In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Enfin . . . une Revue (which means, appropriately enough, Finally . . . a Revue) was a hodgepodge in two very long acts, divided into seven tableaux . Vernon’s barbershop sketch, performed in act , did not go over well at all with French audiences (of course, his new partner may not have had the comic timing and skills of a Lew Fields). It was a “complete and abysmal failure,” recalled Irene. In act 2, tableau 4, came the Castles’ big moment , a dance that Irene always felt was their very best, based on Hans Christian Andersen’s tragic tale of doomed love, “The Brave Tin Soldier.” With Vernon in a silver lamé uniform and Irene in white taffeta, they enacted the story: “The tin soldier falls in love with the paper doll and pursues her madly around the stage, his legs held stiff. . . . Finally, frustrated, he throws himself into the fire and melts down,squiggly-like,enveloped in chiffon flames. And the heartbroken doll frantically runs back to the oversized fireplace and jumps in after him.” If the audience was impressed with the Castles’ take on Andersen (and there is no indication that viewers were as impressed with it as Irene herself was), it exploded with glee over their act 2, tableau 6, appearance as M. and Mme. Flirt. Backed by the eight Flirteuses, the Castles finally “found themselves,” breaking out in a wildly energetic and very American dance routine to the tune of “Alexander’s Ragtime Band.”The dance itself was a hastily improvised combination of the Texas Tommy and the grizzly bear, both of which were new to Paris. Although it was based loosely on the tabletop performance Blossom Seeley had given in The Hen-Pecks, Irene recalled the dance as “even rougher, full of so many acrobatic variations that I was in the air much more often than I was on the ground.”The Parisians went mad for it, and Jacques Charles happily kept them on, the failed barbershop routine forgotten and forgiven. They were somewhat surprised to find themselves a hit as dancers; “in the days before we were married, though we went to many of the same ENFIN . . . UNE REVUE CHAPTER EIGHT  parties, I am sure that we never danced together,” said Irene. “Necessity made us dancers.” Vernon and Irene stayed in Enfin . . . une Revue for two weeks—long enough to pay off their advance salaries to Charles, and long enough for their ecstatic press clippings to reach New York (carefully sent on by Irene to be disseminated through the Broadway community, then as now a very small world). They handed in their notice: as Irene said, “the stench backstage was just too strong for me.” Still fairly broke, if a little more famous, Vernon, Irene, and Walter Ash spent the early spring of 92 wandering around in the improving Paris weather, nonchalantly looking for work. The Castles’ good press had reached Louis Barraya (affectionately known as “Papa Louis”), proprietor of the Café de Paris—not to be confused with the popular club of the same name in London. The Café de Paris had, as Irene nostalgically recalled, “an air of true graciousness . . . an elegant gaiety. . . . It was not a place, it was a social convention.” The Castles wisely asked if they could “case the joint”before attempting to dance there. All dance floors are different,and even beginners like the Castles knew that the size and shape of the room would affect their routines. Papa Louis arranged for them to sit at a small table (and eat a free dinner) as they listened to the orchestra and gave the dance floor a professional once-over. By now, Irene was down to her last good gown, which had also been her wedding dress a year earlier—simple white crepe de chine, slim-lined, topped with one of her precious lace Dutch caps. Irene wore no jewelry, most of it having been pawned.She remembered 92 as a particularly overthe -top,vulgar season for Parisian fashions; most of the café customers were decked out in their biggest jewels, immense feather-laden Merry Widow hats, tightly “straight-lined” corseted dresses dripping with lace, bows, and flowers. Irene, on the other hand, was the very picture of the chic, understated “American Girl” look, later to be associated with Grace Kelly and Jacqueline Kennedy: spare, understated hair and makeup, little or no jewelry (and that very good and very small), clothing of the best cut...

Share