The Secret Letters of Marilyn Monroe and Jacqueline Kennedy: A Novel

by Wendy Leigh

  You asked why I never tell Jack that I adore him. I don’t restrict that maxim to Jack. Before we were married, I employed the identical tactics with all my other beaux as well. You will not be in the least bit surprised, I know, if I tell you that my tactics were dictated by my father’s advice on how to attract a man, how to seduce a man, and how to keep a man. Through the years, I have found my father’s advice to be infallible—and I know that he would be immensely flattered were I to share them with you.* Please know, however, that you are the only other woman to whom I would ever dream of entrusting such valuable information, but because we are now firm, friends, I do so in the knowledge that you will keep it entirely secret.

  1. Be vague and distant from a man—so you play on his imagination.

  2. Don’t always project the same image with the same man—be a little girl one minute, and a predatory masculine-style seductress the next.

  3. Promise a man everything, but give him as little as possible.

  4. Be evasive and elusive.

  5. Always avoid being predictable.

  6. Try and judge a man’s mood of the moment, then blend in accordingly.

  7. Alternate between being prim and ladylike, and being lascivious and suggestive, between being impish and coy, outgoing and shy.

  8. Let a man know that you have many other admirers on tap, all vying for your attention.

  9. Be mysterious, yet hint that you have the capacity to be adventurous.

  10. Never reveal all your thoughts and feelings to a man.

  Please, Marilyn, don’t think that I follow all the above advice to the last letter at all times (heaven forbid!), but it does tend to color the way in which I treat men—Jack in particular (although, naturally, I will never let him know it, and trust that you will keep my secret, as I do all of yours). That said, I hope my father’s maxims, however cynical, will serve to amuse you.

  My sister Lee has just arrived for lunch, so I am afraid I must close. Good luck with The Seven Year Itch). I am looking forward to seeing it with the greatest anticipation.

  Love,

  Jackie

  * “As for Jackie: ‘She wasn’t bothered, not at all,’ said Peter Lawford. ‘Every man in the room was drooling over Marilyn. Jackie would have thought something was wrong if Jack hadn’t stared at her’” ¢see Bradford).

  Jackie wrote in her diary, “If I gave father even a glimmer that none other than MM was riveted by his seduction advice, he’d be on the next plane out to L.A. But I won’t. The prospect of him and MM as an item is too harrowing to contemplate. Besides, I like her far too much to subject her to him.”

  MARILYN MONROE

  Suite 1105

  The St. Regis Hotel

  Senator and Mrs. John F. Kennedy

  3321 Dent Place

  Washington, D.C.

  September 15, 1954

  Dear Jackie,

  Thank you for your warm and friendly letter. I started to write you back the day it arrived. But Joe came back in again, saw the name Kennedy, and went crazy. Now, though, I am alone, as he is at Toots Shoor’s [sic], and want to write to you at last.

  Before I write anything else—and there is a lot—thank you for sharing your father’s seduction secrets with me. Looks like I’m going to need them. …

  What you said about Joe’s jealousy was so kind. But he practically punches every man who ever looks at me and he hates all my movie parts and says he is fed up with me playing sluts. I keep trying to explain that playing is all I’m doing and that acting is playing, like baseball. But he can’t seem to see it. I keep telling him that it is nice when people fantasise [sic] about me—although sometimes I wish they would realise [sic] about me as well. But he is either unwilling or unable to understand.

  He says he feels like he is two people and that one of him really wants to be on the set when I am doing a love scene, applauding. The other half wants to kill the man to whom I am making love. This morning, I wasn’t doing a love scene with anyone, so I thought it would be fine for Joe to come on the set. I hoped he would be proud of me, but he went beserk [sic]. Joe likes all the crowds to worship him—and they do. But he doesn’t want them to even like me. All he wants is for me to hang around at home while he watches TV and drinks beer. He wanted Marilyn Monroe, now he’s got her, and all he really wants her to be is a little housewife from Podunk. After all, neither of us, Jackie, are housewives—are we? I remember what you told me about writing in your high school yearbook that your ambition was not to be a housewife but to be Queen of the Circus. I feel the same way because I have far too many fantasies to be a housewife.

  Today we filmed a scene outside the Trans-Lux movie theater on Lexington Avenue in which I stand on the subway grate and my skirt blows up in the air, showing my legs. There was almost a riot, but I wasn’t scared because the crowd was so warm and friendly. They roared and cheered for two whole hours, and I was real happy and waved and smiled right back at them. A couple of times, I ran back into the theater for a quick cup of coffee because, what with the wind machine and the weather, I was freezing, but I didn’t stay inside long because I didn’t want to disappoint the crowds. When I went outside again, they roared even louder than before and I loved it. I didn’t see anything wrong with what I did, till Joe came along and his face went dark as death. He stormed off to a bar, and now I don’t know where he is. So I came back here to write to you. But I am not ashamed of what I did and I think you would approve as well, because it was only acting. Besides, I have never been shy about my body. After all, God gave it to me and I—

  October 6. I had to stop writing in the middle of the sentence because Joe burst into the suite and started shaking me so hard that the next morning I had big bruises all over my shoulders. I thought he was going to kill me. I was trembling all over. I wanted to scream, but I lost my voice.

  By now you will have heard that we are divorcing. I am not sorry. But I am afraid of being alone again. Before Joe, I always thought of myself as someone whom no one could love. Joe changed all that. Now, I suppose, I am back to square one again. …

  I am sorry that I have taken so long to answer your questions, but I will now. How strange that you know Zsa Zsa, as I do too, but to be honest, we are not friends. She is married to George Sanders, who made All About Eve with me, during which he took a fatherly interest in me. Zsa Zsa found out and cut me dead, which was very unfair because I had done nothing wrong. George didn’t talk to me for the longest time, which made me really mad, because until then, he was so helpful giving me hints on how to play my part. The longer he stayed away from me, the madder and madder I got, till one night when Zsa Zsa was out of town, I slipped on my full-length sable and ran over to his house on South Sherbourne, rang the bell, and when he opened the door, gave him a quick glimpse. Naturally, of course, I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I then ran straight home again. Of course, nothing happened between me and George, but Zsa Zsa still found out and was livid about me and the sable.* Afterwards, I was sorry, because seeing her on the set, always looking elegant, in perfect clothes, with perfect makeup, made me regret that I couldn’t get to know her better and learn from her. Did she tell you anything else useful?

  To tell you my skin secrets—they aren’t anything special. Every morning and every night, I plunge my face into a basin of the hottest water I can stand and keep it there for as long as I can. Then, at night—if I am alone—I cover my entire face and neck in Vaseline and go to sleep that way. Please be careful not to burn yourself if you try it.

  I shall be in New York till the end of October and I really hope you will write to me soon, as I am lonely and love hearing from you. This may sound strange, but it would be safer if you wrote to me under a fake name, because Joe sometimes prowls around the hotel (he wants me back, but I don’t think I’ll cancel the divorce) and I don’t want him seeing any of your letters. He is so jealous that seeing them will remind him of that evening in L.A. and he’ll go crazy again. So please write to me here un
der my favorite alias, Martha—after Martha Washington—I really admire her—Marshall. I’ll work it out with the concierge so she gives me the letters without Joe seeing them.

  Love,

  Marilyn

  P.S. Betty Grable is kind, friendly, not the least bit competitive and made your father very happy, I’m sure.

  P.P.S. Please forgive me for not mentioning it before—I was so distracted by Joe’s terrible tantrums—but I loved Désirée. She had such a fasinating [sic] life, ending up as the Queen of Sweden. I liked the chapters best when she was engaged to Napoleon. It must have been heartbreaking for her to love and be loved by such a powerful man and then to lose him. I thought it was very romantic, and it even took my mind off everything, thank you. Also—and I forgot to tell you this—when I was on the Fox lot doing No Business Like Show Business, I actually met Marlon Brando, who was playing Napoleon in the film.* He was very kind and friendly to me.

  __________________________

  * Zsa Zsa Gabor’s recollections of Marilyn’s nocturnal visit to George Sanders differ somewhat from Marilyn’s own account. In her book One Lifetime Is Not Enough (New York: Delacorte, 1991), she quotes George Sanders as relaying the story to her in the following terms: “Marilyn is so insecure that if a man takes her out to dinner and doesn’t go to bed with her afterwards, she thinks there is something wrong with her. You can’t imagine what happened the other day! The doorbell rings and there stands Marilyn in a beautiful sable coat. I asked her what she wanted and she opened the coat. Marilyn was stark naked underneath. Who am I not to make love to a woman like that? It was wonderful, but really Marilyn was far too professional. Marilyn knows exactly how to make love to a man. And I didn’t pay her afterward either …!”

  * Marilyn met Brando when he was shooting Désirée, and they continued to meet frequently in 1955, after Marilyn moved to New York; he may well have been instrumental in persuading her of the benefits of working with Lee Strasberg. Rumors made the rounds of an affair between these two stars, based on the many times they were seen out on the town, going to the theater or restaurants. In December 1955, Marilyn was Brando’s guest at the premier of The Rose Tattoo, after which they went to a celebration dinner at the Sheraton Astor Hotel on Forty-fourth Street (see Victor).

  In his biography of Marilyn, Anthony Summers writes that Marilyn told her friend Amy Greene that she secretly referred to Brando as “Carlo,” and that he was “sweet, tender.”

  Ironically, as was often the case between Jackie and Marilyn, both women were to fall under the same man’s sexual spell. Brando’s undeniably powerful erotic allure appealed to both of them.

  Sometime after Bobby’s death, Lee and Jackie had dinner with Marlon Brando and his best friend, George Englund, at the Jockey Club in Washington. As Brando confided to a friend, after dinner they danced and “she pressed her thighs against his and did everything she could to arouse him. They talked about going away on a skiing vacation together, just the two of them. Brando could feel Jackie’s breath on his ear. He felt Jackie expected him to make a move, try to take her to bed.” However, having drunk too much, Brando was fearful that he might be impotent, made his excuses, and left. (See Just Jackie, by Edward Klein [New York: Ballantine, 1998].)

  Jackie Kennedy

  Suite 2222

  The Carlyle

  Marsha Marshall

  The St. Regis

  October 11, 1954

  Dear “Martha,”

  I was deeply saddened to hear of your impending divorce.* I just got into town and almost called you. But I imagine that at a time like this, you would probably rather be left alone. I want, from the bottom of my heart, to express to you how sorry I am that things didn’t work out between you and Joe DiMaggio. I know that you loved each other profoundly. It is unfortunate that your work came between you. I often dream of having a career, aside from helping Jack, but I think men generally find it intensely difficult to cope with women who forge separate identities.

  In your case, however, that is utterly unfair, because Joe was fully aware that he was marrying Marilyn Monroe. You were Marilyn Monroe when he met you—how could he have expected you to relinquish your identity? But who knows what goes on in the hearts and minds of men?

  You must never forget, Marilyn, that you are very special and very beautiful and that you deserve love and happiness. Do you have a replacement for Joe in mind? Jack and I have been married for over a year now. Sometimes I still feel as if we are: gypsies. Jack makes speeches all over the city and is never home for more than two nights at a time. We stay with his family in Hyannis Port a lot, in a little room on the first floor where Jack used to sleep, so it: really isn’t big enough for more than one person.

  I truly wish that we had a home of our own. If we did, it might give our lives some roots, some stability so that Jack would be able to spend more time with me and the children we want to have.

  I realize this may not be the appropriate time (and forgive me for asking) but this morning, Jack was admitted to the Hospital for Special Surgery—Cornell Medical Center, here in Manhattan. He is having a very complicated operation—a double spinal fusion. Right now, he is in a lot of pain and feeling very low. It would greatly raise his spirits if you were able to find the time to send him a poster or a photograph of yourself. You could send it here to the Carlyle and I would bring it in to Jack when next I visit. Unfortunately for me, his sisters are staying here, too (we have very little in common), and I would be mortified if they get their hands on it and give it to him themselves. Could you please mark it “Private and Confidential”?

  Which reminds me: I just adore your alias. I suppose movie stars invariably require an alias as protection from fans and gossip columnists. At any rate, movie star or not, in case our letters inadvertently fall into the wrong hands, I have made the momentous decision to acquire an alias of my own. You will be amused to learn that I have selected Josephine (after Napoleon’s empress)* Kendall. So let us continue our correspondence under our new aliases. Frankly, the prospect of doing so inures us against the horrific mishap of either the Hollywood hag columnists or the equally vitriolic East Coast scribes getting their vulgar ink-stained hands on our correspondence. Perish the thought! I always open my own mail, so you could address the envelope to Jackie Kennedy, but then put the letter inside a second envelope, addressed to Josephine Kendall. Also please mark the outer envelope and the inner one “Private and Confidential.” I think that phrase describes our correspondence so well, don’t you? It is not my normal practice to confide in other women, as the majority are invariably jealous, excessively competitive, and fundamentally untrustworthy. However, due to your open, trusting, unjealous, and friendly nature, I am delighted to be able to drop my guard and do so readily and happily. Apart from which, I am utterly riveted by your tales of your fellow Hollywood luminaries.

  Your story about George Sanders and Zsa Zsa Gabor was delicious. As for her tips, in the course of our conversation (we were sitting next to each other on a flight from Paris three years ago when I flew there for the Coronation), she did dispense a selection which she had gleaned from experts at MGM. When I mentioned that my large hands are the bane of my existence, she advised me never to wear pale nail polish, as that would only make my fingers appear longer. According to her, if I wore red or dark red polish, that would serve to truncate my hands. By the same token, she also advised that I create the illusion of long legs by always wearing the same color shoes as my stockings. I am not entirely sure whether these hints will be of any use, but in the light of Miss Gabor’s reaction to you in Hollywood, I am amused by the irony of my passing them on to you.

  I am unsure as to when Jack and I will return to Washington again. I am so immensely worried about him. The operation he is having on October 21 may be life-threatening. He has always said that he would prefer to be dead than disabled. I hope and pray that it won’t come to that. But if you are too busy, please do not, under any circumstances, give my request another tho
ught whatsoever. Just look after yourself and guard against allowing memories of Joe to undermine you.

  With my love,

  Josephine

  __________________________

  * Jackie wrote in the Purple Diary, “MM has given Joe D his marching papers. Wonder how Joe K will feel about her now that she is once more fancy-fee and ripe for the picking.… Then again, the poor kid doesn’t really need to get in any deeper with him than she already is.”

  * Sarah Bradford tells of Jackie’s engraving of Empress Josephine, proudly displayed in her White House bedroom. Norman Mailer interviewed Milton Greene, Marilyn’s business partner, and his wife, Amy, for his Of Women and Their Elegance (New York: Macmillan, 1980) and they both confirmed that Marilyn was fascinated by Empress Josephine and loved their collection of books on her.

  The St. Regis

  Josephine Kendall

  The Carlyle

  October 13, 1954

  Dear Josephine,

  I am so very sorry to hear about Jack’s hospitalization and am sending this signed poster by messenger. I hope it isn’t too raunchy for the hospital—but it is the only one I have here in New York.

  I’ve had an idea—but please say if you think it wouldn’t work. If Jack is in so much pain and so depressed, what if we spring a nice surprise on him? What if I got hold of a nurse’s uniform—I could get them to send it out from Hollywood—and sneaked into the hospital dressed that way?* Do you think that might pep Jack up? Or—better still—perhaps I could get you the nurse costume so you could surprise him instead of me. I am sure he would love that even more.

  But if you want me to do it, of course I will.