Eurasiana — 10 years ago(December 29, 2015 09:46 PM)

As far as I know, AG has been portrayed in 3 fictional novels: Mario Puzo's "The Godfather" as Margot Ashton; William Woolford's "The Sex Goddess" as Valerie Jackson; and Joyce Carol Oates' "Blonde" as The Brunette/Rat Beauty.
Puzo's Margot was a 1-dimensional bitch and slut; just a nasty piece of work. I didn't find it offensive though, as the character was just a minor (though memorable) mention and after all, their union was very stormy by many accounts, even AG herself.
Woolford's Valerie was the titular, main character. It's been awhile since I read it, but it was a captivating book, and her character was fully fleshed out, the good with the bad, warts and all. Ava fans should check this out if you can still find it as it's very hard to get!
Oates' The Brunette/Rat Beauty is my favorite, despite her somewhat vulgar (though admiring) characterization of Ava. Oates' is very adept at capturing AG's nature/persona in such a short chapter and little space; no surprise as she's the master of the short story. Here's a relevant excerpt (edited for length and warning, some unpolite language):
What a sleek hot-skinned little rat beauty she was. No one like her in all of Hollywood. Ohhh, God. The Blond Actress got high staring & staring.
Yet in her presence, the Blond Actress was shy. It was the Brunette who approached her smiling and seductive. Both women had come to the party without male escorts. (Yet both women were married. Or were they?) The hot-skinned little rat beauty from rural North Carolina. The L.A. born Okie meringue beauty. The one talked & smoked & laughed like a man from the gut, the other emitted faint breathy laughing noises as if not knowing what there were & meant. Oh, the Blond Actress was tongue-tied & stammering & too tall; & heavier than the Brunette by twenty pounds. What a sad, fat cow I am.
The Brunette had soared to fame & notoriety years before the ascension of Marilyn Monroe & yet was not much her elder.
The Blond Actress reticent & the Brunette a raconteur like a man. Except for her size & body & that face, she's a man. Oh, God. It was said of this Hollywood actress that she beep like a man. Took sex where & when she wanted, like a man. (But which man?) She'd been married young & she'd walked away from marriage like one slipping out a back door unencumbered & without regret & no backward glance. Women don't behave this way! How many times she'd had abortions it was speculated. She boasted she had no maternal instinct. Was she a secret lesbian, or not so secret.
She'd become one of the world's highest paid film actresses yet liked to shock by saying frankly, "Y'know, I don't know a beep about acting. I've brought nothing to this business. I don't respect it. It's a living. You don't have to get down in to the actual dirt like in porn or turning tricks." It was said of the Brunette beauty that she walked through her film roles performing scene after scene in whichever order the director directed, with few retakes. If it was good enough for the director, it was good enough for her. She rarely read a script through & knew & cared little of her co-actors' roles.
She memorized her lines by scanning them swiftly while being made up & costumed. She had a passion for gambling& a gambler's quick cunning shallow mind. She had a perfect body, not busty as the Blond Actress, nor with the Blond Actress's billowy rear. She had a perfect face with defined cheekbones, subtly heart-shaped, a delicately cleft chin, & lustrous eyes. You saw that face & thought of Botticelli. You thought of classic Greek sculpture. Certainly you didn't think of Hollywood CA in 1960 & still less did you think of Grabtown NC in the early 1920's.
There was Sinatra, she'd been married to for a rocky few years. Frankie, who'd lost her respect when he'd tried to kill himself with sleeping pills. "For love. For me. Somebody called an ambulance, not me, & they saved him. I told him, "You beep Women take sleeping pills. Men hang themselves or blow out their brains."He'll never forgive me, but other women, even more he'll never forgive."
The Blond Actress said hesitantly how much she admired Sinatra's singing. The Brunette shrugged. "Frankie isn't bad. If you like that American white-guy crooning crap. Me, I go for down-dirty Ngro music, jazz & rock. As a beep Frankie was OK. If he wasn't drunk or doped. He was wired a quivery skeleton with a hot prck. But nothing like his wp buddy what's his name - you were married to him, Norma, for awhile. In all the papers, we read about you tow." Nudging the Blond Actre1908ss, winking, " 'Yankee Slugger' he liked me to call him. Got to hand it to the wps, eh? At least they're men."
The look on the Blond Actress's face. From some distance, this was being observed & preserved & one day would be replayed in indistinct yet classic black & white. The sexy rat-beauty Brunette in purple silk laughing & taking hold of the Blond Actress's stricken baby face in both hands & kissing