The Advocate | January 31-2006
The Lives and Loves of Natalie Barney and Romaine Brooks
by Diana Souhami

Diana Souhami’s lesbian biographies just keep getting better. Another American couple of glamorous Left Bank artists enters the Pantheon in Wild Girls, a read so light, fast and fun that you forget it’s nonfiction with footnotes. And the best part is, you can check your Ph.D. at the door and just enjoy the ride: Wild Girls is the “Moulin Rouge” of belles lettres.

This time the award-winning British biographer trains her monocle on Natalie Barney’s famous 1920s Paris salon that showcased artistic innovators for 40 years. Never taking her focus off Natalie and her tempestuous 55-year relationship with Romaine Brooks, Souhami leads us deep into the gaslit world of our queer great aunts and our great-great gay grandmothers, late Victorian rebels who became the first Moderns and posed for portraits painted by Romaine. You could call them driven and profligate, you could call them celebrity success stories and forgotten talents, addicts anorexics and suicides, nymphomaniacs and eccentrics, power dykes and trophy wives—but you could never call them boring.

Later, in the mid 1950s when this generation of wild girls was beginning to die off, Truman Capote called Romaine’s abandoned studio “the all-time ultimate gallery of famous dykes” and said they formed an international daisy chain of lasting influence on modern culture.

Cincinnati-born Natalie was more than just a legendary seducer with an insatiable appetite for sex with beautiful women. Souhami portrays her as one of the first lifestyle mavens, a Martha Stewart prototype for living life as an art in itself. And although she was incurably attracted to addicts and nut cases, Natalie appears to have had the healing touch. Thank God for the one or two nurturers in Natalie’s life (besides Berthe her loyal cook). There’s the monumental Gertrude Stein who took Natalie on cozy late night dog walks (but wouldn’t sleep with her). And there’s the secure aristocrat Lily de Gramont (who would). Seen through Natalie’s eyes, Souhami gives us more to love about the Proustian Lily. She knew how to hold onto Natalie with a light rein, liked civilized travel and could not abide a domestic entanglement.

By contrast, the remote, severe and gloomy Romaine never really overcame a horrific childhood of abuse by her tormented, mentally-ill relatives. “My dead mother stands between me and life,” she said of her rich and crazy mother, Ella Waterman Goddard. For the rest of her life Romaine was haunted by disturbing memories of Ella, who believed she was paranormal, and of Romaine’s dangerously mentally-ill brother St. Mar—yes, his mother named him St. Mar—whose life ended in suicide. The sole inheritance of a family fortune in metals & mining was not enough to make Romaine feel safe in any one of her multiple houses and studios in France, Italy and on the island of Capri. As a child in Philadelphia, Romaine was once palmed off on the Goddard family’s impoverished Irish laundress Mrs. Hickey as punishment for bad behavior. Ella went abroad soon thereafter on impulse without leaving money or instructions to Mrs. Hickey for Romaine’s care. Months went by. Romaine became a street urchin. Adoption arrangements by a neighbor in Mrs. Hickey’s tenement had already been undertaken before a family member returned to claim Romaine.

She sketched to get a grip on reality. In adulthood she developed into a disciplined ascetic and a successful celebrity painter. Natalie, ever a glittery surface person herself, was attracted to Romaine’s reedy body and her murky depths. As the tragic-comic, bittersweet tale of the mutually unfaithful yet deeply committed love affair unfolds between these two headstrong heiresses—the “irredeemably blonde” social butterfly Natalie and Romaine, the loner and workaholic who refused to set up house with Natalie—Souhami’s eye for detail brings the story up-close and personal. The lovers’ struggle to remain together while nurturing separate identities and managing a complex web of relationships isn’t too far from the main plot line of “The L Word.”

There are small mistakes. Did Natalie and Romaine live together in Fascist Italy for six months during World War II, like it says in the preface, or was it six years? (It was six years.) Sometimes we’re tantalized by villains in the piece who pull strings from above but never come down to earth, like the shadowy power player and lesbian Symbolist poet Baroness van Zuylen, possibly one of the world’s richest (and most jealous) women at the time, being the granddaughter of James de Rothschild who died in 1868 worth more than Bill Gates at his zenith. Or we’re introduced to new “discoveries” like Natalie’s neighbor in Paris on the Rue Jacob, the long-forgotten American expat writer and bisexual society decorator Elizabeth Eyre de Lanux whose papers have only recently been cataloged at the Smithsonian—then we’re disappointed when Souhami (like Natalie) has to drop the side plot.

How on earth did Natalie manage her days with two wives (Lily and Romaine) and countless other women going in and out of her bed? Details, Diana, details! We long for A Day in the Life, but Souhami has to keep the story moving. And why does everybody have a retinue of servants paid for by unearned income from inherited wealth? Souhami only occasionally touches on harsh realities of the opportunity gap between her wealthy leading ladies and their entourage who must work to pay the bills.

But stick to the big picture. This story does keep moving, and it’s a miracle that Souhami can keep it all straight with at least a dozen main characters whose lives all intertwine. She sifts through unpublished manuscripts and more than 500 letters between the lovers for perfect character sketches of Natalie, Romaine and their cast of thousands. Even if you’ve come across this material before, Souhami makes it sound fresh. When the teenage Natalie seduces a woman twice her age aboard a steamship, Souhami sums up drily: “their love lasted from Trondheim to Paris.” Souhami can even make outtakes from secondary sources look like new scenes. Who can forget Oscar Wilde rescuing the six year old Natalie from bullies in a New York hotel lobby in 1882, then soothing her with a fairy tale, one of his unpublished works of genius?

Ultimately the mysterious author trains her monocle on herself. In cryptic sketches from her own life that are paired with each chapter like parallel universes, Souhami’s story runs alongside that of her subjects in search of common ancestry. As for the “meaning” to be found in Natalie’s and Romaine’s gilded love story nearly a century later, Souhami the biographer compares her own unconventional Modern (or Postmodern) Life with those of her subjects and finds more similarities than differences. Leaving aside her own dominating mother and the call girls and petty thieves that have warmed her bed, there is an ex-girlfriend, for instance, a physician that Souhami’s present (unnamed) lover calls St. Gwen. Dr. Gwen’s overscheduled life with one wife, a rescue cat and two daddies for their son sounds very à l’Amazone; so does Souhami’s bittersweet memory of their former, less complicated, life together.

The more things change the more they stay the same, as the French saying goes. Wild girls just want to have fun. Find somebody else to pay the bills whenever possible. And get a little brilliant work done on the side.

Who’s Who in Diana Souhami’s Lesbian Lovers Pantheon

Gertrude and Alice. The lesbian marriage of Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas. Featuring their poodles called Basket and The Lost Generation of F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway.

Setting: Paris France, 1910.

Wayward Radcliffe grad and medical school dropout (Stein) runs off to Paris, spends inheritance on ugly paintings by unknown artists (like Picasso) while writing unpublishable nonsense and failing to turn Hemingway gay, then makes good when she finds true love with a survivor of the San Francisco earthquake (Toklas), who becomes her mustached Girl Friday, soon graduating to wife of 39 years.

Gluck. The story of a lesbian control freak and the women and flowers she tames on canvas.

Setting: London, 1920s.

Boyish artist Hannah Gluckstein, heiress to a catering fortune, refuses to toe the line and conform to the requirements of her controlling Jewish family. Becomes a successful society portraitist and seduces her subjects with the awesome erotic power of her art deco landscapes and flower paintings. Good businesswoman and serial monogamist: moves on when lovers cannot conform to her requirements.

Greta and Cecil. One of the great fag hag classics of all time, this is the narcissistic passion of Greta Garbo and the gay man who won’t take no for an answer. (With an honorary lesbian role for Cecil Beaton.)

Setting: New York, 1940s and 50s.

A social climbing spendthrift, British society photographer Cecil Beaton is too lazy to go into the family firm so he builds his own cottage business around the glamorous celebrity who obsesses him. But behind closed doors and drawn curtains, Garbo disappoints. Having bootstrapped her way to Hollywood stardom through a working class childhood in Sweden, only to lose everything when her Beverly Hills bank fails during the Depression, Greta becomes a prisoner of her own fears and isolation from lesbian love affairs (with Mercedes de Acosta and Cécile de Rothschild) that both attract and repel her—a tragic figure interested only in herself. Greta and Cecil seem made for each other until Cecil blows it by breaking his vow of silence and publishing his dreary diaries. Banished forever for a mere $50,000! Was it worth it?

Mrs. Keppel and Her Daughter. The tragic double biography of the king’s beautiful mistress (Alice Keppel), Edwardian Britain’s queen of the double standard, and the beautiful lesbian daughter whose true love she thwarts.

Setting: London 1918.

Childhood sweethearts-turned-celebrity-debutantes Violet Keppel and Vita Sackville-West fall in love and rebel just like Mrs. Keppel did, only lesbian affairs are not to be tolerated in polite English society. Vita caves in to social pressure, leaves Violet to return to her family and becomes a famous novelist, gardener and seducer. Violet marries out of spite and fritters away her better talent as a writer but never renounces her lifelong passion for Vita. Their love letters are legendary but few of Vita’s survive.

The Trials of Radclyffe Hall. The psychodrama behind the great lesbian courtroom drama surrounding censorship of The Well of Loneliness.

Setting: London and Paris, 1920s.

On the death of her indulgent father, an English country squire, Radclyffe Hall inherits a fortune and leaves foxhunting behind to start calling herself Johnnie and make her way as a writer in London wearing men’s clothing. Soon news of a clandestine love affair with a naval officer’s wife (Una Troubridge) kills Mabel Batten, the older woman Johnnie lives with in sin. In fact Mabel was Una’s aunt! Oops. Guilt ridden but sex-starved, Una divorces her husband causing terrible scandal, taking the dachshunds with her to Johnnie’s and putting her daughter Cubby in boarding school. Una and Johnnie make a domestic partnership pact (1) never to part and (2) forever to search for Mabel’s forgiveness through paranormal channels. Johnnie’s depressing second novel champions gay rights and same-sex marriage. Except for the badly written sex scenes, it is a bit ahead of its time. Johnnie defends herself famously in court when the book is censored. She and Una soldier on for another 25 years.

[The published piece was edited for space. The sidebar never ran in the magazine.]