saturday afternoon, after a matinee, he was ascending a staircase to his dressing room when he paused to ogle a scantily clad Florodora girl. Spotting the wide-eyed boy, the girl lured him into her dressing room; when he emerged, he was a man. The metamorphosis took only a few seconds: “One second her hand was undoing my buttons, the next she had me inside her—and from what I know now, there was room in there for the entire [Florodora] Sextet.” His second sexual encounter was with a member of the Mollie Williams Beef Trust burlesque show. He fondly recalled the episode as being “like a green pea going into the Holland Tunnel.” He had wisely shrouded his pea in a prophylactic, which a friend had given him, and he afterwards invested in his own tin of condoms. While prepared for any future tryst, he was not prepared for his mother’s reaction when the tin accidentally fell out of his pocket in front of her. After an uncomfortable moment, she responded with a tact rare in mothers of any generation. “Every time you go out,” she said, “make sure you use them.”

Thanks to Mom, he did not always have to go out. On several occasions, sexual opportunity knocked on his dressing-room door when his mother brought girls from the audience backstage to meet her talented son. Mom would introduce them and then discreetly slip out of the room, leaving the two young people to the mercy of their hormones. Not a panderer, but a pragmatist, Berle’s mother explained to him, “Who can say what can go wrong if the body doesn’t get what it wants?”

When Berle went hunting on his own, his taste in women proved to be eclectic. He had a brief affair with Louise Cook, a black belly dancer, and several clandestine encounters with Aimee Semple McPherson, the famous evangelist.

He cut a wide swath through show-biz womanhood, dallying with Betty Hutton, Dorothy Kilgallen, Wendy Barrie, and Marilyn Monroe, whom he took to trendy Hollywood hot spots because “it was like taking a hungry kid into a bakery.” Serious romance eluded him until he met an actress he calls