and I went to a little theatre above Montmartre to see a German movie called LâAtlantide , with a wonderful actress in it called Brigitte Helm, who played the Queen of the Lost Continent. It was the middle of July. It was hot . The only seats in the theatre were in the third balcony, under the rafters, where it was even hotter . There were four seats in a row, and we took two.
We sat there, the movie startedâ¦and I became totally intoxicated by it. I was mesmerized! I have no idea if I actually saw the movie I thought I was seeing, but I was absorbed by these three lost Foreign Legion soldiers with their camels, their woesâ¦theyâre so tired , theyâre delirious with dehydrationâ¦. And then you see the fata morgana. That means if you desire a woman, you see a woman, if you desire water, you see waterâeverything you dream, you see. But you never reach it. Itâs all an illusion.
Thenâ¦a sign of an oasis! Thereâs a palmâ¦and more palms. Then theyâre in the oasis, where they see Brigitte Helm, this divine -looking woman seated on a throne âsurrounded by cheetahs ! The cheetahs bask in the sun. She fixes her eyes on the soldiers. One of them approaches her. She gives him a glass of champagne and he drinks it. Then she takes the glass from him, breaks it, cuts his throat with itâ¦.
And et cetera.
This goes on and on. I hadnât moved an inch. At some point I moved my handâ¦to hereâ¦where it stayed for the rest of the movie. I was spellbound because the mood was so sustained . I was simply sucked in, seduced by this thing of the desert, seduced by the Queen of the Lost Continent, the wickedest woman who ever livedâ¦and her cheetahs! The essence of movie-ism.
Then⦠the lights went on, and I felt a slight movement under my hand. I looked downâand it was a cheetah ! And beside the cheetah was Josephine Baker !
âOh,â I said, âyouâve brought your cheetah to see the cheetahs!â
âYes,â she said, âthatâs exactly what I did.â
She was alone with the cheetah on a lead. She was so beautifully dressed. She was wearing a marvelous little short black skirt anda little Vionnet shirtâno sleeves, no back, no front, just crossed bars on the bias. Dont forget how hot it was, and of course the great thing was to get out of this theatre we were in. The cheetah, naturally, took the lead, and Josephine, with those long black legs, was dragged down three flights of stairs as fast as she could go, and thatâs fast .
Out in the street there was an enormous white-and-silver Rolls-Royce waiting for her. The driver opened the door; she let go of the lead; the cheetah whooped , took one leap into the back of the Rolls, with Josephine right behind; the door closedâ¦and they were off!
Ah! What a gesture! Iâve never seen anything like it. It was speed at its best, and style. Style was a great thing in those days.
CHAPTER SEVEN
If I may say so, at least to you, I sometimes think thereâs something wrong with white people. Weâre in the wrong place at the wrong time. Blacks are almost the only people I can stand to look at nowadays.
I love to see the black schoolchildren who come into the Museum, marching in a neat little row, wearing immaculate cardigan sweaters their mothers have knitted for them.
The young black girls I see in New York today are the most attractive girlsâfrom top to toe! Their hands are the most beautiful things on earthâ they always have been. But these girlsâ legs are so extraordinary! They used to stand with their behinds out. You know the walkâtheyâd sort of sink into their stomachs and then stick out their behinds. But these girls today havenât got a trace of it. They stand tall , and when they stride⦠theyâre like a race of gazelles! Theyâre strong. Theyâve got the strength .
The world will go to lines of
We sat there, the movie startedâ¦and I became totally intoxicated by it. I was mesmerized! I have no idea if I actually saw the movie I thought I was seeing, but I was absorbed by these three lost Foreign Legion soldiers with their camels, their woesâ¦theyâre so tired , theyâre delirious with dehydrationâ¦. And then you see the fata morgana. That means if you desire a woman, you see a woman, if you desire water, you see waterâeverything you dream, you see. But you never reach it. Itâs all an illusion.
Thenâ¦a sign of an oasis! Thereâs a palmâ¦and more palms. Then theyâre in the oasis, where they see Brigitte Helm, this divine -looking woman seated on a throne âsurrounded by cheetahs ! The cheetahs bask in the sun. She fixes her eyes on the soldiers. One of them approaches her. She gives him a glass of champagne and he drinks it. Then she takes the glass from him, breaks it, cuts his throat with itâ¦.
And et cetera.
This goes on and on. I hadnât moved an inch. At some point I moved my handâ¦to hereâ¦where it stayed for the rest of the movie. I was spellbound because the mood was so sustained . I was simply sucked in, seduced by this thing of the desert, seduced by the Queen of the Lost Continent, the wickedest woman who ever livedâ¦and her cheetahs! The essence of movie-ism.
Then⦠the lights went on, and I felt a slight movement under my hand. I looked downâand it was a cheetah ! And beside the cheetah was Josephine Baker !
âOh,â I said, âyouâve brought your cheetah to see the cheetahs!â
âYes,â she said, âthatâs exactly what I did.â
She was alone with the cheetah on a lead. She was so beautifully dressed. She was wearing a marvelous little short black skirt anda little Vionnet shirtâno sleeves, no back, no front, just crossed bars on the bias. Dont forget how hot it was, and of course the great thing was to get out of this theatre we were in. The cheetah, naturally, took the lead, and Josephine, with those long black legs, was dragged down three flights of stairs as fast as she could go, and thatâs fast .
Out in the street there was an enormous white-and-silver Rolls-Royce waiting for her. The driver opened the door; she let go of the lead; the cheetah whooped , took one leap into the back of the Rolls, with Josephine right behind; the door closedâ¦and they were off!
Ah! What a gesture! Iâve never seen anything like it. It was speed at its best, and style. Style was a great thing in those days.
CHAPTER SEVEN
If I may say so, at least to you, I sometimes think thereâs something wrong with white people. Weâre in the wrong place at the wrong time. Blacks are almost the only people I can stand to look at nowadays.
I love to see the black schoolchildren who come into the Museum, marching in a neat little row, wearing immaculate cardigan sweaters their mothers have knitted for them.
The young black girls I see in New York today are the most attractive girlsâfrom top to toe! Their hands are the most beautiful things on earthâ they always have been. But these girlsâ legs are so extraordinary! They used to stand with their behinds out. You know the walkâtheyâd sort of sink into their stomachs and then stick out their behinds. But these girls today havenât got a trace of it. They stand tall , and when they stride⦠theyâre like a race of gazelles! Theyâre strong. Theyâve got the strength .
The world will go to lines of
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