Ivana Lowell and Harvey Weinstein

Improbably enough, a third post about a book that hardly anyone has read.

Since I finished reading the book, "revelations" about the conduct of film mogul Harvey Weinstein have become public. The initial full account was in the New York Times and, as is usual, other victims of harassment have begun to come forward. The general opinion is that everybody in the film biz knew about this, but no-one said anything. Except, it turns out, Ivana Lowell in a book, published in 2010, that hardly anyone has read.

She worked for Weinstein in the 1990s (the dates aren't spelled out, but it was after the success of Sex, Lies and Videotape) publishing tie-in books for his films. She describes two incidents of fairly blatant harassment.

First she says that in the office

He would call me into his office under some pretext [...] his office door would be slammed shut and he would playfully chase me around his desk. [...] I was always too fast for him, and I don't think he would have done anything even if he had ever caught me, but it made for an interesting work experience.

Later, she was relaxing in her flat late one evening with her friend Francesca*. Harvey knocked at her door (she presumed he had bribed the doorman to get into the building).

The living room was small, made smaller by the sofa bed. There was nowhere for him to go. He seemed large, and out of place, and didn't seem to know what to do with himself. The only place for him to go was the bedroom, so he went and sat on the bed. Francesca and I both awkwardly edged away.
He lay down on the bed. 'I am so fucking exhausted,' he groaned. 'Which of you girls is going to give me a back massage?'
The scene was comical; Harvey lying spread-eagle, dwarfing the bed like Gulliver pinned down by midgets and Francesca and I laughing nervously, still edging away as far as possible.

She says she and Francesca talked him out of it. He just "for the next hour or so proceeded to complain about this 'schmuck' and that 'fucking moron' [in the movie business]" and eventually left.

Ivana makes light of the incidents but, as in the Francis Bacon anecdote I think true feelings burst through. The phrase "laughing nervously, still edging away as far possible" makes it clear that these "interesting work experiences" were truly frightening. And what if Francesca hadn't happened to be with her that evening?

*Apparently this was Francesca Gonshaw, best known as Maria from 'Allo 'Allo, trivia fans.

Reference: Ivana Lowell, Why not say what happened, publ Bloomsbury, 2010, pages 113-116.

Ivana Lowell and her mother and her fathers

In my last post I looked Ivana Lowell's memoir, Why not say what happened?, and a particularly blatant piece of plagiarism. With minimal changes, Ivana presented a piece that her mother, Caroline Blackwood, had written about Francis Bacon as her own. Now that I've finished the book, I want to consider her possible motivation.

Her book's interest for readers is largely the depiction of the way of life of the very wealthy society she grew up in, and her relationship with her mother. The book's main interest for her, though, is about her relationship with her father. After Caroline's death, Ivana found out that the man she had thought was her father wasn't. There were two possible suspects, and she eventually found that her biological father was (and there's a hint in his name) Ivan Moffatt. She was disappointed that it was him, but angry with her mother for never having told her.

In the second half of the book, covering the period after Caroline's death, Ivana's anger towards Caroline is clearly expressed. It contrasts with the generally rosy emotional mood of the first half. But of course the whole of the book was written in a state of knowledge. Isn't it likely that the bout of plagiarism was an irruption of that anger? The worst assault on a writer is to steal their words.

And is it too much to suggest that there's a link with the notion of authorship? Caroline deceived Ivana about who her author was. What better revenge than to deny Caroline's authorship of something? Unplanned, I'm sure, but a revenge planned rationally would be less reckless, less easy for a man in Catford with too much time on his hands to uncover.

Caroline Blackwood and her daughter

Caroline Blackwood, who lived from 1939 to 1996, was a Guinness heiress, who became known for three main reasons:

1. She eloped away from her privileged background to marry Lucian Freud and was the subject of some of his best paintings
2. She later married Robert Lowell (who died in a taxi while returning to his ex-wife, a Freud portrait of Caroline in his hands)
3. She wrote a number of books, one of which was nominated for the Booker prize

I'm going to read some of her books but currently I'm reading the memoir of one of her daughters, Ivana Lowell, Why not say what happened? It's a good read, a fascinating story of three generations of Guinness heiresses, all with amounts of money that meant they never had to worry about the price of anything, and all with a dangerous attraction to alcohol.

Caroline's mother, Maureen, once got so pissed that she passed out in front of the Queen Mother, fracturing her tiara. Caroline died of cancer at the age of 64 after a short lifetime of booze (whenever she opened a bottle of vodka, she would throw away the cap). In Ivana's book she comes across as a very loving, if utterly chaotic mother.  Robert Lowell, a famously difficult man, appears sane and sympathetic in this setting. Third gen Ivana recounts in detail her own experience of rehab.

I'm going to get hold of some of Caroline's writing. She wrote a few novels, and some non-fiction, including a study of foxhunting, which earned the disapproval of her then-neighbours in Leicestershire, and an apparently very sympathetic study of the women's camp at Greenham Common.

In the meantime I've found some of her writing online. In particular this extended anecdote about an early meeting with Francis Bacon, written after his death in 1992. As I read it, more and more of it sounded familiar and it turns out Ivana has lifted it, almost word for word and planted it in her own book. Here's how the story starts.

Caroline in 1992

Ivana in 2010

I was then eighteen, and I was invited to a formal London ball given by Lady Rothermere, who was later to become Mrs. Ian Fleming. Princess Margaret was among the guests and could immediately be seen on the parquet floor wearing a crinoline and being worshiped by her adoring set who were known at the time as “the Smarties.” She was revered and considered glamorous because she was the one “Royal” who was accessible. Princess Margaret smoked, and she drank, and she flirted. She went to nightclubs and she loved show business and popular music.

She was then eighteen, and was invited to a formal London ball given by Lady Rothermere, who was to become Mrs. Ian Fleming. Princess Margaret was among the guests, and she immediately spotted her on the parquet floor wearing a crinoline. My mother said Princess Margaret was being worshipped by her adoring set, who were known at the time as "the smarties". She was revered and considered glamourous because she was the one "Royal" who was accessible. Princess Margaret smoked and she drank and she flirted. She went to nightclubs, and she loved show business and dancing to popular music.

The whole piece by Caroline is retold over three pages of Ivana's memoir. She has shamelessly plagiarised her own mother and got away with it too. I've read a few reviews of the book and no-one mentions this.

Does it matter? Or is just another example of inherited opportunity? With all poor little rich girl stories there's a suspicion that the advantages of family connection – social capital – are a bigger contributor to success than any talent. Ivana obviously has some talent as a writer, but the talent on display here is undoubtedly her mother's. And inheritance is not theft, perhaps.


References:
The New York Review of Books, SEPTEMBER 24, 1992 • VOLUME 39, NUMBER 15
Ivana Lowell, Why not say what happened? London, 2010, pp 71-74