Glamour: A History

by Stephen Gundle

Here is the first ever history of glamour, ranging from Paris in the tumultuous final decades of the eighteenth century through to Hollywood, New York, and Monte Carlo in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, from the glamorous fictional characters of Walter Scott to iconic figures such as
Marlene Dietrich and Marilyn Monroe to modern idols such as Paris Hilton. The book maps the origins of glamour and investigates the forms that it took in modern times, discussing the role of writers, journalists, artists, photographers, film-makers and fashion designers, occupations like the model
and the air stewardess, cities and resorts such as Paris, New York, and Monte Carlo, and products including luxury cars and jets--all of which are bathed in the public mind with the magical aura of glamour. And he shows how glamour feeds on the middle class yearning for a thrilling and colorful
life, a yearning reinforced by the cinema and the press, which serve as a stage for acting out scenes of a desirable life.

Genres: Fashion, Nonfiction, History, Cultural Studies

502 pages, Hardcover

First published June 26, 2008

Reviews

[Online Footprint · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved it and would like read more from the author.

[Malcolm · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Glamour’ is one of those unsettling things: like art, most of us cannot define it but we know it when we see it. All praise then to Stephen Gundle then for not only giving us a great cultural and social history of a concept, of a thing, of a practice, but also for so clearly defining glamour and its transmogrification over the modern period. He builds his case around two principle strands: the first is that ‘glamour’ is decidedly modern – so his opening discussion deals with revolutionary France, the Napoleonic era and concurrent events in England (Byron, of course) and the USA; the second is that ‘glamour’ is built on a set of strained, almost “oxymoronic qualities….Sleazy elegance, accessible exclusivity, democratic elitism” (p12) as just three of the tropes at its core. I’m convinced by his case, especially that glamour’s appeal is its seeming accessibility (think Diana Dors, Diana Spencer, Naomi Campbell and their stories of ordinariness transformed), its distance from the old hierarchies of the Ancien Régime, even in its twentieth century versions, while still remaining deeply linked to the cachet and cultural power imbued by, dependent on and absorbed from that old order.

In linking glamour to modernity Gundle is able to isolate the appeal of the chic from narrow, controlling power of the aristocracy, especially royalty, to introduce a fluid, dynamic and broadly democratic aspect. That said, he also argues that end of the London season and of the debutant’s coming out weakened the cultural foundations of at least British glamour at a time when the staidness of the post-war era was giving way to the excesses of the 1960s: this is a moment of profound transformation. In making this glamour-modernity link in the context of a study that focuses on France, Britain and the USA Gundle is also able to highlight a range of forms, types and tropes that mark its distinctiveness and difference. These forms, at least in their early days, might best be seen as stuffy republicanism (cold, élite, indulgent, Parisian), muddled constitutional monarchy unable to control its wilder children, and allegedly democratic but actually old style plutocracy – the so-called 400.

This glamour-modernity lineage also allows Gundle to trace the shifts in cultural, social and economic relations that shifted glamour’s environment and accordingly transformed its shape and dynamics. He explores glamour in the context of the new urbanisation of the 19th century, of the creation of sex appeal in an increasingly democratising commercial culture and mediated world, of spectacle, of the Hollywood star system, the jet set and finally mass consumption, the power of photography and late/post-modernity’s excess and pastiche. In doing so he’s given a compelling narrative of the 19th and 20th centuries, and in doing so in a narrative shaped around ‘typical’/illustrative examples of their era has been able to tell a rich and sophisticated story with a light touch. The glamourous have social profiles that means many are known, have left more than traces and if the really wealthy have left extensive records. In deciding to synthesize his case from existing studies Gundle has also given us a valuable state-of-the-art discussion (even if it is the state in 2008) analysis linking Marie Antoinette to Nicole Ritchie.

Amid all this, Gundle has helped define glamour – not in a way that determines what it is (although we can still know it when we see it) – but its social and cultural characteristics. He draws, repeatedly, on the oxymoronic pairings he highlights at the outset to make two powerful points in the conclusion. The first is that a “dialectic of class and sleaze … is crucial to glamour” (p 368): dialectic is the key word here – glamour, by this definition is fluid, ever changing as sleaze and class engage with and struggle against each other with the result that it is ever changing and therefore unresolved. Of course we cannot define it; glamour is a product of a dynamic social and cultural context. The other key point to understanding glamour, elucidated throughout but only articulated late in the case is his argument that glamour always has retro characteristics (just look at Madonna’s referencing of 20th century screen icons, or Dita Von Teese’s contemporary performance of inter-war burlesque) and in being retro is deeply, profoundly and almost certainly essentially aware of its past.

Along the way, we learn some decidedly quirky things – that the word was introduced to English by Sir Walter Scott (of Ivanhoe fame) from Low Scots being my favourite, hopefully useful in a pub quiz one day. Gundle’s skill is in balancing the indicative-person based narrative with a sophisticated theoretical and conceptual frame that makes the book both intellectually satisfying and continually engaging; he has a real skill in shifting between high scholarship and grounded evidence and an empirically rich exploration.

Much as we may hope, we cannot escape glamour, or in the current cultural order the celebrities to whom it is attached: this gives ways to make sense of this inescapable phenomenon, historically grounds it and tells a really good set of stories. What’s more, he also shows how sleaze, elegance, accessibility, exclusivity, democracy and elitism can all concurrently exist in the same phenomenon: would that there were more accessible cultural histories like this.

[Y Sh A · Rating 5 out of 5]

Proper academic take on Glamour and the world of publicity and spectacle developed since the French Revolution. Points out and discussed the evolution of London Regency Era and how the focus by the end of the 1800s is moved to Paris and New York. Touches brilliantly upon the Gilded Age probably providing a exhaustive backdrop to what's been borrowed in the eponymous TV series. As an academic text it's brilliantly researched and sourced, notes are easily accessible not only by chapter but also by page. I personally really like Stephen Gundle's style, this was the second book of his I've read and along with his language mastery and wide international reach of knowledge it always leaves me with the impression that reading his books on a topic gives as wide a range of knowledge as possible.

[Tasha · Rating 1 out of 5]

It was kind of boring, and I think Gundle's definition of glamour isn't solid enough. This book would have been better if he'd narrowed the scope.

[m · Rating 2 out of 5]

Didn't finish as it was not what I wanted. It was mostly a societal critique on consumerism and the like. Critiques are easy, I would like to learn and take away a solid and unified idea from a book.

[Reni Grueva]

I like it academic and it delivers

[Jay · Rating 2 out of 5]

Ahh, glamor. Such an intriguing phenomenon. Picked up this book at the library, should have noticed it was an Oxford University Press book. Sometimes history is fun and fascinating, sometimes it's really boring and gets mired down in details that seem irrelevant. The latter was unfortunately my experience with this book. While I wasn't looking for some kind of Princess Di tell-all rag, I also wasn't looking for an academic discussion on how the idea of glamor has evolved since the French Revolution.
I stopped reading the book a few chapters in, and I'm sure it would be a great read for someone, just not me at this point in my life.
I might pick it up again, but should note that I did disagree with some of Gundle's ideas about the social functions of opulence. Maybe that's because I don't know as much about history as he does, but it did make it hard for me to enjoy the parts that I did read.

[Charles · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's good and interesting and, I am nearly sure, a completely original and exhaustive look at a topic that we all see but we all too frequently don't consider seriously...so that's cool/interesting...especially since I think the topic is cool and interesting and to (sometimes) be taken seriously. I would also say that the text was about 2x longer than it needed to be and that I became slightly less convinced of Gundle's arguments the more emphatically he tried to make them. The text is also poorly edited...a book about Glamour should be meticulous and impeccable...and contain no spelling or grammatical errors.

[Kevin Connery · Rating 1 out of 5]

I have no idea how the author made such an interesting topic so difficult to understand. Disjointed, extremely dry and oh-so-academic without the content to back it up. I quit after a few chapters.