Early (June) Havoc (Autobiography)

Dance for Your Supper:
June Havoc and Gypsy Rose Lee were among the most famous pairs of sisters ever in show business. They were survivors of the great depression, triumphant during World War II. June, best-known as an actress, achieved Broadway stardom in the musical comedy version (by Richard Rogers and Lorenz Hart) of John O'Hara's "Pal Joey." She worked in New York, London, Hollywood, television. Gypsy, a burlesque star, also wrote the best selling "G-String Murders." Their mother Rose, was immortalized in Broadway's "Gypsy,"a play based on Gypsy's memoirs, with book by Arthur Laurents, music by Jule Styne, and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim. Mama Rose was surely a strong candidate for scariest stage mother ever: she taught her girls that "the mail must go through and the show must go on." At one point, she put Baby June's makeup on, kissed her, pushed her on stage and said, "You're my trouper. Nobody could guess by looking at you now that your temperature is 103." June had chicken pox. In "Early Havoc" June tells us about the beginnings of her career as a two-year old vaudeville toe dancer: "...although I did nothing but sit around and eat up the profits for the first two years of my life, I have been working ever since." She made her first Hollywood movie at the age of three, and was a vaudeville star, Baby June, by the age of five. She continued to criss-cross the country as Dainty Baby June, carrying her own act, supporting her family, until nearly the age of fourteen. She received basically no education, just a nodding acquaintanceship with the Gideon Bibles in various hotel rooms. As she aged out into a gangly teenager, it became obvious to her that, aside from the fact that there was a depression on, and vaudeville was dying, she could no longer continue to tour as "Dainty Baby June." She just had had no real dance training, and wasn't a good enough dancer to wow audiences: not if she wasn't a dancing infant phenomenon any more. A theater owner, Mr. Rothafel, thought she had dancing talent, and could be taught to sing acceptably: he offered to see she would get training in those skills if she were put in his hands for three years. But Mama Rose had a tantrum. The act might no longer be doing well, and June might be willing, but it was not going to happen. Instead, not yet fourteen, still substantially uneducated, June eloped with one of the boy dancers in her troupe. Mama set the cops on them, but they did make good on their escape. They attempted to float a new act-- hubby was a competent dancer-- but there was still a depression on, and vaudeville was still dying. And the kids hadn't much to offer. Neither the marriage nor the proposed act succeeded. In June's absence, however, her beautiful younger sister Louise had taken up the slack, becoming a huge teenaged burlesque star. Mama Rose was on Easy Street, and seemed to have lost interest in the 14-year old June. So June, uneducated, penniless, and on her own took up, literally, dancing for her supper. She became a marathon dancer. It was a depression phenomenon, of course: bizarre and brutal, encompassing grueling obstacles, -- grinds, treadmills, sprints, dead stops, back-to-backs, dungeons. I know virtually nothing about this subject, aside from what little I remember from Jane Fonda's movie on it: "They Shoot Horses, Don't They?" Therefore, I found the subject of marathon dancing of some interest, though I must say it accounts for more than 75% of this book,and I didn't find it nearly that interesting. I also wasn't thrilled by Havoc's organization of the book, completely dominated by a dance marathon, with flashbacks to earlier events, but maybe that's just me. I did wonder about one thing: the dancers apparently called their really strong tough opponents, those likely to win, "horses." Does that have anything to do with the title of Jane's movie? Who can remember. Texas Guinan and Helen Forrest, celebrated in their day, each drunk as a skunk, separately, came by to see bits of June's first marathon. Surprisingly, June managed to last about 3,000 hours, and came in second. Her winnings, after management's version of expenses: $50. But we knew life wasn't fair, didn't we? Well, June took her $50 back to Mama Rose, and was hustled out the door of that apartment on Easy Street: Gypsy was being interviewed. June was told to come back sometime. Now, June, out of her meager marathon earnings, had been sending Mama Rose money to keep up the payments on the old car that was all that remained of her failed marriage. At least, the girl had thought, when she was done with the marathon, she'd have a car in which to attempt to tour again. But something had apparently happened to her money, or the car, and it wasn't there anymore. No sir. This reader would have liked some pictures, but I guess they'd just never been taken. However, June writes well, and smoothly; she might have had some help on this. As she dreams about the future, she writes, " I'd hold two union cards. One would be proof that I was a member in good standing of Actors' Equity, for legit actors only. Of course, I'd always keep my membership in N.V.A.-- National Variety Artists. After all, I'd been a member all my life and my N.V.A. card has always been my proudest possession." Well, Mama Rose was a piece of work, but June seems to display no hard feelings in volume one of her autobiography. Can't wait to read volume two.