The Most Interesting
People I
Know
From among her famous
friends and ex-friends
this noted hostess
selects the people who
fascinate her most
By ELSA MAXWELL
I count people interesting
when they are intelligent and
stimulating and have some
element of surprise in their
make-up. They need not be loyal
or kind (and, alas, they often
are not). As a result, a list
of the most interesting people
I know includes persons I
do not approve of, as well as
some I am very fond of.
Fomilv Wrfkly, AwlMt J. I'6-
j
MARIA CALLAS
In my opinion, Maria Callas is the greatest
vocal artist of our century. But I also find her,
as a woman, bereft of the human qualities that
animate her on-stage. It's as if she has given
her total thought and energy to her art and has
nothing left for day-to-day living.
Lasi year, when it was reported she was losing
her voice, I went to Greece to hear her sing
"Medea." I went fearfully. But she sang like an
angel which she is not and I gave reverent
thanks. For although I am no longer her friend,
I shudder to think what would happen if her
voice were to go. Without it, she would have no
existence at all.
It was said she married Giovanni Battista
Meneghini (20 years her senior and not at all
attractive) because he was rich. But I am sure
the real reason was that he promised to devote
his life to her career.
As it turned out, he commandeered her fi
nances and told her nothing of her affairs.
During her marriage to him, she never had
more than a few francs in her purse at a time.
When they separated in 1959, she learned he
had not even paid for jewelry he had given her.
In worldly matters, Maria is like a child. Con
sider her last-moment refusals to appear at the
great opera houses of Europe and America
or her temperamental exits before the final
curtain. Certainly, her romantic friendship with
Aristotle Onassis and their now-famous Medi
terranean cruise showed a complete lack of
good public relations and discretion on her part.
To remain friends with a woman like Maria
Callas is impossible. But I also find it impossible
not to be fascinated by her superhuman dedica
tion to her art.
Lis.
W. SOMERSET MAUGHAM
At the end of the 19th century, there was a
young intern in a London hospital, William
Maugham, who kept tempting himself with the
idea of quitting the medical profession, going to
Paris, and becoming a writer.
This is usually a preface to a lackluster
future, if not down-and-out failure. But the
story of William Maugham has a different end
ing. He went on to become the famous W. Som
erset Maugham, author of 25 plays, 20 novels,
and countless other works, which have earned
him well over $4,000,000, set him up in a hand
some Hat in Paris and an elegant villa on the
Riviera, and won him the sobriquet, "The Grand
Old Man of English Letters."
I have known Willie Maugham for years. Un
questionably, he is one of the most compelling
men I have ever met. I have spent countless
evenings watching his sardonic eyes follow
some man or woman around a room. And often,
I thought I've recognized that man or woman
slightly disguised in a subsequent Maugham
story. I've been stimulated by his observations
about people and places and the little dramas
and comedies that are seen everywhere but
which are especially abundant on the Riviera.
I've also been challenged by Willie's excellent
bridge and poker.
As he and I grow older, however, I see him
less and less. I no longer care for him very
much. In his venerable years, he is neither hu
man nor kind. And when he put up for auction
his fine collection of paintings instead of willing
them to his daughter, it was the end so far as
I was concerned. Since he had no need of the
money, it showed he had no feeling for his child.
It may be that Willie became so preoccupied
with his literary dissections that he killed his
capacity for friendship and compassion.
But even as I write these words, I can imagine
the wry smile that would twist Willie's mouth
were he reading over my shoulder.
CLARE BOOTHE LUCE
I admire Clare Boothe Luce.for many reasons.
She has written Broadway hits. She has served
in Congress. She was successful as our ambas
sador to Italy after many "experts" stated
flatly that no woman could ever succeed as a
diplomat in a male-dominated Latin country.
But there also is a less well-known reason
why I rank Clare high on my list. I will never
forget the way she rallied her forces after her
daughter Ann was killed in an automobile acci
dent. For in addition to her grief at losing her
only child, she suffered remorse over the fact
that she and Ann ha'd come to enjoy a close
relationship only a pitiful few years before the
girl's death. Until then, Clare had been so busy
earning a living and following her intellectual
interests that they had had little opportunity
to know each other.
"Ann's death will be the end of Clare," many
friends said.
It was the end of the old Clare. But today,
at 59, she is a more beautiful and brilliant wom
an than ever before. There is a difference, how
ever. She now has a warm faith in the world and
her fellow men. Her new outlook came with her
conversion to Catholicism.
Often, when I haven't seen Clare for months,
I'll get a telegram that will read: "Hear you
have been ill. Take care. We need you very much"
or "All the joys of the Easter season to you,
dear friend."
I find it fun and heartening, too to receive
-such thoughtful, loving messages from one who
is supposed to be a hardheaded intellectual.
i f&W I
COLE PORTER
If you fell in love during the last three or four
decades, Cole Porter probably contributed in
some measure to your emotion. Cole's songs
like "Night and Day," "I Get a Kick Out of
You," and "What Is This Thing Called Love?"
were made for lovers.
Cole and I have been friends for more than
40 years. Still, when anyone speaks of him, my
heart gives a little jump. To me, he was the
mainspring of Paris glamour in the '20s.
Everything that was amusing took place at
the Porters. His wife Linda was so beautiful
that Cole never looked at anybody else. But, at
their house, no one ever wes bored. There the
new dance steps either went into limbo or be
came a vogue. Games which are still being
played were invented there, for Cole has the
liveliest imagination of anyone I've known.
In those days, I was much more social than
Cole. He didn't care enough for parties to risk
the bores among the guests. He would wait for
me outside the house or hotel where I was being
entertained, and as soon as I could decently
escape, I would join him for a tour of the town.
Few people knew Paris as we did. Instead of
going where it was fashionable to go, we visited
places that amused and interested us.
All the love and gaiety Cole and Linda Porter
knew and spread around them were too good to
last. In 1937 Cole was riding on a friend's estate
when a horse stumbled and fell on him. Both his
legs were broken. He was operated on 20 times
or more. Off and on for years, his legs were in
painful casts. When he was composing the
music for "Du Barry Was a Lady," his piano
was raised on blocks so that he, his wheel chair,
and his casts could fit under it.
Through it all, Cole managed to be Cole. But
in 1954 Linda died; and with her gone he loved
life less. When his right leg was amputated in
1958, his love of life diminished still more.
I keep hoping that one day enough spirit will
return foe Cole to prove he still can write the
greatest lyrics and melodies of them all. For
anyone else, this would be a foolish dream. But
with my dear Cole Porter, it could happen.
Family WeeJcly August 5, 1962
) ft
uf -WA'
QUEEN FREDERIKA
One of my favorite people is Queen Frederika
of Greece and it's not because I'm a snob or a
name dropper and she is a queen. The reason
is that Freddy, as she's known to her friends
and relatives, is the "genuine article" both as a
woman and as a queen.
Gen. James A. Van Fleet told me that the
Communists surely would have taken over
Greece after World War II if it had not been
for Frederika. Accompanied by only one servant,
she went into the hills countless times and
talked to the wives of the miners and farmers.
Her discussions of communism alerted them to
its dangers. Her ardent patriotism shamed them.
And their devotion was won by her considerable
bravery lor they knew she risked being killed
at this time.
Frederika is so wonderfully alive, so vivid,
and so democratic it would be impossible for her
to subscribe to any archaic concept of royal
conduct. Somehow, without losing one whit of
dignity, she manages to be exceedingly frank
about almost everything.
For instance, she told me about her unpleas
ant experience with Farouk when she was on an
official visit to Egypt. While a ball was in prog
ress, he led her to a private balcony and tried
to take her into his arms. His desire, if not his
conduct, was understandable; the Queen is very
lovely with her blue eyes, her dimples, and her
young and symmetrical five-foot, three-inch fig
ure. Farouk turned out to be less a fool than I
have always thought him, however. He knew
she meant it when she said: "Release me at
once before I scream the palace down!" He let
go of her immediately.
(Continued on page 9)
Family Weekly, Auwiit 5, 1M2 7