2 Gladstone, visiting an antique dealer’s shop, admired an early seventeenth-century oil painting depicting an aristocrat dressed in old Spanish costume with a ruff, plumed hat, and lace cuffs. He wanted it badly but thought the price too high.
Sometime later, at the house of a rich London merchant, he came upon the portrait he had so admired. His host, noticing Gladstone’s absorption, approached him. “You like it? It’s a portrait of one of my ancestors, a minister at the Court of Queen Elizabeth.” Said Gladstone: “Three pounds less and he would have been my ancestor.”
GLEASON, Jackie (1916–87), US comedian.
1 While performing at a nightclub in a seaside town, early in his career, Gleason stayed at a local boardinghouse. Finding himself unable to pay the rent, he devised a way of escaping from his lodgings without raising suspicion. He packed up his belongings, lowered the suitcase out of his bedroom window into the arms of a waiting friend, then strolled nonchalantly out of the house in his swimming trunks, heading for the beach. Some three years later, anxious to pay off his debt, he returned to the boardinghouse. The landlady, recognizing him at once, stepped back in horror as if she had seen a ghost. “Oh, my Lord!” she exclaimed. “I thought you were drowned!”
GLUCK, Christoph Willibald (1714–87), German opera composer.
1 Walking along the rue St. Honoré one day, Gluck accidentally broke a shopkeeper’s glass pane. The value being put at thirty sous, Gluck offered him a coin worth about double that. The shopkeeper was about to run next door to get change when Gluck stopped him. “Why bother? I’ll make it even.” And he broke another pane.
GLYN, Elinor (1864–1943), British writer of feverish romances, who popularized the term “it” for sex appeal.
1 Mrs. Glyn’s first manuscript was rejected by a number of publishing houses. Trying a bolder approach, she sent it to another publisher with the following note attached: “Would you please publish the enclosed manuscript or return it without delay, as I have other irons in the fire.” The manuscript was returned a few days later, together with a rejection slip on which the editor had scribbled: “Put this with your other irons.”
GODARD, Jean-Luc (1930–), French movie director.
1 Filmmaker Georges Franju, laying down the law at a symposium, said, “Movies should have a beginning, a middle, and an end.”
“Certainly,” agreed Godard, “but not necessarily in that order.”
GODIVA, Lady (c. 1040–80), English noblewoman.
1 A story first mentioned in 1236 by the chronicler Roger of Wendover relates how Lady Godiva, in the year 1057, exasperated her husband by persistently pleading with him to reduce the taxes on the people of Coventry. To silence her, Leofric declared he would do so only if she rode naked through the town’s marketplace. The seventeen-year-old Godiva called his bluff and set out for the town next day on horseback completely naked. However, by concealing most of her body with her long and copious tresses of hair, she pre-served both her own modesty and her husband’s pride, enabling Leofric to reduce the taxes without loss of face.
GODOWSKY, Leopold (1870–1938), Russian-born piano virtuoso and composer.
1 When the child prodigy Jascha Heifetz made his American debut at Carnegie Hall in 1917, the audience included Mischa Elman, the violinist, and Leopold Godowsky. As the sixteen-year-old Heifetz played, Elman grew restless, fidgeting and wiping his brow. “It’s awfully hot in here,” he whispered to Godowsky, who shared his box. “Not for pianists,” replied Godowsky.
GOERING, Hermann Wilhelm (1893–1946), German military commander, founder of the Nazi secret police force, the Gestapo.
1 Making his way along a crowded railroad platform in Rome, Goering happened to collide with an Italian aristocrat. The nobleman demanded an apology. “I am Hermann Goering,” snapped the marshal.
“As an excuse that is not enough,” replied the Italian coldly, “but as an explanation it is ample.”
2 Goering’s many titles included that of Master of the German Forces. He was particularly concerned with the Bialowieza National Park, which had lost much of its wildlife during World War I. Goering had the forest re-stocked with game and put a restriction on the number of hunting permits issued. So it was that one of the most powerful members of the Nazi party had on the wall of his office the notice: “He who tortures animals wounds the feelings of the German people.”
GOETHE, Johann Wolfgang von (1749–1832), German poet, novelist, playwright, and scholar.
1 As Goethe’s mother lay on her deathbed, a servant girl brought her an invitation to a party. The old lady directed her thus: “Say that Frau Goethe is unable to come; she is busy dying at the moment.”
2 In 1830 Goethe’s dissipated son August, who had caused his father much disappointment and care, died in Rome. When the news was brought to Goethe, he said, “I was not unaware that I had begotten a mortal.”
3 During Goethe’s last years a disciple, Johann Peter Eckermann, recorded his conversations and also took down his last words: “Open the second shutter so that more light may come in.”
4 When a new edition of Goethe’s autobiography was produced by the greatest of the German annotators, a curious footnote crept in. After Goethe’s confession, “With her, for the first time in my life, I really fell in love!” the scholarly editor added an asterisk and the information: “Here Goethe was in error.”
GOGARTY, Oliver [Joseph] St. John (1878–1957), Irish poet.
1 Entering a tavern one day, Gogarty caught sight of a friend wearing a patch over one eye. He greeted him: “Drink to me with thine only eye.”
2 (In January 1923 during the Irish civil war Gogarty, who had played a prominent role in the founding of the Free State, was seized by Republican extremists. William Butler Yeats continues:)
“[He was] imprisoned in a deserted house on the edge of the Liffey with every prospect of death. Pleading a natural necessity, he got into the garden, plunged under a shower of revolver bullets and as he swam the ice-cold December stream promised it, should it land him in safety, two swans. I was present when he fulfilled that vow.”
GOLDSMITH, Oliver (1728-74), British poet, playwright, and novelist, born in Ireland.
1 Goldsmith was talking about the writing of fables, and how necessary it was to make the animals talk in character so that little fishes spoke like little fishes. Samuel Johnson was overcome by laughter. “Why, Dr. Johnson,” said Goldsmith smartly, “this is not so easy as you seem to think, for if you were to make little fishes talk they would talk like WHALES.”
GOLDWATER, Barry [Morris], (1909–98), US politician.
1 Goldwater’s family owned a department store in Phoenix, Arizona. At a party Gold-water was seen in a garish, flowery tuxedo. “One thing about owning a store,” he told the amused guests. “You’ve got to wear the things that don’t sell.”
2 About his fateful run for the presidency, when he was defeated in a landslide of historic proportions, he noted, “It’s a great country, where anybody can grow up to be President — except me.”
GOLDWYN, Samuel (1882–1974), US film pro-ducer.
1 In place of his original surname, which was Polish and unpronounceable, Goldwyn adopted the name Goldfish on arrival in the United States. Goldwyn, the company name, was an amalgam of Goldfish and the name of an early partner, Edgar Selwyn. A lawsuit was brought challenging his right to use the invented name. In the course of the hearing, the judge, who eventually ruled in Goldwyn’s favor, observed, “A self-made man may prefer a self-made name.”
2 In Goldwyn’s office the rows with his top director, William Wyler, were so noisy that Merritt Hulbert, head of Goldwyn’s story department, asked to have his office moved to another floor. “Quiet story conferences make quiet pictures,” retorted Goldwyn firmly. Eventually, however, he and Wyler arranged a truce. “Look, Willie,” he said, “from now on when we meet, we each put a hundred- dollar bill on my desk and the first one to shout loses his money.”
“Okay,” said Wyl
er.
As a result Hulbert stayed on in his office while, next door, appalling insults were traded in whispers.
3 Edward G. Robinson told Goldwyn that his studio was going to make Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice and that they wanted him to play Shylock. Did Goldwyn think he ought to accept the part? Goldwyn’s response: “Screw ’em — tell ’em you’ll only play the Merchant.”
4 Goldwyn is said to have been eager to buy the film rights to Radclyffe Hall’s The Well of Loneliness, a controversial novel dealing with lesbianism. “You can’t film that,” a studio adviser said. “It’s about lesbians.”
“All right,” said Goldwyn, “where they got lesbians, we’ll use Austrians.”
5 A ghostwriter was employed to write a series of articles purporting to be by Samuel Goldwyn. Halfway through the assignment the ghostwriter fell ill and a substitute had to be found. Goldwyn, reading a piece by the stand-in writer, expressed dismay: “That’s not at all up to my usual standard.”
6 Goldwyn, coaxed to change his mind about a particular script, stood firm: “I am willing to admit that I may not always be right,” he conceded, “but I am never wrong.”
7 As Goldwyn and another studio chief both wanted a certain big star at the same time, there was a wrangle about the contract. In the end someone suggested that the dispute be settled by arbitration. Goldwyn agreed reluctantly: “Okay, as long as it’s understood that I get him.”
8 Goldwyn boasted that the greatest living writers were on his team of authors and he would spare no expense to get them, even if his ideas about their output were rather vague. One of the literary celebrities he lured to Hollywood was the Belgian writer Maurice Maeterlinck, winner of the 1911 Nobel Prize for Literature and author of the enormously successful La Vie des abeilles (The Life of the Bee). When Maeterlinck arrived, fearful of his ignorance of motion-picture technique, Goldwyn reassured him: “I know you don’t understand picture technique. That doesn’t matter. All I want you to do is just go away and write your greatest book in the form of a scenario.”
A few weeks later Maeterlinck returned with a manuscript. Goldwyn was delighted and retired beaming into his office, taking the manuscript with him to read. A couple of minutes later he rushed out again screaming. “My God,” he yelled, “the hero is a bee!”
9 Goldwyn’s secretary came to him to ask if she could destroy the files that were more than ten years old. “Yes,” said Goldwyn, “but keep copies.”
10 David Selznick was once greatly alarmed when Goldwyn telephoned him at midnight and said in ominous tones, “David, you and I are in terrible trouble.” His mind racing over possible disasters, Selznick asked what was the matter. “You’ve got Gable, and I want him,” replied Goldwyn.
11 When The Best Years of Our Lives, probably Goldwyn’s greatest film, was due for release, the producer called a mammoth press conference. “I don’t care if it doesn’t make a nickel,” he told the assembled reporters. “I just want every man, woman, and child in America to see it!”
12 Goldwyn found on his office desk one morning a copy of The Making of Yesterday: The Diaries of Raoul de Roussy de Sales, 1938–1942, which someone had submitted as possible movie material. Goldwyn looked at the book in amazement. “How do you like that?” he said. “Four years old and the kid keeps a diary!”
13 Goldwyn had invited writer Louis Bromfield to Hollywood. After two months, however, Bromfield had still been given nothing to do. Exasperated, he finally complained to Goldwyn. “Be patient,” said Sam, “take your time.”
“But why did you hire me?” asked Bromfield.
“For your name, Mr. Bronstein, for your name.”
14 His inability to get names straight was part of the Goldwyn legend. One of his stars, Joel McCrea, was always Joe MacRail. Once, in a meeting, Mr. McCrea gently corrected him: “It’s Joel McCrea, Mr. Goldwyn.” At which Goldwyn burst out, “Look! He’s telling me how to pronounce his name, and I’ve got him under contract!”
15 Director William Wyler had been trying in vain to explain a particular scene to Goldwyn. Exasperated, he finally turned to Goldwyn’s fifteen-year-old son and asked, “Do you understand it, Sammy?”
“Sure,” replied the boy. “It’s perfectly clear to me.”
“Since when are we making pictures for kids?” growled Goldwyn.
16 During the making of a film, Goldwyn had a habit of phoning his associates whenever an idea came to him, regardless of the hour. N. Richard Nash, who was writing the screenplay for Porgy and Bess, was the unfortunate recipient of such a call, at three o’clock in the morning. “Do you know what time it is?” he snapped. Goldwyn paused for a moment, then turned to his wife. “Frances,” he said, “Mr. Nash wants to know what time it is.”
17 Goldwyn was not given to flights of (uncal-culated) sentiment. He and some colleagues, visiting him at his home, were once engaged in a bitter dispute over a script. One of them walked over to the window looking out on Goldwyn’s luxurious lawn. He stood there for a moment, then called out to the other, “Come look. Here we are fighting, and this marvelous, peaceful event is taking place in nature right under our noses. We should be ashamed of ourselves.” The others, Goldwyn last, trooped over. Parading across the lawn were a mother quail and her five little chicks. They stood there for a short time; then the silence was broken by the unappeasable Goldwyn: “They don’t belong here.”
18 Goldwyn and Louis B. Mayer did not love each other. In the locker room at the Hillcrest Country Club in Los Angeles, Mayer backed Goldwyn into a corner and then pushed him into a laundry hamper. Later, chided by a friend about the noisy altercation, Goldwyn said, apparently honestly astonished, “What? We’re like friends, we’re like brothers. We love each other. We’d do anything for each other. We’d even cut each other’s throats for each other!”
19 Once Goldwyn spotted an advertisement for his new movie We Live Again, which boasted, “The directorial skill of Mamou-lian, the radiance of Anna Sten and the genius of Goldwyn have united to make the world’s greatest entertainment.” Nodding, Goldwyn agreed. “That is the kind of ad I like. Facts. No exaggeration.”
GORDON, Lord George (1751–93), British political agitator responsible for fomenting the anti-Roman Catholic Gordon Riots in London in 1780.
1 After his release from the Tower of London, Gordon was accosted by a beggar. “God bless you, my lord,” he said. “You and I have been in all the prisons in London.”
“What do you mean?” said Gordon. “I was never in any prison but the Tower.”
“That is true, my lord, and I have been in all the rest.”
GORKI, Maksim [Aleksei Maksimovich Peshkov] (1868–1936), Russian novelist and short-story writer.
1 On a visit to the United States Gorki was taken by his hosts to spend a day at Coney Island. The huge amusement park was thronged with tourists in holiday mood, and Gorki and his hosts joined in, spending the whole day sampling the sights. As they were leaving the park, they asked Gorki what he had thought of it all. After a moment’s pause he said simply, “What a sad people you must be!”
GOSSAGE, [Rich] “Goose” (1951–), US baseball player.
1 In the 1978 playoff games between the Yankees and the Red Sox, Gossage found himself pitching to Carl Yastrzemski at the bottom of the ninth inning with the tying run on third base and the winning run on first. Yaz had hit a home run earlier in the game, and Gossage felt he couldn’t pitch. But suddenly he found the ability, and he forced an easy pop-out from the famed Red Sox hitter. Later Gossage described what went through his mind. “The worst thing that could happen if we lose is that at this time tomorrow I’ll be skiing in the Rockies.”
GOSSE, Sir Edmund (1849–1928), British biographer and translator.
1 After Swinburne’s death Gosse worked on an edition of the poet’s works in collaboration with the bibliographer and forger T. J. Wise. One afternoon when Gosse was entertaining at his house, a maid took a message from Wise on the telephone that she, not knowing of Swin
burne’s death, misunderstood. She announced loudly to Gosse, “Mr. Swinburne to speak to you on the telephone, sir.” There was a startled hush in the room. Gosse said, “Mr. Swinburne to speak to me on the telephone? I shall certainly not speak to Mr. Swinburne. I don’t know where he may be speaking from.”
GOULD, Jay (1836–92), US financier and railroad magnate.
1 Gould built up a vast railroad empire, the Gould system, in the southwestern states. Just before an impending strike he is said to have observed, “I can hire one half of the working class to kill the other half.”
2 The rector of Gould’s church sought the magnate’s advice concerning the investment of his life’s savings, amounting to about $30,000. Gould suggested, in the strictest confidence, that he should buy Missouri Pacific. The preacher followed this advice and the stock began to rise steadily, only to fall disastrously some months later. The preacher complained to Gould that he had lost all his savings. He was somewhat taken aback when Gould promptly presented him with a cheque for $40,000 to cover his losses. Guiltily he confessed that he had also told several members of his congregation about Gould’s tip. “Oh, I know that,” said Gould. “They were the ones I was after.”
GRABLE, Betty (1916–73), US actress, singer, and dancer.
1 Betty Grable’s five-year-old niece, who was staying with her, asked her aunt if she could join her in the bathtub. “Sure,” was the reply. “Climb right on in.” The little girl did as she was invited. Betty noticed the child staring at her very intently. She asked what was the matter. “I’m just wondering,” said the child, “why it is that I’m so plain and you’re so fancy.”
Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes Page 44