Ava Gardner (1) (1922–1990)

What a wasted life. This books starts off well enough as Ava describes her childhood and family, but as soon as she gets her start in Hollywood, the book made a steady decline for me. I don't think Ava had a firm grasp on how she presented herself or who she truly was. She repetitively states that she was shy and did NOT have a drinking problem, and yet every story she shares portrays her as an abrasive loudmouth drunk. I find it funny that she was so paranoid about the men in her life cheating when she herself had no problem sleeping with married men. I guess what goes around, comes around. And she states that she desperately wanted children, and then procedes to abort 2 babies, back to back. She never did have any children.

I actually did enjoy the personalized writing style, but the stories (except a few), were really, really boring. Ava gives a summary of all the films she starred in (boring) and then describes how she mouthed off, drank, and antagonized the people around her. Then she starts talking about husband number (fill in the blank) and how they drank, mouthed off, and fought. Rinse and repeat. To clarify, I am not blaming her entirely for her failed marriages; from her description alone, most everyone in Hollywood were not faithful and got a new spouse every year. I think for her part, she could have been less impulsive with matrimonial decisions.

There were moments she was gracious toward someone, but for the most part, the book was one big repeat of drunken behavior (or rude and sober behavior), poor decisions, and colorful language. I honestly don't think many people could be around her long, because it does say that she did not have any female friends, and she didn't have any lasting relationships with men. She died alone with her dog and housekeeper. Overall, I didn't care for the book and I didn't care for Ava Gardner.… (meer)

This is far, far better than one would expect from the cover and the title. It’s absolutely Nabokovian in how the book is about its own creation; at least half of it concerns the author trying to cajole his subject into talking. And what a subject! Ava Gardner was a self-described broad when such a term was still used and comes across as sharp, foolish, tough, vain, sexy, lonely, insecure, sensible, and someone you’d love to have a drink with. It’s a terrific study of celebrity and reads like the inspiration for Sunset Blvd, although not as depressing.

There’s a laugh-out-loud line one every other page—but don’t lend this to your maiden aunt.… (meer)

Peter Evans was hired to do a biography of Ava Gardner (in the 1990s?), and this is his recap of the notes he was making while having sporadic late-night conversations with her. She eventually nixed the project, and Evans died, but then Ed Victor, who is a book agent or something involved in the initial project, got this published recently.

It's good. She liked sex, and describes her husbands and lovers: Mickey Rooney (horn dog), Artie Shaw (cerebral), Howard Hughes (overly gentle?), Frank Sinatra is just skimmed, and George C. Scott was a brute.

She really liked John Huston but avoided his passes. She wasn't a good actress and she knew it, but also knew that her sex appeal was enough for a Hollywood career.… (meer)