Mr. Mailer, fascinated with coining new terms, has taken a liking to the word “factoid,” which appears frequently in his “Novel Biography.” The frequency suggests an overuse, as if he hadn’t created a new word in ages.
The author’s intention to be provocative is clear, aligning with his reputation as a notably irritating writer in America. Although he makes a point, it is not groundbreaking; he suggests that capturing the complexity of Marilyn Monroe’s public and private life in a truthful history is impossible. His goal doesn’t seem to be uncovering deep truths; instead, he repeats dubious facts and analyzes them with a distinctively prurient style, juxtaposing sacred and profane themes to create a dissonant effect.
Mr. Mailer’s approach to writing about Marilyn Monroe is compared to a messy stew, combining other writers’ work with his unrelated musings. These include topics like insanity, Richard Nixon, and various subjects such as narcissism, Method Acting, and “psychohistory,” among others. This hodgepodge dilutes the focus on Monroe herself.
Despite the clutter, Monroe’s poignant story emerges, drawing readers in with a mix of humor, wonder, and sadness, alongside captivating photographs of the iconic star. As a comedic talent, Monroe shone in films like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Some Like It Hot, blending wisdom with the persona of a quintessential dizzy blonde.
Memories of Monroe as a young girl in challenging circumstances evoke both tears and admiration for her resilience. Rising from a difficult childhood, she achieved great success. Her marriage to Joe DiMaggio, after a two-year courtship, was seen as a perfect match, akin to a royal union between sports and entertainment. Yet, the public was unaware of her intellectual pursuits, including an admiration for Arthur Miller, whom she met before marrying DiMaggio. Monroe’s encounter with Miller, characterized by an intimate connection, led to occasional meetings and correspondence. She expressed a desire for a hero, and Miller suggested Abraham Lincoln, recommending Carl Sandburg’s biography, humorously noted by John Berryman as Sandburg’s sole fictional work.
