The Shocking Miss Pilgrim: A Writer in Early Hollywood

9 Meeting Ernest Maas

Chapter 9 MEETING ERNEST MAAS THE THOUGHT OF SPENDING the rest of my career writing flimsy fare like The First Night-to say nothing of contending with studio politics and the insanity of Hollywood life-had become unbearable . Perhaps. I reflected. my true vocation lay in writing novels and short stories and not in the movie business at all. The more Iconsidered this possibility. the more excited I became. If I turned out short stories of quality. I thought. magazines would surely buy them. If I had something to say in a novel. how could it fail to get published? I made up my mind to pack up and quit Hollywood. go to San Francisco. get myself a secretarial job. and write in my spare time ... nights ... weekends. If Ifound out Iwas not a Hemingway or a Sinclair Lewis. I could always sell real estate or insurance. Or get married! Before I turned out the light and slumbered on this momentous decision. Ipicked up a copy of Varietylying on the bed table and scanned it. Why I should have given a hoot about anything in Variety now that I had made up my mind to wean myself from the Hollywood scene. God only knows. It was an addiction. I suppose. to this rag of information . this Holy Bible to all who worked in films. In Variety; I read that myoid boss. John C. Brownell. now story editor of Republic International Film. was in town. I reached him the next morning at the studios on Gower Street. 'Tm quitting the picture business. John." I informed him dramatically. "I have some plans and need your advice. Could we take lunch?" 117 118 The Shocking Miss Pilgrim Musso-Frank's restaurant was crowded. as usual. at lunch hour. It was popular with Hollywood entertainment people. Opened in 1919 by two young Italians, now gone to their reward, it had a reputation for first-class cuisine with a French emphasis, quiet elegance, low-key lighting , and rich mahogany accents (especially in its commodious private eating booths). Its waiters were tiptop veterans. To wait on table at Musso-Frank's was a coveted diploma in the restaurant fraternity. Busboys were willing to work for a pittance in the hope of rising one day to the status of waiter at this fine eatery. After a short wait, John and I were shown to a center booth by the maitre d'. Iordered a mushroom omelette souffle, one of myMusso's favorites. Musso's provided a generous assortment of hors d'oeuvresheavy on olives, radishes, scallions, celery, and carrot sticks-and a basket of crisp, sourdough French bread and bread sticks. John listened with interest to my plan to move to the Bay City. He showed sympathy and understanding but was definitely opposed to the idea, feeling strongly that I had achieved more success than I realized and that I should hang on and not throw in the sponge just yet. He made me promise to reconsider my decision seriously. While we talked, I savored my mushroom omelette souffle and became increasingly aware of the occupants of the adjoining booth or, more correctly, conscious of one occupant who was facing me-a young man in his middle thirties. There was something unusual. distinguished, about him and, at the same time, something familiar. He could have passed as a twin of Irving Thalberg-the same olive complexion; the same sensitive, inquisitive eyes and shy smile. Short in stature like Thalberg, he too projected a tall, impressive personality. It was evident that this young man was watching our booth with special interest. In my feminine conceit , I assumed that his interest was in me. And I was glad that I had chosen my favorite outfit for this occasion: a chalk-white, elegantly tailored sharkskin dress with a full-length black velvet coat, perky black velvet bonnet, high-heeled patent pumps, and patent pocketbook. It was a chic outfit that poor Antoinette had made for me. As it turned out, I was not the attraction that brought him over to our table. "John," he said warmly, "what are you doing here? It's great to see you again." "You remember Ernest Maas," John said to me. "You always complained about the way he barged into my office without waiting to Meeting Ernest Maas 119 be announced." Of course! I now remembered the arrogant young man who had no respect...