Oh, The Glamourous Life!

Dear Constant Reader,

What a snowy Wednesday! How about a book review? Today’s book is continuing in the vein of Carnival Strippers, but it’s set in Boston!

“…A Kind of Life.”: Conversations in the Combat Zone by Roswell Angier (1976).

The Combat Zone* was the section of Boston where the adult businesses moved after Scollay Square was demolished. Washington Street between Boylston and Kneeland Streets was the home of peepshows, adult movie theatres, bookstores and venues such as the Teddy Bare Lounge, The Pilgrim Theatre, the Naked I with girls, girls, girls. Some of our Legends remember performing in those clubs and theatres.

These days the Combat Zone is pretty cleaned up, although there are a few hold-outs (particularly on LaGrange Street, once notorious for the streetwalkers).

Like Susan Meiselas, Angier took photos in the 1970’s of performers and others associated with The Combat Zone and accompanies the photos with quotes. His photos are taken on-stage, back-stage and on the street, all neatly captioned with the subject’s name (if known), location, and year. He also does an in-depth study of two performers: Melanie and Coty Lee. He seems to have a lot of affection for all these performers.

For me the real selling point of the book, beside that it captures of Boston burlesque history, is a portrait of Tiffany Carter opposite one of Hedy Jo Star.

Some of the text is the author’s own and it’s opinionated and a bit crude. I was struck by a bit in his introduction that specifically mentions burlesque, when he’s comparing “strippers” and “showgirls”:

The differences between the two are subtle and possibly specious. But to women who are in the business, the distinction is an important one. In part, it has to do with age. Strippers are often older women in whose memories burlesque is still very much alive, or younger women who have picked up the extravagant style of the old queens. They are real cockteasers. Showgirls, who tend to be younger, are less melodramatic. They get just as naked, but they are less genital. Their sexuality is polymorphous and familiar, a kind of aura. You can tell showgirls from strippers, sometimes by their stage names: Jeri, Deirdre, Melanie, Coty Lee; and on the other hand, Devil’s Delight, Satan’s Angel, Blaze Starr, Tempest Storm, Honeysuckle Devine. The effects they are calculated for are miles apart.

An interesting perspective, which is contradicted by some of the performer’s quotes. The 70’s seem to be a time of transition for our industry and I’m interested to learn more.

* One of my tag lines is “The Ivy League mind in the Combat Zone body”, but only particular audiences get the reference these days.

Dear Constant Reader,

It’s been quite a while since I had a burlesque book to review. I was quite excited to see this first edition for sale at The Expo.

My Face for the World to See by Liz Renay (1971).

The first and only time I saw Liz Renay was at the Miss Exotic World weekend in 2006 in Las Vegas. She was carried onto stage on a palanquin born by scantily clad men, in a spectacle worthy of Cleopatra (orchestrated by Grant Philipo, I later learned). In her sultry voice, she said “I’m Liz Renay, rhymes with play”. She made a bit of an impression, let us say.
(Photo by Chris Blakeley)

In this memoir Liz writes of her origins as an artistic child in a fundamentalist family in rural Arizona. She longed for more and attempted to escape with teenaged marriages and motherhood. With her third marriage she moved to New York and became a high-fashion model. When that marriage ended disastrously, she needed a job that would let her take care of her kids during the day. She chose to become an exotic dancer. It was then that she met a number of upstanding Italian-American gentlemen and the seed of trouble was planted.

After winning a Marilyn Monroe look-alike contest, Liz decided to become a movie star and moved to Hollywood. Her New York “friend”, Cappy, made sure she connected with his buddy, mobster Mickey Cohen. Everything was going splendidly at first. Liz had many movie and tv offers and her art was selling well in New York.

Then the federal government swept in and forced her to testify about her relationship with Mickey Cohen. The scandal ruined her Hollywood career and made it impossible for her to work in any industry. She was repeatedly harassed by the authorities and her morals came under question. Eventually she found herself in prison.

According to Liz, she was gorgeous, smart, tough, desirable, and talented. If anything was her fault, it was that she was too trusting and kind-hearted. Everyone was out to get her for her friendship with and loyalty to Cohen. But, you know what? Her story is such an easy and entertaining read, that you’ll forgive more than a little self-aggrandizement.

As to actual burlesque content, it’s a bit thin. The first chapter describes a night in the 52nd St. clip-joint where she became a mob darling. Later she writes of her beginnings in burlesque, including the costume she cobbled together from lingerie & ribbons and the sheet music she gave the band without ever having heard the song. Despite that, what a surprise, she was a hit. The book doesn’t mention her later career, post-prison, or performing with her daughter, Brenda in a mother/daughter strip act.

To close the story, here’s a photo of Jo Weldon at this year’s Burlesque Hall of Fame weekend, wearing a cape from Liz Renay’s estate. (photo by Derek Jackson)

Dear Constant Reader,

I recently received an advance reviewer’s copy of a new book, available in June. Since it’s about the circus, which is one of those topics sort of related to burlesque, I thought I would tell you a little about it.

Queen of the Air: A True Story of Love and Tragedy at the Circus by Dean Jensen (2013).

Born in 1891, Leopoldina Alitza Pelikan was destined to be a circus performer. Her grandparents and father ran small traveling circuses in Eastern Europe and her mother was a star trapeze artist. She began performing on the trapeze as a child and soon rose to stardom, as “Leitzel, Queen of the Air”, performing throughout Europe and for the Ringling Brothers’ Barnum & Bailey circus in America.

She performed on the trapeze, but her claim to fame was the Roman rings. Her specialty was one-armed planges: using a single ring for support, she would rock her body back and forth until she could fling her legs over her head, making a complete revolution around her right arm. Despite dislocating her shoulder with every flip she would execute a hundred or more at every show.

Alfredo Codona was also born into a circus family, in Mexico. He was also a trapeze artist, but as a flyer. When his sister, Victoria, a tight- and slackrope walker, was noticed and hired by The Ringling Brothers in 1909, Alfredo came along as a bonus. At 16 Alfredo was stunningly handsome, but he only had eyes for the diminutive Leitzel. She only let him court her clandestinely for the season and they went their separate ways.

Possibly to win over Leitzel, Alfredo became obsessed with perfecting The Triple, 3 somersaults in a row. This move, known as the Salto Mortale, had killed many trapeze flyers, but he refused to give up. It took him ten years to finally conquer it and it brought him stardom.

In 1928 the two great aerialists married. As the book promises, theirs was a turbulent story of love and tragedy, which I will not spoil.

The book alternates between the lives of the two performers, as they were only together late in their careers, which creates a bit of a disjointed narrative. Although the author based the book on interviews with people who knew the two personally, many details are so vivid that I suspect a fair amount of fictionalization. I found the book as a whole to be a little weak. However, I’m still interested in reading the author’s previous work, The Lives and Loves of Daisy and Violet Hilton: A True Story of Conjoined Twins.

There are only four photographs in the ARC, although, according to the publishing information, there will be 27 black & white photos in the final book. I can’t complain too much about the lack of illustration as the book cost me nothing and I got to read it months before the masses.

So, where’s the burlesque? Allow me to tell you.

It involves Leitzel’s mother, who has a pretty tragic story of her own. Nellie Pelikan was an equestrienne and acrobat in her family’s circus from the time she was five years old. Her family fell on hard times and she was “apprenticed” (really, sold) to Willie Dosta, a Scottish strongman with a single-wagon circus. He employed the twelve-year-old Nellie for one season before returning her to her family heavily pregnant.

Just weeks after she gave birth to Leitzel, Dosta came back to take Nellie for another tour and he trained her to be a trapeze artist. As La Belle Nellie, the aerialist, she was a hit, bringing fame and fortune to the tiny circus. After her third tour, playing ever bigger and better venues, Dosta returned her to her family to deliver a son. Shortly thereafter, she was freed from this abuse, but I’ll let you read about that yourself.

After years of stardom under the big top, La Belle Nellie reinvented herself as “Zoe, the Aerial Venus”. She entered with a lace parasol which was then suspended from the ceiling. Hanging from the handle by her teeth, she disrobed completely (or maybe to fleshings). With this act, she played all the best circus theatres in Europe and even had an extended engagement at Coney Island. I’m hoping her picture might be among the ones missing from my copy.

I’m recommending this for aerialists and circus buffs who really should know the story of these two great aerial performers. If you’re just in this for the burlesque, don’t sweat it.

Dear Constant Reader,

Literary Rogues: A Scandalous History of Wayward Authors by Andrew Shaffer (2013).

I was introduced to the works of Andrew Shaffer when Naked Girls Reading did a nationwide event tied to the launch of his book Great Philosophers Who Failed at Love. The Boston chapter was fortunate enough to have an appearance by the author himself. We were surprised and delighted to learn of a thank you in the acknowledgements of his new book and decided it was only right to include a selection in our next salon (little did we know at the time that it would be the last).

Literary Rogues follows a similar format to Great Philosophers: short, entertaining profiles of bad boys (and girls) of literature, focusing on said bad behavior. The book proceeds chronologically from the Marquis de Sade through The Romantics, The Decadents, The Lost Generation, The Beat Generation, and on to Gen X. There’s lots of drugs, drinking, sexual shenanigans, mental illness, and general misbehaving from some of the greatest writers in western literature. Many of the stories end in suicide — intentional or gradual.

The book is well researched, with a section of endnotes to prove it, and a selected bibliography for further reading. Lest the dread word “research” frighten you off, the writing is light and conversational and the stories both funny and horrifying. Shaffer makes no excuses for his subjects’ behavior, but nor does he moralize. His commentary is frequently irreverent, but he never belittles the talents of the writer in question.

I think of this as a good nightstand book, a chapter or two a night is a nice treat before bed. And you’ll probably want to look up the works of some of these talented, troubled writers.

Dear Constant Reader,

Here’s your daily reminder to nominate The Boston Babydolls for Best Burlesque. You can vote once per day per email/IP address. Thank you!

striptease by Libby Jones (1967).

This slim volume is a gem. Subtitled “The one ‘How To’ book no woman should be without”, it covers all the basics a budding stripper could want in a mere 80 pages and boasts of “step-by-step, fully illustrated instructions by one of the most famous practitioners of the art, Libby Jones”. Published in 1967, it has the aesthetic of the era. There’s just something about the typeface of the headers that says “groovy” to me.

Ms. Jones starts off with, as promised, step-by-step instructions for stripping out of specific garments (gloves, dress, chemise, stockings, garter belt, bra, and panties). Each garment section is accompanied by line drawings showing how to remove it. Best of all is that each one is a convenient 2-page spread, for easy reference. Remember what I mentioned about the aesthetic? The illustration for “the dress” shows a maxi-dress with an empire waist with a floral slip (“the chemise”) worn underneath.

After you’ve learned to take it off, come “The Actions”: tassel twirling (the instant gratification method), breast bounce (a way of faking pectoral control a la Carrie Finnel or Donna Denise), shimmy (quivering the bum), bump (which “isn’t really one of life’s classiest gestures”), grind, floorwork, lunge, walks, and props (a pillow and earrings). All are again illustrated and each one is only on one or two pages. There are a couple of different floorwork poses and three walks, from coy to aggressive. I was quite thrilled to see some underutilized props. Now I’m inspired to try an earring remove — it could be quite seductive.

There’s even a section for making your own g-string and pasties. Remember, in 1967 there was no Etsy. ; ) The techniques are remarkably similar to the ones many people use today — if it ain’t broke…

The remaining 20-odd pages are on “beauty”. There are toning exercises for all parts of the body, like “firming and developing the bust”, “slimming the hips and buttocks”, and “reducing thick ankles”. Lastly, there are make up tips, such as conturing the face, making up eyes and lips, and “beauty hints”. Much of this section makes me think of the Virginia Slim’s motto, because we have come a long way.

I like it, part because it is a good how-to (the stripping part), and part because it is a window into its time period.

That’s the last burlesque book on my shelf! Do you have any suggestions for what I should review next?