Aug. 4th, 2022 11:48 am
Speaking of Harpo, by Susan Fleming Marx
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lisa_goldsteinI fell in love with Harpo Marx when I was a kid, and there are still times when I think What Would Harpo Do to get another perspective on things. So a new book about Harpo, by his wife Susan Fleming Marx, is very welcome, especially after a decades-long drought in which little has been written about him.
Speaking of Harpo talks about Susan Marx’s early life, her Broadway and movie career (she didn’t much like being on stage but it was easy for her to get parts -- probably every actor who reads that will be filled with instant envy), how she met Harpo and what their courtship was like, their life together and with their four kids, and, of course, what she did during the long years after Harpo died. (She was twenty years younger than him and died in 2002.) She comes across much as Harpo described her in his autobiography Harpo Speaks, private, level-headed, funny, devoted to her family, enjoying Harpo’s escapades or at least tolerant of them.
This is pretty interesting, but the best part is that there are new Harpo stories. A Harpo story is unmistakable. Of course it’s funny, but it also, for one instant, throws the world out of kilter. “Wait, what?” you say, but he’s already moved on.
“In New York the phone in the hotel room started ringing the moment we checked in, and it seemed to never stop. There was a young woman desperately trying to get an interview with Harpo. He gracefully declined but she kept calling, and after not answering the phone for a couple of days he picked it up and she was still trying. So, he agreed to do the interview… As they were speaking the phone started ringing. Harpo ignored it. The woman asked, ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Harpo replied, ‘No. It’s probably you.’”
In fact there’s a lot here that’s new. For one thing, it turns out that Harpo was a hypochondriac. Biographies and his own book emphasize how untroubled he was, how he rarely worried about anything, so the fact that he was preoccupied with his health comes as a surprise. It seems to make him a more rounded person — no one could be as easygoing as he portrayed himself.
For another, Susan’s account of their courtship contradicts Harpo’s in a lot of ways. In Harpo Speaks it was Susan who did the pursuing, and Harpo who wanted to stay a carefree bachelor. Susan shows that both of them dated other people at first, and that Harpo seemed jealous of some of the men she went out with. Harpo says that they got married because, after a years-long courtship, Susan asked about moving into his new house. Susan says he went on one knee and said, “Miss Fleming, will you marry me?” to which she replied, “Mr. Marx, this is so sudden.” Was she upset by his portrayal? She doesn’t say so, but she makes sure to give her own side of the story.
Susan may remember the facts differently, but the sense she gives of Harpo is a lot like the person we meet in Harpo Speaks. He’s kind, doesn’t play Hollywood games (he and Susan disguised themselves when they got married, to keep it from the gossip columnists), knows how to enjoy himself and how to bring out the best in other people. He adds a little more wonder to the world.
And so, here’s a final Harpo story: When they moved to Palm Springs he’d placed his harp near a glass sliding door, shaded by an awning. “The first morning as Harpo tuned up, a big yellow cat slid down the awning and laid there with his head hanging over the edge, listening blissfully…” They moved to a new house, and a few days later Harpo started to practice. “Look who’s at the window,” he called out. “Harpo’s audience had followed him the two miles across the desert,” Susan says. Well, of course.
——
I wouldn’t start here if you want to read about Harpo, but with his own book, Harpo Speaks. I think it’s a masterpiece — a strong claim, I realize, especially since he never finished second grade. He comes across as a kind of trickster, someone who can tilt the world toward absurdity, who sees nearly every situation as an excuse for mayhem — and tricksters, as we know, rarely write their own autobiographies. He and his brother Chico try to sell money to a policeman. He drops a pocketful of fake jewels in Tiffany’s. He leaves a theater where he’s performing still wearing a hat gaudy with gold and braid, and as he’s walking with a friend he somehow manages to switch it for the friend’s hat, and the friend makes it all the way home without noticing. What Would Harpo Do? He’d probably stand on his head.
Speaking of Harpo talks about Susan Marx’s early life, her Broadway and movie career (she didn’t much like being on stage but it was easy for her to get parts -- probably every actor who reads that will be filled with instant envy), how she met Harpo and what their courtship was like, their life together and with their four kids, and, of course, what she did during the long years after Harpo died. (She was twenty years younger than him and died in 2002.) She comes across much as Harpo described her in his autobiography Harpo Speaks, private, level-headed, funny, devoted to her family, enjoying Harpo’s escapades or at least tolerant of them.
This is pretty interesting, but the best part is that there are new Harpo stories. A Harpo story is unmistakable. Of course it’s funny, but it also, for one instant, throws the world out of kilter. “Wait, what?” you say, but he’s already moved on.
“In New York the phone in the hotel room started ringing the moment we checked in, and it seemed to never stop. There was a young woman desperately trying to get an interview with Harpo. He gracefully declined but she kept calling, and after not answering the phone for a couple of days he picked it up and she was still trying. So, he agreed to do the interview… As they were speaking the phone started ringing. Harpo ignored it. The woman asked, ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Harpo replied, ‘No. It’s probably you.’”
In fact there’s a lot here that’s new. For one thing, it turns out that Harpo was a hypochondriac. Biographies and his own book emphasize how untroubled he was, how he rarely worried about anything, so the fact that he was preoccupied with his health comes as a surprise. It seems to make him a more rounded person — no one could be as easygoing as he portrayed himself.
For another, Susan’s account of their courtship contradicts Harpo’s in a lot of ways. In Harpo Speaks it was Susan who did the pursuing, and Harpo who wanted to stay a carefree bachelor. Susan shows that both of them dated other people at first, and that Harpo seemed jealous of some of the men she went out with. Harpo says that they got married because, after a years-long courtship, Susan asked about moving into his new house. Susan says he went on one knee and said, “Miss Fleming, will you marry me?” to which she replied, “Mr. Marx, this is so sudden.” Was she upset by his portrayal? She doesn’t say so, but she makes sure to give her own side of the story.
Susan may remember the facts differently, but the sense she gives of Harpo is a lot like the person we meet in Harpo Speaks. He’s kind, doesn’t play Hollywood games (he and Susan disguised themselves when they got married, to keep it from the gossip columnists), knows how to enjoy himself and how to bring out the best in other people. He adds a little more wonder to the world.
And so, here’s a final Harpo story: When they moved to Palm Springs he’d placed his harp near a glass sliding door, shaded by an awning. “The first morning as Harpo tuned up, a big yellow cat slid down the awning and laid there with his head hanging over the edge, listening blissfully…” They moved to a new house, and a few days later Harpo started to practice. “Look who’s at the window,” he called out. “Harpo’s audience had followed him the two miles across the desert,” Susan says. Well, of course.
——
I wouldn’t start here if you want to read about Harpo, but with his own book, Harpo Speaks. I think it’s a masterpiece — a strong claim, I realize, especially since he never finished second grade. He comes across as a kind of trickster, someone who can tilt the world toward absurdity, who sees nearly every situation as an excuse for mayhem — and tricksters, as we know, rarely write their own autobiographies. He and his brother Chico try to sell money to a policeman. He drops a pocketful of fake jewels in Tiffany’s. He leaves a theater where he’s performing still wearing a hat gaudy with gold and braid, and as he’s walking with a friend he somehow manages to switch it for the friend’s hat, and the friend makes it all the way home without noticing. What Would Harpo Do? He’d probably stand on his head.
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