They'll Never Make a Movie Starring Me, by Alice Bach: An Appreciation by Miss Edith, 1930s Movie Star Manque

There was a fair amount of silliness in the media this past weekend because it would have been Katharine Hepburn’s 100th birthday on May 12. All well and good; I’m a huge fan of some of Hepburn’s flicks, but I don’t idolize her. Frankly, I’m wondering if the media will make a big deal about the fact that this June 4th will be the 100th anniversary of Rosalind Russell’s birthday. I think this is REALLY important, not only because she and Miss Edith share a birthday, but because Miss Russell’s roles in His Girl Friday and Auntie Mame have flavored and influenced the lives of countless cranky, well-hatted women the world over. Hildy Johnson in His Girl Friday is the fastest talker ever, the sharpest dame to ever set foot in an office. And Mame Dennis is also a fast talker, and more manipulative (I used the word as a compliment here), with even better clothes and hats than Hildy. These women are my heroines.
Miss Edith intends to have a cocktail party this year in honor of Rosalind Russell, and when she does, you will be invited.

But in the meantime: Katharine Hepburn. Well, ok: The Philadelphia Story; Bringing Up Baby; Desk Set. I think of these as Hepburn’s “Bathrobe Movies”; there’s always a big scene involving bathrobes. There are other classics, of course, but these three are my favorites. And I will raise a drink in the direction of Old Saybrook, Connecticut, whenever I have occasion to watch any of these flicks: thank you, Miss Hepburn.

Since I’ve been thinking lately about young adult fiction (see all that nonsense about V.C. Andrews I’ve posted recently) and Katharine Hepburn, last night when I was scanning the shelves desperately looking for something to read, I was delighted when my eye fell on a young adult novel I hadn’t looked at in perhaps ten years. I’d kept it, mind you, all these years (I think I acquired my copy around 1980), but I don’t think about it all that often. Still, I re-read it last night while Notarius and I ate our evening meal. Notarius watched the baseball game and I read They’ll Never Make a Movie Starring Me by Alice Bach.
I don’t know how many times I read this book when I was young. My copy of the book is quite worn. I noted with some surprise that it was the only book by Bach I’d ever read – why did I not seek out her other titles? Quite unlike me, to be honest – but had to admit that what I lacked in breadth I made up for in depth when it came to this book.
They’ll Never Make a Movie Starring Me is a short, craftily crafted novel about a young Manhattanite who goes away to boarding school. Think of it as an earlier form of Curtis Sittenfeld’s Prep. It’s more that Prep is a variant of Bach’s book; Sittenfeld’s heroine, Lee, is not anything like Bach’s lead. Bach's heroine, named Alice, is going to Brearley – for those of you who don’t know, this is a posh New York City private school -- who suddenly realizes she doesn’t want to live under her parents’ watchful gazes anymore. She convinces them, in August, to send her off to boarding school. She is thrust into a room at Southeby Hall, which is supposed to be in Massachusetts, I think, and is thrilled to go. Alice’s heroine, her idol, is Katharine Hepburn, and Alice believes fully that going to boarding school will be a completely Hepburn experience that will then allow her to go to Bryn Mawr college and become even more Hepburn (Bryn Mawr, of course, being Hepburn’s alma mater).
Of course, boarding school isn’t exactly what Alice had expected – the kids are not really up to her standards: she’s looking for sharp, clever conversation and gets a roommate who plays golf a little too seriously and is generally lacking a sense of humor. Alice eventually makes friends, and develops a crush on one senior girl, Wendy, who proves to be not much of a friend. The novel is essentially a compare-and-contrast study between the girls in Alice’s circle in Manhattan, who are (one might say) far too sophisticated for their own good (Miss Edith would not make that call, herself), and her circle at Southeby, which is considerably more prim, less honorable in word and deed, and – perhaps worst of all – most boring. (Ok, you can sort of see where Miss Edith stands on certain matters. So I’m not objective: sue me.)
I always liked how Alice Bach wrote this book; I liked the voice of the narrator, young Alice. I liked that she would admit to liking her family even when they were driving her batshit. I liked that she admitted her good and bad qualities. Alice, like so many young narrators in books like this, is trying to come of age, but recognizes that she’s not yet prepared for it. She’s too awed by a neighbor down the hall, who is only a few years older than Alice but already has an extremely active social life, for us to forget that Alice is just a kid in most ways. But she’s a smart kid. She’s likeable.
This book isn’t going to appeal to everyone. There are a lot of people who would look at this and just find it too unrealistic for them; not everyone can relate to obviously well-off Manhattan kids complaining about traveling to boarding school with their horses. They’ll Never Make a Movie Starring Me does touch oh-so-lightly on class conflicts, and matters of money, but it’s not dwelled on at all (this is the biggest difference between this book and Prep, which really about nothing but class discomfort. These standards are given in Alice’s world: You go away to school. You date a guy who goes to an Ivy League school (no other colleges seem to exist: there’s only the Ivy League and the Seven Sisters). End of story. So, all right, the book isn’t for everyone. But I do think it’s a great book of its type. I was sorry to learn that it’s out of print, but not surprised; I was, however, surprised and charmed to learn that the author, Alice Bach, is now a professor of religious studies at Case Western Reserve. Ms. Bach: thank you for your efforts, then and now. Miss Edith would doff her hat to you jauntily, but she might spill her gimlet…