by Amy Gary
From Ireland, Margaret traveled to Lausanne, Switzerland, to ski. The now married Infante Juan Carlos was there, as well. She was thrilled to see him again, and they dined together. Although their reunion was anything but serious, Michael and Charles Shaw, an abstract artist Margaret convinced to illustrate books, surreptitiously planted a story with a gossip columnist. It declared that Margaret had “thrown over” Juan Carlos in favor of Charles. They thought the prank quite humorous, and Margaret complimented them on an “extraordinarily extraordinary stunt.”
On her return to New York, the printer’s proof pages of Clem Hurd’s illustrations for Goodnight Moon were awaiting her. Clem’s illustrations perfectly captured Margaret’s dream and had used her own living-room-turned-bedroom as the story’s setting. Her own green walls, accents of yellow, and her big bed with its bright red spread were perfectly captured in Clem’s illustrations. So were her rocking chair, table, and black telephone. The great green room with the red balloon was her own bedroom and, like her, the little bunny in the story looked out at the moon and stars through the room’s huge window. She also recognized the arched marble fireplace Clem used in his paintings. It was one he knew well from his stay at Cobble Court.
* * *
The reviews of Goodnight Moon were positive, and the reviewers appreciated Margaret’s intention to create a book that was lulling and comforting—a style that evoked Gertrude Stein’s repetitions but was also layered with Margaret’s own thorough understanding of a child’s world. The New York Times praised the book’s rhythms and claimed that the pictures were a perfect complement to the drowsy phrases. However, the head librarian at the New York Public Library was still resistant to the Here and Now style of writing and saw little need for a go-to-sleep book; she refused to purchase the book for her library.
* * *
At the end of November, Michael collapsed at her hotel. She was rushed to a London hospital and then was ordered to rest and recuperate for a few days at the Savoy hotel. The traveling and performing had exhausted her. Margaret boxed up a traditional Thanksgiving meal and sent it to Michael at the Savoy with a promise to be waiting at the port in New York when she returned in December. She would bring along a chauffeur to carry her bags and make her peppermint tea back at home to help her relax.
Diana also would be home for Christmas and would have her new beau, Bob Wilcox, with her. She first met the fellow actor during her summer stock tour and demanded he be hired as her costar for this road show. He was an alcoholic, and soon Diana adopted his habit of drinking before the curtain rose. Her state was not lost on the critics. When Michael read a review that declared Diana to be wobbly-legged onstage and forgetful of her lines, she was furious.
Margaret tried to soothe Michael’s anger toward Diana and Bob by praising his kindness and support for Diana’s talent. Diana and Bob lived together openly at Michael’s apartment, even though she was still married to a tennis pro she had met in California. That was not considered appropriate among the highbrow set, but Diana was unperturbed by what her old friends might think. She hosted large parties and invited friends she knew from the theater instead of debutante balls.
Margaret often stepped across the hall to join in the merriment and was there one night when the legendary stripper Gypsy Rose Lee came for dinner. Gypsy wore a gorgeous flowing black fur coat with a red silk lining. Both Margaret and Diana tried to buy it from her. When their offers were turned down, they pretended to steal it, saying the only person who should own a coat like that was Michael. Margaret entertained some of the guests by walking around the apartment, pointing out places where Michael would have stood, if she had been there, and drolly imitating what she would have said. In her letter to Michael describing the evening, Margaret said she did this because everyone there missed her so, but Michael felt betrayed by Margaret’s allegiance to Diana. After two bad relationships and a wrecked movie career, Diana was now drinking herself out of any possible stage roles. Michael ordered Diana to find her own apartment right away.
When Michael returned to New York, she invited Diana, Bob, and his brother, a renowned New York surgeon, over to tea. Diana knew from the moment she walked in the apartment just what her mother had in mind. Dressed dramatically in a long white stage gown, Michael implored Bob’s brother to get Bob help for his drinking. She then berated Diana for living with an alcoholic actor—it was ruining her career and her reputation, she said. Bob jumped in, telling Michael she had no right to attack Diana or to disparage her love life. He reminded Michael that she was married when she began an affair with John Barrymore. Bob’s brother, who had been expecting a pleasant visit, sat in stunned silence as Bob and Diana stormed out of Michael’s apartment.
This was the first time Diana had firmly chosen someone else over her mother. Diana broke off all contact, and there was little Margaret or anyone else could do to cheer Michael up. Most likely, Bob had also mocked Michael for her lesbian lifestyle.
On New Year’s Eve, Margaret brought home some friends late at night to continue their celebrations. They were loud and happy, singing songs as they entered Margaret’s apartment, but the fun was cut short. Their party woke Michael, who threw a tantrum. She was feeling ill, she said, and wanted peace and quiet. She berated Margaret for her selfishness and told her friends to leave.
Michael became less tolerant of Margaret and more critical of their relationship. Margaret felt the distance between them growing. Giving up her relationship with Bill Gaston had had repercussions for Margaret. She relied more on Michael, who did not want to be the sole focus of Margaret’s neediness or her love. Michael’s resentment bred more insecurity. Occasionally, Michael promised Margaret that she loved her, once even giving her a ring as a token of her affection. Behind Margaret’s back, though, she complained that Margaret was too much of a burden. She hoped Margaret would soon find some man to marry.
Seventeen
1948
When spring comes around
And the cherries are red
I dream of your eyes
And all that they said.
In those shadows of spring
When the cherries were red
The songs were all sung
And the sweet words all said.
I remember the time
Of that wild blooming tree
I was with you
And you were with me.
We lay on the grass
And sweet nothings were said
We gazed up at the tree
Where the cherries were red.
“TIME OF THE CHERRIES”
Unpublished
In April of 1948, Margaret sat at her desk with a copy of a Publishers Weekly article in front of her. It had a lengthy feature on her old employer, William R. Scott Inc., celebrating the publishing company’s tenth anniversary. Bill was commended for the many advances Scott had made in children’s books, but it was clear he had made certain Margaret’s name appeared only as an author in the article. There was no mention of her instrumental role in the company and how many of her innovative story ideas and developments in book design had led to the success of the struggling little company. Instead, Bill took full credit for all her ideas.
She seethed at the slight and marked up the pages of the magazine, bearing down her pencil in anger. She underlined the parts where Bill had revised history, dotting it with question marks and exclamation points. Where he claimed that he was the one who got his staff to write books of their own, she scrawled, “Nuts!!” It was ridiculous for him to grab the credit for starting her off as a writer.
Perhaps Bill Scott was upset by her refusal to submit new manuscripts to him, but until this article, she had thought they were still friends. Bill had criticized Margaret for working with Golden. Other publishers also complained that Golden books were cheap and threatened not to work with authors or illustrators who published with Golden. Margaret huffily defended her decision to write for them. The art and writing was as good, if not better
, than the sugary, overwritten books some publishers were racing to throw onto the bookshelves. The story and illustrations were what lifted a book’s standards; sentimentality was cheap, not binding and paper.
Margaret’s reputation for shouting down her editors was, by now, well known in the children’s publishing world. She usually caved the next day and sent an apologetic letter or telegram but often regretted backing down. Michael convinced her to hire Harriet Pilpel, a respected intellectual property attorney, to review her contracts. In addition, Margaret hired an agent to act as a go-between with her editors and to place her manuscripts. Her time was better spent writing than arguing with publishers and walking around town selling her manuscripts. It had the added benefit of letting her lawyer and agent fight on her behalf for better printing and quirky words she liked to insert in her stories. She knew she needed more time to write.
Before turning over a manuscript to any of her publishers, Margaret would calculate how much it would earn in their hands. Time and again, she earned the most money by publishing with Golden or Harper. Those two publishers encouraged Margaret to let her imagination run wild and wanted her to write books they could publish in wonderful new ways. After Harper’s success with Little Fur Family, Golden paid Margaret extra for first refusal on her novelty book ideas. Some of those ideas were so ahead of anything that had been produced, she needed to make sample books to explain her ideas to their editors.
Margaret made a handmade bunny book shaped like a rabbit, books with foils that shined or glowed in the dark with luminous inks. She cut holes in one book for a stuffed mouse on a ribbon to wind his way into the story. On another she cut an oval hole for an egg to tumble out. She wrote a story that helped a child learn how to tell time that was to come with a pocket watch. Almost anything was possible including books with vinyl records. Both book publishers and record companies were racing to produce recorded stories and songs for radio and television. Neither was producing anything of quality. She knew she could do better and decided to learn everything she could about the music business.
* * *
From the moment they drove into the gate at the Connecticut house, Crispian began barking with joy. He recognized where they were and leaped from the car when Margaret let him out. He ran circles around the house and over the hill, yipping excitedly to be back at this farm. In the distance, Margaret heard the sound of cattle mooing on their way home to the barn, then the honking of geese warning Crispian not to get too close.
Margaret walked on the still-green grass in the warmth of an Indian summer evening. The leaves on the lilacs and trees had disappeared, but a few tomatoes clung to the vine along the fence. The once lush forest had dropped its leaves, and the pasture beyond the house was now visible. Margaret stared at the property she once shared with Michael. It was closed now, in preparation for the winter. The house appeared to be asleep, and it crossed Margaret’s mind that a story about a dreaming house had potential. If she had had time, she would have written it down, perhaps even continued on to a rough draft, but the sun was setting. She had come here to sear the moments she shared with Michael in her mind in case she didn’t return. In case Michael, too, never came back.
In September, Michael had once again collapsed after one of her performances, and the source of her exhaustion over the last two years was finally diagnosed as leukemia. Her doctor believed it was an aggressive form of the disease and estimated she had less than a year to live. He recommended she quit her tour and simply rest.
Instead of following his orders, Michael obstinately refused to cancel any of her performances. She also decided that, if her time was limited, she wanted to experience new places and make new friends. She no longer wanted to live with Margaret and told her to find another place to live.
Margaret was desperate to remain in Michael’s life. At first, Margaret thought she couldn’t live without her. She flirted with the idea of suicide, but Leonard convinced her that it was quite likely Michael would change her mind. So she had continued to write love letters to Michael, reminding her of what they meant to each other. Margaret wrote Michael that they had come to this world separately, but somehow they had found one another. They had once loved each other deeply, and her love was still there for Michael. She once promised to take care of Michael through any sickness. All Michael had to do was give her a chance.
She walked over to the small graveyard where they had buried their dogs. Bright yellow whirls of marigolds dotted the grass. She picked one to press into a letter for Michael. The chrysanthemums they had planted the first year they moved here were in bloom, and the mint they had transplanted from Maine looked healthy. No leaves or fruit were left on the apple tree, but she walked over to it anyway. She found a yellow apple on the ground and picked it up. The fallen apple and gray branches of the tree reminded her of a song she heard as a schoolgirl in Switzerland long ago. She couldn’t recall the title, but she remembered the haunting, emotional voice of the singer. Something about cherry trees and not appreciating the people who really love you. Maybe if she played that song for Michael, it would convince her to come home, that this was the time for them to be together. Margaret put the apple in her pocket and called Crispian back to the car. They drove out of the gate and past the barren trees toward Dot’s home.
* * *
Michael grew steadily more exhausted but hadn’t stopped touring or missed a single curtain call. She and Margaret wrote to each other, but Michael kept her distance from Margaret. She was convinced that the stress of her relationship with Margaret had caused her leukemia. She grew more and more religious as her health diminished and decided her attraction to Margaret was a sin. She concluded that if she was to regain her health, then their physical relationship had to end. If they were really Christians, as both professed, then they should be able to fight their desire to be together physically. They should be able to love one another only as friends.
At first, Margaret was only wounded by Michael’s words, but then she grew angry. She wrote letter after letter to Michael defending the nature of their love. Those letters only grew the divide, but Margaret couldn’t stay silent. She knew Michael’s time was limited and pressed her to remember their old life together. Margaret vowed to change and become someone else. Someone less needy and, if an asexual relationship was what would help Michael heal, then she could become the friend she needed. Margaret simply wanted to be with her before it was too late. Michael’s response was a terse telegram stating that the only communication she could accept from Margaret was complete silence.
Eighteen
1949
Margaret’s Root Soup Recipe
Boil small amount of water and salt. Dice onions and potatoes as you go into boiled water and also chopped parsley and leeks. Take off the minute potatoes are cooked and add more chopped parsley and butter, and cream if you like. The trick is to cook quickly and unevenly, and not for long.
In the midst of all this personal turmoil, Margaret’s professional life was thriving. Golden had offered to renew Margaret’s contract and to increase the number of books of hers that they would produce to four per year. She was in negotiations with Harper for another six books, and three more were coming out from other publishers. Television and radio shows for children were on a rapid rise and had caught Margaret’s fancy. She saw how the blending of sound, images, and emotion she and Leonard aimed to create in the Noisy book series was manifest in television. Even with radio and records, it was possible to mix music, stories, and poems in exciting new ways.
Fortunately, she still held music and performance rights to most of her poems. She could rewrite those and sell them as she wished. She also could rewrite her stories into audio scripts. She went to record companies with samples in hand and walked away with deals from Young People’s Records and Columbia.
Golden, too, was intent on turning their extensive line of books into recorded stories with songs. At first, Margaret fought with Golden’s publisher, Georges Duplaix, to
keep her rights. Georges offered to discuss a deal with her, but she had to keep in mind that Golden also intended to develop television and audio recordings on all their forthcoming books. They could no longer allow Margaret to hold back rights or cut her own deals with other companies. Georges warned her that no matter how much they liked a work, they would decline to publish it if they could not have all rights.
After looking at the numbers, Margaret saw that, over time, she stood to earn much more money with Golden than with Columbia and Young People’s Records. They were producing many more records than either of the other companies and printing more copies of each record they made. Even though the other companies paid Margaret a higher royalty, a record with Golden stood to be the most financially fruitful for her. Harriet Pilpel had negotiated a fair split on those rights, and Margaret quickly rewrote her Golden stories so that they could be performed as songs or sound-rich stories on the radio.
* * *
At this time, Margaret joined ASCAP, an association for songwriters and composers, so she could meet composers who could help put her words to music. Burl Ives, the exceedingly popular folksinger, agreed to lend his voice to one of her songs. She met with Oscar Hammerstein II, Alec Wilder, Rube Goldberg, and a host of other composers. She knew that, as she had with Gertrude Stein and so many of her illustrator friends, she could train songwriters and popular singers to tweak their talents toward what would appeal to a child.
She imagined different ways to combine music and books. For Young People’s Records, she added sound effects to her stories and songs. She wanted Golden to publish an illustrated book of music that could be placed flat on a piano. They could place a sleeve in the front of the book to hold a record album. If they made it oversized, it would stand out on the shelves of a bookstore and couldn’t possibly be ignored.