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Dancing with the Devil: The Windsors and Jimmy Donahue
The story of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor is one of the most romantic of all Edward VIII abdicated his throne and gave up an empire so that he could marry the woman he loved, American divorcee Wallis Simpson. Very few people suspected, and even fewer actually knew, that the Duchess cuckolded him—and almost gave him up—for a gay playboy twenty years her junior.
Blond and slender, Jimmy Donahue was the archetypal post-war playboy. He could fly a plane, speak several languages, play the piano, and tell marvelous jokes. People loved him for his wit, charm and personality. The grandson of millionaire Frank W. Woolworth, Jimmy knew he would never need to work. Instead, he set about carving for himself a career of mischief. Some said evil.
Gay at a time when the homosexual act was still illegal, Jimmy was notorious within America's upper class, and loved to shock. Though press agents arranged for him to be seen with female escorts, his pursuits, until he met the Duchess of Windsor, were exclusively homosexual. He was thirty-five when he was befriended by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor in 1950. The Duchess was fifty-four, and despite the difference in age, there was an instant attraction. A burgeoning sexual relationship – a perverse sort of love – was formed between Jimmy and the Duchess. Together with the Duke, they became an inseparable trio, the closest of friends. As Jimmy had planned, the royal couple became obsessed with him.
With information from surviving contemporaries, Dancing with the Devil by Christopher Wilson is the extraordinary tale of three remarkable people and their unique and twisted relationship.
Blond and slender, Jimmy Donahue was the archetypal post-war playboy. He could fly a plane, speak several languages, play the piano, and tell marvelous jokes. People loved him for his wit, charm and personality. The grandson of millionaire Frank W. Woolworth, Jimmy knew he would never need to work. Instead, he set about carving for himself a career of mischief. Some said evil.
Gay at a time when the homosexual act was still illegal, Jimmy was notorious within America's upper class, and loved to shock. Though press agents arranged for him to be seen with female escorts, his pursuits, until he met the Duchess of Windsor, were exclusively homosexual. He was thirty-five when he was befriended by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor in 1950. The Duchess was fifty-four, and despite the difference in age, there was an instant attraction. A burgeoning sexual relationship – a perverse sort of love – was formed between Jimmy and the Duchess. Together with the Duke, they became an inseparable trio, the closest of friends. As Jimmy had planned, the royal couple became obsessed with him.
With information from surviving contemporaries, Dancing with the Devil by Christopher Wilson is the extraordinary tale of three remarkable people and their unique and twisted relationship.
288 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2000
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About the author
Christopher Wilson
7 books4 followersFor 20 years a leading Fleet Street journalist with columns in The Times, Sunday Telegraph, Daily Express and Today, he is now a best-selling author whose seminal biography of Camilla, the Duchess of Cornwall, is the acknowledged source material for all other books and TV films on the subject. The book, A Greater Love - Charles and Camilla, was turned into a top-rated TV documentary screened in the USA, UK, and 26 other countries around the world.
He is a regular contributor to TV debates and documentaries on the British royals, and he lectures widely on the subject. Currently writing a biography of the Queen’s uncle – Prince George, Duke of Kent (1902-42) – his other books include:-
The Windsor Knot (2003/4/5) – the most comprehensive and authoritative account yet of the Diana/Charles/Camilla triangle. Published in North and South America, Spain, Germany, France and Japan.
Dancing With The Devil (2001) – the unknown story of the Duchess of Windsor’s love affair with gay Woolworth heir Jimmy Donahue. Currently in development as a stage musical.
A Greater Love - Charles and Camilla (1999) - the first fully-detailed account of the love affair between the royal lovers, and an authoritative biography of the hitherto-unknown Camilla Parker Bowles.
Fergie - Her Secret Life (1996) – the inside story of Sarah, Duchess of York’s love affair with Texan businessman John Bryan, and how she reinvented herself as an American icon after her divorce from the Queen’s second son (co-author Dr Allan Starkie).
Diana v Charles (1994) – the extraordinary account of how the royal couple were bugged by security services during the breakdown of their marriage (co-author James Whitaker).
In addition his other books include the highly acclaimed Absolutely Goldie (2000) which remains, despite the Oscar-winning actress’s own autobiography, the only full account of her extraordinary life; Around The World in 80 Years (2003), a biography of the Swedish shipping mogul Arne Larsson; and By Invitation Only, a satire on London society life in the Eighties.
Christopher Wilson is the co-founder of Oxford University’s journalism awards, and for his work in support of student journalism he was elected a member of the Senior Common Room at St Edmund Hall, Oxford’s oldest college. He lives near London.
(source: http://www.christopherwilson.info)
He is a regular contributor to TV debates and documentaries on the British royals, and he lectures widely on the subject. Currently writing a biography of the Queen’s uncle – Prince George, Duke of Kent (1902-42) – his other books include:-
The Windsor Knot (2003/4/5) – the most comprehensive and authoritative account yet of the Diana/Charles/Camilla triangle. Published in North and South America, Spain, Germany, France and Japan.
Dancing With The Devil (2001) – the unknown story of the Duchess of Windsor’s love affair with gay Woolworth heir Jimmy Donahue. Currently in development as a stage musical.
A Greater Love - Charles and Camilla (1999) - the first fully-detailed account of the love affair between the royal lovers, and an authoritative biography of the hitherto-unknown Camilla Parker Bowles.
Fergie - Her Secret Life (1996) – the inside story of Sarah, Duchess of York’s love affair with Texan businessman John Bryan, and how she reinvented herself as an American icon after her divorce from the Queen’s second son (co-author Dr Allan Starkie).
Diana v Charles (1994) – the extraordinary account of how the royal couple were bugged by security services during the breakdown of their marriage (co-author James Whitaker).
In addition his other books include the highly acclaimed Absolutely Goldie (2000) which remains, despite the Oscar-winning actress’s own autobiography, the only full account of her extraordinary life; Around The World in 80 Years (2003), a biography of the Swedish shipping mogul Arne Larsson; and By Invitation Only, a satire on London society life in the Eighties.
Christopher Wilson is the co-founder of Oxford University’s journalism awards, and for his work in support of student journalism he was elected a member of the Senior Common Room at St Edmund Hall, Oxford’s oldest college. He lives near London.
(source: http://www.christopherwilson.info)
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
January 30, 2025
How can anyone take seriously a book which cannot decide from page to page whether there was a 19 or 22 year age difference between its protagonists. Can any author who writes like this:
"Paris in the 1950s was the epicentre of civilisation. The world's poets painters, writers and film makers raced, as if to a child who has tripped and fallen, to help revive the City of Light after the cruel dark days of war and privation. Societies and aristocrats, newly-minted millionaires and ordinary tourists crowded its wide boulevards...This second Occupation was led by America and Britain, two great allies who, having given France it liberty, now sought their own spoils of war - food, wine, culture, music..."
that should be enough to put you off. It put me off, and they are page one.
Christopher Wilson seems to imagine he is somehow overturning the 'legend' of the great Windsor 'love story'. He doesn't seem to realise that job had already been done, many times and the most accomplished demolishers of the legend were the Windsors themselves. That so much sycophantic drivel continued to be written about them after the Marbug files (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marburg...) were released shows how little anyone cared for truth during the Windsor's lifetime.
This is an appalling book, it is badly written, badly constructed, badly researched, just bad in every way. Worse it is superficial in its research. Mr. Wilson seems to think the Windsors were poor and while they didn't have the capital of many of their American millionaire friends they had vast income courtesy of the UK tax payer and free Parisian mansion courtesy of the French government. Their notorious stinginess and freeloading was part of their innate nastiness and vulgarity.
The problem is that Mr. Wilson hasn't explored what is really interesting, not whether the duchess of Windsor was really a man (she wasn't), but how men like Jimmy Donahue could be openly gay at a time when being homosexual was illegal but, in most cases, would ruin careers, lives, etc. Of course being a millionaire scion of a powerful family helped but the complex hypocrisies of this era are unexplored. He doesn't seem to realise that Donahue's involvement with and apparent friendship with New York's Cardinal Spellman fat from adding any laurels to Donahue tends to confirm the less savoury rumours surrounding the cardinal, unmentioned and probably unknown by Mr. Wilson. But what Mr. Wilson doesn't know, and more importantly, doesn't know he doesn't know, would make for a far longer and probably more diverting book than this.
Unreadable rubbish.
"Paris in the 1950s was the epicentre of civilisation. The world's poets painters, writers and film makers raced, as if to a child who has tripped and fallen, to help revive the City of Light after the cruel dark days of war and privation. Societies and aristocrats, newly-minted millionaires and ordinary tourists crowded its wide boulevards...This second Occupation was led by America and Britain, two great allies who, having given France it liberty, now sought their own spoils of war - food, wine, culture, music..."
that should be enough to put you off. It put me off, and they are page one.
Christopher Wilson seems to imagine he is somehow overturning the 'legend' of the great Windsor 'love story'. He doesn't seem to realise that job had already been done, many times and the most accomplished demolishers of the legend were the Windsors themselves. That so much sycophantic drivel continued to be written about them after the Marbug files (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marburg...) were released shows how little anyone cared for truth during the Windsor's lifetime.
This is an appalling book, it is badly written, badly constructed, badly researched, just bad in every way. Worse it is superficial in its research. Mr. Wilson seems to think the Windsors were poor and while they didn't have the capital of many of their American millionaire friends they had vast income courtesy of the UK tax payer and free Parisian mansion courtesy of the French government. Their notorious stinginess and freeloading was part of their innate nastiness and vulgarity.
The problem is that Mr. Wilson hasn't explored what is really interesting, not whether the duchess of Windsor was really a man (she wasn't), but how men like Jimmy Donahue could be openly gay at a time when being homosexual was illegal but, in most cases, would ruin careers, lives, etc. Of course being a millionaire scion of a powerful family helped but the complex hypocrisies of this era are unexplored. He doesn't seem to realise that Donahue's involvement with and apparent friendship with New York's Cardinal Spellman fat from adding any laurels to Donahue tends to confirm the less savoury rumours surrounding the cardinal, unmentioned and probably unknown by Mr. Wilson. But what Mr. Wilson doesn't know, and more importantly, doesn't know he doesn't know, would make for a far longer and probably more diverting book than this.
Unreadable rubbish.
November 15, 2009
What's fascinating about this account is not so much the scandal with the Windsors, although that adds even more layers of patina. What keeps the reader enthralled here is anthropology, really. Viewing the relentless pursuits of the senselessly rich and priveleged classes is like going on a wildlife safari in the most exotic and forbidden game reserve around. Spotting Astors, DuPonts, Morgans, Mellons, Wanamakers, Cunards, and various crowned heads -- is the order of the day here, and watching them overstep or embarrass their heritage is the bloodsport.
Enter Jimmy Donahue, wildly rebellious, reflexively irreverent, unabashedly gay and absurdly rich in an era where moderation and dignified behavior was requisite to good standing in high Society. But change was afoot in the twenties and thirties. After a desultory turn at producing Broadway theater, a career which progressed quickly enough to seducing as many cast members as possible, here's Jimmy looking for a mentor :
"His nights, when not occupied with this less glamourous arm of theatre, were spent at El Morocco, New York's jazziest nightclub. It was there Jimmy came to know Libby Holman, the doomed torch-singer who was to remain close to him for much of his life. They had originally met in Palm Beach, and by 1934 she was a major Broadway star, oddly vaulted into the pantheon by the murder two years before of her husband Smith Reynolds, heir to the Reynolds tobacco fortune, who had been shot dead, probably by Libby hereself. Because of the power wielded by the Reynolds family who did not wish to see their dirty linen washed in public, Holman was able to evade being charged; but she walked through the rest of her life trailing a long, dark shadow, condemned by the press and public. It made her dazzlingly appealing in Jimmy's eyes.
Jimmy and Libby had many things in common -- both famous, both rich, both trying to break into the theatre, because Libby Holman had thus far been acknowledged only for her singing. The audiences loved to hate Libby, speculating in the intervals as to just how she had managed to shoot her husband and get away with it; and her hit song 'You And The Night And The Music' had the distinction of being banned on the radio -- the lyrics, and the way Libby sang them, were considered risqué and immoral.
Jimmy revelled in her almost satanic notoriety, and trailed around after her as she cut a swathe through New York nightlife, drinking at the Chapeau Rouge where the owner, Pepe d'Albrew, wore a wriggling mouse in his lapel ..."
As heir to the fortune of his father's Upper Westside rendering factories and his mother's cut of her family's business venture, the Woolworth's chain, Jimmy Donahue was in a position to call his own shots.
"He arranged a lavish party at 834 Fifth Avenue, in part because he enjoyed parties and in part because he wanted to draw attention to himself, but in this latter ambition he was unsuccessful. His cousin Barbara [Hutton:] stole the headlines the following morning for having worn a million-dollar diamond necklace. News of her recent twenty-second birthday party at the Ritz in Paris, with two thousand guests and assorted shopping sprees, brought the Woolworth family riches into focus at a time when the Depression was at it's worst. Blithely, Jimmy chose the occasion to adopt a Hitlerian mustache. During his late teens Jimmy spent much of his time with, or waiting for, Barbara Hutton. As her self-proclaimed court jester, and as someone with a lot of time on his hands, there were worse things to do. As Philip van Rensselaer told this writer, 'Jimmy wanted to be Barbara -- she was notorious, she was admired. She attracted headlines and attention. Above all she had become glamorous, and Jimmy wanted to be all those things.'"
Subject to many of the same well-financed hardships and scrutiny, the cousins were to set new achievment levels for the title Idle Rich. Often well-drugged and sipping cocktails to round it off, Barbara made a life's mission of serial marriage to old Europe mini-royals, often engaging the next candidate before deciding what to do with the current Count or Prince. Louche, vain and fiendishly-humored, Jimmy lived two lives, camping on high amidst the haute-société, and then frequently decamping at night for the company at the sailor's bars in whatever quaint port-of-call the yacht may have dropped anchor for the evening. After yet another Barbara wedding somewhere on the gameboard, Jimmy finds the accomodations unacceptable :
"When the honeymoon party arrived at Hardenberg Castle on the Danish island of Lolland, [Count:] Reventlow's ancestral home, Jimmy had become so used to this cosy propinquity that he became enraged at being relegated to a guest cottage. Alone at night, Jimmy started to burn the cottage's furniture -- tables, chairs, stools -- in the fireplace along with more conventional materials. To the attendant press corps, he imitated the count's stiff germanic mannerisms. This went down terribly well."
Jimmy's newfound talent for mimicry was not to be wasted on Denmark alone. The honeymoon was just gathering steam :
"By September the entourage had moved to Paris, then on to Rome and the royal suite of the Grand Hotel. Rome, by late 1935, was overrun by Mussolini's fascist mobs, dressed in their black shirts and terrorizing the populace. Cars were torched, stores looted, passers-by attacked, all in the name of the new order. Beneath the tourists' balcony, on 28 September, a seething mob gathered in the plaza by the Via Vittorio Emanuele to celebrate Mussolini's invasion of Ethiopia. Shouting slogans and waving placards, they seemed a ridiculous bunch to Jimmy who was, in the warmth of the early autumn evening, drunk.
Stepping onto the balcony and raising his arm in a fascist salute, he adopted Il Duce's hectoring tones and swaggering posture to bellow, 'Viva Ethiopia! Long live Haile Selassie!' To improve upon the shining hour, he unbuttoned his trousers and urinated on the mob below. Were it not for the instant intervention of the city police..."
When the police were admitted, Barbara was in bed for some reason. Asked if she had seen where a man of Jimmy's description might have gone, she adamantly declared that she had seen no one of the sort. From under the bed came the drunken retort -- Jimmy, howling, "She's not telling the truth!"...
And on it goes. Mr Donahue and Ms Hutton were in their early twenties at this point, and had the world on a string. They had yet to make the acquaintance of the Duke of Windsor at this point, or his American Duchess, so quite a lot of complication yet to unravel. And so many, many parties.
An engrossing, thoroughly trashy, satisfying read.
Enter Jimmy Donahue, wildly rebellious, reflexively irreverent, unabashedly gay and absurdly rich in an era where moderation and dignified behavior was requisite to good standing in high Society. But change was afoot in the twenties and thirties. After a desultory turn at producing Broadway theater, a career which progressed quickly enough to seducing as many cast members as possible, here's Jimmy looking for a mentor :
"His nights, when not occupied with this less glamourous arm of theatre, were spent at El Morocco, New York's jazziest nightclub. It was there Jimmy came to know Libby Holman, the doomed torch-singer who was to remain close to him for much of his life. They had originally met in Palm Beach, and by 1934 she was a major Broadway star, oddly vaulted into the pantheon by the murder two years before of her husband Smith Reynolds, heir to the Reynolds tobacco fortune, who had been shot dead, probably by Libby hereself. Because of the power wielded by the Reynolds family who did not wish to see their dirty linen washed in public, Holman was able to evade being charged; but she walked through the rest of her life trailing a long, dark shadow, condemned by the press and public. It made her dazzlingly appealing in Jimmy's eyes.
Jimmy and Libby had many things in common -- both famous, both rich, both trying to break into the theatre, because Libby Holman had thus far been acknowledged only for her singing. The audiences loved to hate Libby, speculating in the intervals as to just how she had managed to shoot her husband and get away with it; and her hit song 'You And The Night And The Music' had the distinction of being banned on the radio -- the lyrics, and the way Libby sang them, were considered risqué and immoral.
Jimmy revelled in her almost satanic notoriety, and trailed around after her as she cut a swathe through New York nightlife, drinking at the Chapeau Rouge where the owner, Pepe d'Albrew, wore a wriggling mouse in his lapel ..."
As heir to the fortune of his father's Upper Westside rendering factories and his mother's cut of her family's business venture, the Woolworth's chain, Jimmy Donahue was in a position to call his own shots.
"He arranged a lavish party at 834 Fifth Avenue, in part because he enjoyed parties and in part because he wanted to draw attention to himself, but in this latter ambition he was unsuccessful. His cousin Barbara [Hutton:] stole the headlines the following morning for having worn a million-dollar diamond necklace. News of her recent twenty-second birthday party at the Ritz in Paris, with two thousand guests and assorted shopping sprees, brought the Woolworth family riches into focus at a time when the Depression was at it's worst. Blithely, Jimmy chose the occasion to adopt a Hitlerian mustache. During his late teens Jimmy spent much of his time with, or waiting for, Barbara Hutton. As her self-proclaimed court jester, and as someone with a lot of time on his hands, there were worse things to do. As Philip van Rensselaer told this writer, 'Jimmy wanted to be Barbara -- she was notorious, she was admired. She attracted headlines and attention. Above all she had become glamorous, and Jimmy wanted to be all those things.'"
Subject to many of the same well-financed hardships and scrutiny, the cousins were to set new achievment levels for the title Idle Rich. Often well-drugged and sipping cocktails to round it off, Barbara made a life's mission of serial marriage to old Europe mini-royals, often engaging the next candidate before deciding what to do with the current Count or Prince. Louche, vain and fiendishly-humored, Jimmy lived two lives, camping on high amidst the haute-société, and then frequently decamping at night for the company at the sailor's bars in whatever quaint port-of-call the yacht may have dropped anchor for the evening. After yet another Barbara wedding somewhere on the gameboard, Jimmy finds the accomodations unacceptable :
"When the honeymoon party arrived at Hardenberg Castle on the Danish island of Lolland, [Count:] Reventlow's ancestral home, Jimmy had become so used to this cosy propinquity that he became enraged at being relegated to a guest cottage. Alone at night, Jimmy started to burn the cottage's furniture -- tables, chairs, stools -- in the fireplace along with more conventional materials. To the attendant press corps, he imitated the count's stiff germanic mannerisms. This went down terribly well."
Jimmy's newfound talent for mimicry was not to be wasted on Denmark alone. The honeymoon was just gathering steam :
"By September the entourage had moved to Paris, then on to Rome and the royal suite of the Grand Hotel. Rome, by late 1935, was overrun by Mussolini's fascist mobs, dressed in their black shirts and terrorizing the populace. Cars were torched, stores looted, passers-by attacked, all in the name of the new order. Beneath the tourists' balcony, on 28 September, a seething mob gathered in the plaza by the Via Vittorio Emanuele to celebrate Mussolini's invasion of Ethiopia. Shouting slogans and waving placards, they seemed a ridiculous bunch to Jimmy who was, in the warmth of the early autumn evening, drunk.
Stepping onto the balcony and raising his arm in a fascist salute, he adopted Il Duce's hectoring tones and swaggering posture to bellow, 'Viva Ethiopia! Long live Haile Selassie!' To improve upon the shining hour, he unbuttoned his trousers and urinated on the mob below. Were it not for the instant intervention of the city police..."
When the police were admitted, Barbara was in bed for some reason. Asked if she had seen where a man of Jimmy's description might have gone, she adamantly declared that she had seen no one of the sort. From under the bed came the drunken retort -- Jimmy, howling, "She's not telling the truth!"...
And on it goes. Mr Donahue and Ms Hutton were in their early twenties at this point, and had the world on a string. They had yet to make the acquaintance of the Duke of Windsor at this point, or his American Duchess, so quite a lot of complication yet to unravel. And so many, many parties.
An engrossing, thoroughly trashy, satisfying read.
June 10, 2022
I'm giving this 3 stars, mainly for its entertainment value. It is a gossipy account of the intertwined relationship of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor with gay millionaire playboy, Jimmy Donahue - grandson of F. W. Woolworth and cousin of the "poor little rich girl", Barbara Hutton.
The first part of the book is a potted biography of Jimmy, a lively but spoiled little boy who grew into a hedonistic, over-privileged party animal, prone to outrageous pranks in a constant bid for attention. Jimmy's life was overshadowed by that of his cousin Barbara Hutton, who was more newsworthy and more glamorous than he could manage to be. He was a qualified pilot and did attempt to mount a theatrical production, but his mother withdrew her funds, so the project collapsed. This was a pity as he apparently showed some talent in this direction and perhaps could have made something of it.
Donahue's mother, Jessie, kept him effectively on a long leash - she controlled the purse-strings, but gave him a fair amount of rope. He was generous, and when he met the Windsors on the international social scene, he more or less bought their friendship; anytime they went out clubbing or dining together, Jimmy paid. This at first endeared him to the Duke, who was a tightwad. As time went by, however, his friendship with Wallis turned into an affair - despite his being gay and Wallis so much older. The attraction seemed plausible when Jimmy was contrasted with the Duke, who had become a morose individual, unable to adjust to the lack of purpose in his life and no longer able to enjoy the relentless socialising that was oxygen to Wallis.
The Duke bore his humiliation with commendable stoicism, until finally, one evening, reacting to a mild criticism from her, Jimmy kicked Wallis on the shin, drawing blood. At this point the Duke said, "We've had enough of you, Jimmy - get out". With the loss of the Windsors, Jessie Donahue lost the only claim to the social cachet she had managed to achieve.
The book is an entertaining read, full of the rich and famous of the day going on cruises, hobnobbing at El Morocco and other fashionable watering holes and spending money - another of Wallis's favourite pursuits. My main beef is with the total lack of source notes. There is a bibliography and an index, but many quotations are either not attributed, or attributed in passing, with no reference given. For a book like this, not a huge problem, just irritating.
Recommended for a holiday read only.
The first part of the book is a potted biography of Jimmy, a lively but spoiled little boy who grew into a hedonistic, over-privileged party animal, prone to outrageous pranks in a constant bid for attention. Jimmy's life was overshadowed by that of his cousin Barbara Hutton, who was more newsworthy and more glamorous than he could manage to be. He was a qualified pilot and did attempt to mount a theatrical production, but his mother withdrew her funds, so the project collapsed. This was a pity as he apparently showed some talent in this direction and perhaps could have made something of it.
Donahue's mother, Jessie, kept him effectively on a long leash - she controlled the purse-strings, but gave him a fair amount of rope. He was generous, and when he met the Windsors on the international social scene, he more or less bought their friendship; anytime they went out clubbing or dining together, Jimmy paid. This at first endeared him to the Duke, who was a tightwad. As time went by, however, his friendship with Wallis turned into an affair - despite his being gay and Wallis so much older. The attraction seemed plausible when Jimmy was contrasted with the Duke, who had become a morose individual, unable to adjust to the lack of purpose in his life and no longer able to enjoy the relentless socialising that was oxygen to Wallis.
The Duke bore his humiliation with commendable stoicism, until finally, one evening, reacting to a mild criticism from her, Jimmy kicked Wallis on the shin, drawing blood. At this point the Duke said, "We've had enough of you, Jimmy - get out". With the loss of the Windsors, Jessie Donahue lost the only claim to the social cachet she had managed to achieve.
The book is an entertaining read, full of the rich and famous of the day going on cruises, hobnobbing at El Morocco and other fashionable watering holes and spending money - another of Wallis's favourite pursuits. My main beef is with the total lack of source notes. There is a bibliography and an index, but many quotations are either not attributed, or attributed in passing, with no reference given. For a book like this, not a huge problem, just irritating.
Recommended for a holiday read only.
June 13, 2017
l really don't know why I finished this book, other than just being downright NOSY! I really don't enjoy reading about people's sexual debauchery, but this one was like being addicted to watching a terrible accident - knowing there will be carnage, but not sure of how much and unable to look away.
There are some people who just should never be wealthy, and Jessie Donahue (and her son's, after forcing them to live off her UN-earned wealth or face the consequence of being disinherited) is one such person. The hell and evil she brought into the world cannot be totalled here on Earth; but I'm sure there was a plethora of that evil. Had she allowed her sons to attend school and get an education, they may have offered some goodness in the world. Maybe.
But Jimmy Donahue was the Devil Incarnate, with his life and deeds. Add to them, the Duchess of Windsor, who was a slave to money and (it seems) lack of sexual fulfilment with the Duke. Not to mention the Duke's rapacious money grabbing and bitterness over his royal family.
In truth, there is no hero or heroine in this sordid tale, only a cast of greedy, selfish, narcissistic, lazy ne'er-do-wells. One cannot feel any sympathy for any of them - except a small bit for the Duke, who gave up so much for the woman he loved and continued to love until his death. His 'Aldonza' that he only saw as his 'Dulcinea', the Duchess, wasn't worth his worship and ardor and, in the end, was left alone. How did she feel afterwards? Only she can say, but her actions bring no sympathy for the consequences. No matter. All the cast of characters are probably in Hell by now. Dante surely had a section cordoned off for them, surely.
There are some people who just should never be wealthy, and Jessie Donahue (and her son's, after forcing them to live off her UN-earned wealth or face the consequence of being disinherited) is one such person. The hell and evil she brought into the world cannot be totalled here on Earth; but I'm sure there was a plethora of that evil. Had she allowed her sons to attend school and get an education, they may have offered some goodness in the world. Maybe.
But Jimmy Donahue was the Devil Incarnate, with his life and deeds. Add to them, the Duchess of Windsor, who was a slave to money and (it seems) lack of sexual fulfilment with the Duke. Not to mention the Duke's rapacious money grabbing and bitterness over his royal family.
In truth, there is no hero or heroine in this sordid tale, only a cast of greedy, selfish, narcissistic, lazy ne'er-do-wells. One cannot feel any sympathy for any of them - except a small bit for the Duke, who gave up so much for the woman he loved and continued to love until his death. His 'Aldonza' that he only saw as his 'Dulcinea', the Duchess, wasn't worth his worship and ardor and, in the end, was left alone. How did she feel afterwards? Only she can say, but her actions bring no sympathy for the consequences. No matter. All the cast of characters are probably in Hell by now. Dante surely had a section cordoned off for them, surely.
March 3, 2018
The writing gets five stars, the subject matter gets one, through no fault of the author. The main three people are all ugly, down to their souls. You get constant comment from their peers about how delightful they were, but I'm guessing it took a lot of champagne and other stimulants to keep them seeming that way. As for how witty they were, we get few quotes that live up to the compliment. Mostly we get the Duchess and Jimmy Donahue sitting together and giggling over who-knows-what. After a while, I got flashbacks of the cool clique in middle-school, and the feeling that whatever they were talking about could be kept to themselves with no loss to me.
April 17, 2011
The irresistible combination of royalty, money, sex, and scandal- continually fascinating and intriguing. But why? Well, we don't really know the answer to that, but we still soak up the bizarre and self-destructive behaviours of the rich and famous. And in the 1930s there were none more rich and famous and self- destructive or self-absorbed than the Prince of Wales, David, and his complete infatuation with the American divorcee Wallis Simpson. So infatuated was he that when he became King on the death of his father, he threw it away for this woman. And was she even a woman? Plenty of rumours and speculation over that question! As for the ex-King, it would seem his sexual proclivities tended towards the unusual too. A marriage made in heaven you might think. Until the appearance on the scene of the grandson of Franklyn Hutton, founder of the Woolworths empire. Jimmy Donahue, by all accounts was a truly beautiful young man, homosexual, promiscuous, hedonistic and the epitomy of the poor little rich boy, as was his cousin Barbara Hutton, subject of a famous biography called Poor Little Rich Girl. This family is a shining example of how money cannot buy happiness.
In the early 1950s Jimmy and Wallis began a passionate and public affair that lasted four years, making a complete fool of the Duke of Windsor in the process, and yet there was nothing he could do about it other than hope it would run its course. Which eventually it did. The interesting thing is that, despite their ostracism from respectable English society, the Windsors were hot property in the US. Society hostesses competed with each other for the company of the couple in their various social settings. None was more competitive than Jimmy's mother Jessie, daughter of Franklyn Hutton and so extremely rich with money, literally, to throw away. For some years Jessie effectively financed the extravagant and greedy lifestyle of the Windsors, thus giving Jimmy unrestricted access to the couple. Yet none of this money came to Jimmy himself; he was reliant solely on his mother for his own luxurious lifestyle. Sadly, because of this control his mother had over him, Jimmy never actually accomplished anything, even though he was desperate enough and probably good enough to have become a theatre producer.
The meeting of these three unhappy and unfulfilled individuals, as you can imagine was never destined to end happily. Reading this book I was struck by how money cannot buy happiness, and what incredibly wasteful lives these people led. How much they could have accomplished if they weren't so focussed on spending on lifestyle. And what fabulous lifestyles these people led, as detailed by the author. I lost count how many times Jimmy crossed the Atlantic by ship, the number of different beautiful residences and hotels he lived in in New York, Florida, the south of France, Paris, Italy. The lifestyles of the Windsors were much more extravagant - the descriptions of the jewellery, the clothes, the cars. Just fantastic. And makes the tragedy of their lives so much more poignant.
There is an awful lot of detail in this book of all the incidentals such as the ocean crossings, and which society hostess said what about another hostess, and which nightclub they were in one night, and what nightclub the next night. All a little tedious but when you put it all together as the author has done, it presents a drop jaw picture of the lives of such incredibly wealthy and privileged people from about 1920 through to the 1950s. To have money is marvellous and to have more than you need also marvellous, but to have so much that you know you will never ever run out, I think, is really more of a handicap than a joy.
In the early 1950s Jimmy and Wallis began a passionate and public affair that lasted four years, making a complete fool of the Duke of Windsor in the process, and yet there was nothing he could do about it other than hope it would run its course. Which eventually it did. The interesting thing is that, despite their ostracism from respectable English society, the Windsors were hot property in the US. Society hostesses competed with each other for the company of the couple in their various social settings. None was more competitive than Jimmy's mother Jessie, daughter of Franklyn Hutton and so extremely rich with money, literally, to throw away. For some years Jessie effectively financed the extravagant and greedy lifestyle of the Windsors, thus giving Jimmy unrestricted access to the couple. Yet none of this money came to Jimmy himself; he was reliant solely on his mother for his own luxurious lifestyle. Sadly, because of this control his mother had over him, Jimmy never actually accomplished anything, even though he was desperate enough and probably good enough to have become a theatre producer.
The meeting of these three unhappy and unfulfilled individuals, as you can imagine was never destined to end happily. Reading this book I was struck by how money cannot buy happiness, and what incredibly wasteful lives these people led. How much they could have accomplished if they weren't so focussed on spending on lifestyle. And what fabulous lifestyles these people led, as detailed by the author. I lost count how many times Jimmy crossed the Atlantic by ship, the number of different beautiful residences and hotels he lived in in New York, Florida, the south of France, Paris, Italy. The lifestyles of the Windsors were much more extravagant - the descriptions of the jewellery, the clothes, the cars. Just fantastic. And makes the tragedy of their lives so much more poignant.
There is an awful lot of detail in this book of all the incidentals such as the ocean crossings, and which society hostess said what about another hostess, and which nightclub they were in one night, and what nightclub the next night. All a little tedious but when you put it all together as the author has done, it presents a drop jaw picture of the lives of such incredibly wealthy and privileged people from about 1920 through to the 1950s. To have money is marvellous and to have more than you need also marvellous, but to have so much that you know you will never ever run out, I think, is really more of a handicap than a joy.
December 27, 2015
This book is about the relationship between the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, and extremely wealthy heir to the Woolworth fortune, Jimmy Donahue. There was a period of about 4 years in the early 1950s where this threesome was seen everywhere in the jet set/nightclub scene. The author's contention is that the Duchess and Jimmy Donahue had a four-year affair, with the Duke aware of it and looking the other way since he was so obsessed with the Duchess. Adding to the strangeness of this relationship is that in every other situation, Donahue was flamboyantly gay, so why he would be attracted to a woman 20 years his senior, and lavishing many jewels on her which the Duke couldn't have afforded to buy the Duchess, is certainly a mystery. Frankly, it sounded like all three were rather shallow people and didn't think about the other person much at all. Nevertheless, it was somewhat interesting to read--- like not being able to look away from a train wreck, I guess.
**#86 of 100 books pledged to read/review during 2015**
**#86 of 100 books pledged to read/review during 2015**
March 6, 2015
Potentially interesting -- the Duchess of Windsor involved in a torrid, multi-year affair with a flamboyantly gay Woolworth heir -- the book falls flat.
First (and most annoying), it's riddled with errors. For instance, it repeatedly refers to Marjorie Merriweather Post as "kin" to the Donahues. Maybe in a roundabout way -- Post was briefly Donahue's aunt's sister-in-law -- but that's close enough to make them "family" in this book. Names are spelled wrong, dates slip around...bad editing. See enough mistakes, and you start to wonder what else is wrong.
Second, it never provides any insights into why these two would become involved, apart from sexual satisfaction. Since that's the premise of the book, you'd think the author would explore this more effectively.
First (and most annoying), it's riddled with errors. For instance, it repeatedly refers to Marjorie Merriweather Post as "kin" to the Donahues. Maybe in a roundabout way -- Post was briefly Donahue's aunt's sister-in-law -- but that's close enough to make them "family" in this book. Names are spelled wrong, dates slip around...bad editing. See enough mistakes, and you start to wonder what else is wrong.
Second, it never provides any insights into why these two would become involved, apart from sexual satisfaction. Since that's the premise of the book, you'd think the author would explore this more effectively.
September 17, 2011
I loved this book, loved reading about the Duke & Dutchess of Windsor (even thought I like them more in the earlier years). The book was enjoyable but there were some parts that reminded me of another bio I read : Boulevard of Broken Dreams, in that the author reaches too much and speculates too much on the "sexual relationship" between the Duke & the heir to the Wolworth five and dime store fortune. This book caught me off guard by suggesting some weird threesome between the Duke, the Dutchess, and Jimmy Donahue (the heir). But nayway, you can read it and judge for yourself I guess.
December 1, 2012
I was tickled that author Christopher J. Wilson had the same thought I did after reading Caroline Blackwood's "Last Days of the Duchess" - in that we both wanted to know more about the life of Woolworth heir Jimmy Donahue. It was interesting and overall sad - those who have the most seem to do the least with it - but it was a good companion piece to the more interesting "Last Days of the Duchess."
August 22, 2013
It was a fun book and I don't often say that about non-fiction. It was a non fiction trash novel. It included not only Donahue's trashiness in life with and without the Duke and duchess but all aspects of his life. It also covered they way his mother treated him that led him to his debauchery.
I did not know much about the Duke and Duchess so it filled in some information for me there as well.
I did not know much about the Duke and Duchess so it filled in some information for me there as well.
May 7, 2009
Hard to believe a book about the duke and duchess of windsor's friendship with a notorius party boy could be boring, but it really was. Wasteful, shallow people. Just my speed. Can't recommend though.
October 27, 2009
I find it hard to believe that the legacy of this couple is one of the great love stories. Doesn't anyone know the not-so-well-kept secret that the marriage was a farce, and he abdicated the throne for a woman that he didn't even have sex with?
April 3, 2013
Delicious trash reading!
Read
December 4, 2013very interesting
March 31, 2017
If you should find yourself seeking the perfect book while sitting in the backseat of a Bentley en route to Biarritz...
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