By Tony Curtis, Peter Golenbock
"All my lifestyles I had one dream and that was once to be within the movies."
He was once the Golden Boy of the Golden Age. A prince of the silver display. speeding and debonair, Tony Curtis arrived at the scene in a blaze of brilliant lighting fixtures and celluloid. His beauty, soft appeal, and ordinary expertise earned him status, girls, and adulation--Elvis copied his glance and the Beatles positioned him on their Sgt. Pepper album disguise. however the Hollywood lifetime of his desires introduced either invincible highs and debilitating lows. Now, in his desirable, no-holds-barred autobiography, Tony Curtis stocks the affliction and ecstasy of a personal existence within the public eye.
No uncomplicated tell-all, American Prince chronicles Hollywood in the course of its heyday. Curtis revisits his significant physique of work--including the unforgettable classics Houdini, Spartacus, and a few love it Hot--and regales readers with tales of his institutions with Frank Sinatra, Laurence Olivier, director Billy Wilder, and picture heavyweight Lew Wasserman, in addition to paramours Natalie wooden and Marilyn Monroe, between others.
As forthright as he's spell binding, Tony Curtis deals intimate glimpses into his succession of failed marriages (and the one who has endured), his damaging drug habit, and his ardour as a painter. Written with humor and charm, American Prince is a testomony to the ability of dwelling the lifetime of one's desires.
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Additional info for American Prince: A Memoir
I do not excuse myself when a friend blames me. *Blanche of Bourbon, tragedy by M. Bordes, which, to the great regret of his friends, he perseveres in refusing to let be staged. 14 Autobiographical Poems Vile pride is not my soul’s vice, Sometimes I have received solid advice Given with kindness, followed with Zeal: I am unacquainted with those dodges whose empty ruses Transform our weaknesses into so many virtues, And never under false colors could my mind Conceal its errors from your gazes; But might I be allowed by a legitimate eVort To preserve at least some rights to your esteem, Weigh my feelings, my reasons, and my choice And decide my fate for the last time.
In a word the attractions of an opulent life That to the wishes of the Foreigner oVers its wealth All the pleasures of taste, the charm of the ﬁne arts, To my enchanted eyes shone from all directions. It is not, nevertheless, that my soul gone astray Gave way to an exaggerated softness. Innocence is the good most dear to my heart, Debauchery and excess are objects of horror: Guilty pleasures are the torments of the soul They are purchased too dearly if they are worthy of blame. Doubtless, in order to be a real good, pleasure Must make man happy and not criminal: But it is no less true that of the course of our life Heaven does not forbid us to soften the misery.
Every poet is a liar and the profession excuses him; He knows how to make, by pompous words, a rich fop Into a new Maecenas, a pillar of the State. But I, who am little acquainted with the customs of France, I, proud republican who wounds arrogance, I disdain the support of the impertinent rich man, If it is necessary to beg while crawling before him, And know how to give applause only to you, to true merit: Mad33 vanity disgusts and irritates me. The rich man despises me; and in spite of his pride, We often see each other in just about the same way.