Curiosities

The other day as I was driving home to work the guys at the local ESPN radio station got into a discussion about the identity of the person Carly Simon was singing about in her iconic song You're So Vain.  There was some debate about whether she had ever revealed the person's identity which, for people of a certain age, is mildly interesting. 

Being a naturally curious person myself, I find backstories infinitely intriguing.  Whether it be about people -- Jimmy Stewart lost his virginity to Marlene Dietrich and Walter Cronkite's mother dated Douglas MacArthur's father before marrying Walter's father -- or places -- Spain has two enclaves on the African continent while Cape Horn is named after the city Hoorn in the Netherlands -- or foods -- the ancient Mayans used cocoa not for chocolate but as a spice in main courses, I find these tidbits eternally enthralling.  That no doubt makes me a nerd of the first order, a candidate for Jeopardy and pretty good at Trivial Pursuits, but it's not something that garners much value socially.  It also explains why I need a twelve step program for the books I insist on keeping.

Alfred Hitchcock's movies are more fun for trying to identify him in those scenes in which he would be an extra than the suspense he generated.  The making of movies oftentimes is more intriguing than the finished product.  We all find some interest in who turned down what role and how certain movies got made.  For me, sometimes it's interesting knowing how faithful a movie was to the book that spawned it. 

Some people engage in trying to figure out what happened to Amelia Earhart.  The poem Hypnerotomachia Poliphilii is thought by some to contain clues to hidden treasures buried by Savanarola; this legend provides the plot for the excellent fiction The Rule of Four.

Of course, this type of inquiry can breed conspiracry theorists that contest the validity of the Zapruder film, believe 9/11 was a government-inspired attack and that Elvis is not dead. 

But for me, there's one curiosity whose secrecy not only exceeds all others but whose revelation I will have to await after the events of Revelations are over.  At the end of the movie The Quiet Man, Mary Kate Danaher, played exquisitely by Maureen O'Hara, whispers to Sean Thornton, played awkwardly by John Wayne, something that brings a certain reaction to his face.  Then he chases her across the stones in the creek that runs in front of White O'Morn, his ancestral home, and the panoply of actors' faces begins to play out.

The interesting thing is that no one besides O'Hara and Wayne know what she said to him, and Wayne's dead.  John Ford, the director of the movie, wanted a reaction from Wayne and told O'Hara to say whatever she wanted to him to get that reaction.  O'Hara did as she was told but swore with Wayne that what she whispered would remain their secret.  She repeated this in her recent autobiography.  Not even the great John Ford could get her to reveal what she whispered, and she'll take it to the grave with her.

For whatever reason, I'd love to know what it was she whispered.  She had a very heartily ribald sense of humor, and Wayne, Ford and the rest of the Irish cast shared it with her.  Knowing that, I'm sure what O'Hara whispered would be something to hear.

(c) 2012 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles