My eagerness to stand on my own feet must have stemmed from learning so early to dance on them.
(Shirley Temple Black, Child Star, p.48)
The life story of Shirley Jane Temple from her birth to the birth of her second child (and a touch beyond for framing purposes) is presented to us with a dry humour not unlike the narrator in
A Christmas Story
. There’s been a great deal of research involved and we get a panoramic view of all the events of the time whether little Shirley let them affect her or not (what her parents were doing, what the political climate of the time was, the Great Depression, racism and sexism in Hollywood, World War II, etc.). Shirley gets a lot of guests at her little cottage at the studio so we’re briefly introduced to a number of celebrities stopping by to say hello, as well as priceless insight on them from a little girl who spent years judging people by how comfortable their laps were. Making cameo appearances as her guests were Mussolini, Albert Einstein, Eleanor Roosevelt, FBI Director Herbert Hoover, and the many famous stars of the era. Some more dramatic ones include Amelia Earhart, who stopped by for a chat and whose travels became a teaching aid through Shirley’s tutor, Klammy-
Shortly before Independence Day on May 30, 1938, our blue line took off from Port Moresby, headed toward flyspeck Howland Island.
"Overcast... cannot see the island," read Earhart's early morning radio message intercepted by the U.S. Coast Guard cutter Itasca. "Gas running low... running north and south..."
Nothing more was heard of her plane, nor its occupants.
In a farewell letter to be made public in the event of her death, Earhart had written, "Hurray for the last great adventure! I wish I had won, but it was worthwhile anyway!"
For several days Klammy left our map thumbtacked to the wall, its blue line ended in mid-Pacific Ocean, a stark reminder of hope dwindling daily. As weeks passed the map became a static object of decoration. Then one day it, too, vanished.
(Shirley Temple Black, Child Star, p.187)
Will Rogers, who befriended her on a backlot and encouraged both her love of planes and her mother’s terror of them -
An unofficial cheerleader for aviation, Rogers had written. "There are eight people killed [in planes] all over America on Sunday, and it's headlined in every paper today. When will newspapers give aviation an even break? If there's a safer mode of transportation, I have never found it." One year later he was dead in an air crash.
(Shirley Temple Black, Child Star, p.67)
And Bill ‘Bojangles’ Robinson, with whom she did many movies before his death:
Robinson walked a step ahead of us, but when he noticed me hurrying to catch up, he shortened his stride to accommodate mine. I kept reaching up for his hand, but he hadn't looked down and seemed unaware. [His wife] called his attention to what I was doing, so he stopped short, bent low over me, his eyes wide and rows of brilliant teeth showing in a wide smile. When he took my hand in his, it felt large and cool.
For a few moments we continued walking in silence. "Can I call you Uncle Billy?" I asked.
"Why, sure you can," he replied. After a few steps he again stopped.
"Mr. Robinson doesn't fit anyway." He grinned broadly. "But then I get to call you darlin'."
It was a deal.
From then on whenever we walked together it was hand in hand, and I was always his "darlin'."
(Shirley Temple Black, Child Star, p.91)
Something we’re deprived of and don’t miss at all are quotes from co-stars about her. In a nice change of pace, if it wasn’t said in her immediate world (the lot, her home, to her parents) it’s kept out of the story. All the better to keep us in the past with little Shirley instead of bouncing in and out of the present.
Child Star
is a masterpiece of storytelling. It takes the usual child star story and turns it into something full of excitement. Maybe it really was that exciting in old-school Hollywood, or maybe our author is just particularly gifted. Or maybe it’s just Shirley’s own passion for life and drama coming through the same way it did on and off the set.
As cameras rolled [George] Murphy and I whirled around chairs and tables, and ended with a quick dancing run up and down a broad stairway. The watching crew burst into applause and called for an encore. The orchestra agreed, so everyone repeated the whole thing, this time purely for fun. Mother was right. I did love the business.
When director Irving Cummings called for a break Murphy stopped, but I kept on dancing by myself. Klammy called, "Come on now, Shirley," her clarion call for schoolwork, so I followed her off, continuing my solo and spinning through an archway with my skirt swirling about my hips.
(Shirley Temple Black, Child Star, p.210)
There’s really very little of the book that can’t be quoted. The story of Shirley Temple’s life is a book of vignettes, each as entertaining as the last. Stories like how Shirley avoided sexual assaults at MGM by bringing her dogs to private meetings. How a navy doctor’s refusal to accept help nearly killed her during the birth of her second child. Some stories had common themes, like ones that highlighted her developing personality traits. Despite being typecast as a frilly little angel in pink tulle she was a mischievous little slingshot-wielding rascal with a desire to take charge.
In Chicago I steered a commuter train on the elevated railway. Visiting George Washington's home downriver at Mount Vernon, I steered a Potomac river launch. But when cruising around New York's inner harbor aboard Jack Whitney's motor cruiser, I had to fight to steer.
"A third of our immigrants entered through Ellis Island over there," Whitney had droned, steering away. "And there's the Statue of Liberty."
"Very nice," I said. "Doesn't her hand sticking way up there look like a man's?" Everyone looked so I squirmed between Whitney and his wheel. "May I steer?"
Swerving this way and that, all was fine until someone spotted a police boat nearby grappling for a corpse. When I went to the railing to get a better look, Whitney retrieved the wheel. Saying I was too young to see a dead man, he pushed up the throttle and sped away. I lost on two counts.
(Shirley Temple Black, Child Star, p.226)
Her skill in front of the camera earns her the nickname One-Take Temple for her ability to memorize scripts overnight, including everyone else’s lines. On the rare times when she’d flub a direction it would often be because her excitement was so great that she’d forget to act frightened. Her descriptions of the productions actually inspired me to look up a few of the scenes she’s mentioned, and I’m blown away by how amazing her dancing is. There’s a good reason her co-stars often complained about her stealing the audience’s attention. Even in her numbers with Bill Robinson it was usually her own footwork I was marvelling at.
But the strongest theme in the book is her relationship with her mother. Gertrude Temple is a constant figure in her daughter’s life and not in the usual stage-mom way. Even if she’s just sitting to the side knitting she can always be counted on to be paying the upmost attention to the goings-on on set, and she works hard to instill a good work ethic in Shirley among her other life lessons. She deserves a lot of the credit for her little girl’s legacy.
The verdict?
Child Star
was amazing and one of the best books I’ve read this year. The stories were well-paced and avoided any lags, the humor was dry and clever, and it managed to project an excitement in the reader that I’ve felt before, but never in a life story (seeing as they are devoid of a climax).
The only possible drawback is that it was too much a suspension of disbelief that someone with no writing credits could come out with such an enlightening, witty, entertaining book all on her own. It seems to share her dry sense of humor, but this much talent borders on unfair distribution. But if it’s not ghostwritten and the late-Shirley Temple Black takes offense at my insinuation, well, there are less amusing ‘ghost writers’ I could be haunted by.