It Took Two Women To Create Marilyn Monroe
Monroe and photographer Eve Arnold learned a good deal from one another, as is shown in the new edition of Arnold’s book, ‘Marilyn Monroe,’ featuring 100 color and black-and-white photographs of the actress.

‘Marilyn Monroe’
By Eve Arnold
Foreword by Anjelica Huston
Afterword by Michael Arnold
Acc Art Books, 208 Pages
Anjelica Huston marvels at the “confidence and relaxation” Marilyn Monroe “exudes in her collaboration with the photographer,” Eve Arnold, and Arnold’s grandson, Michael, speaks of her empathetic treatment of Monroe. The two women learned a good deal from one another, as Eve Arnold’s fascinating text demonstrates.
This new edition of Arnold’s book, with 100 color and black-and-white photographs — some of which have been recently discovered in the photographer’s archives and others restored — provides a pictorial biography that begins in the early 1950s and extends through work on “The Misfits” at the beginning of a new decade and to nearly the last year of Monroe’s life.
Arnold’s text supports what her photographs palpably present: an actress completely in charge of herself and her art. Arnold states unequivocally that when it came to still photography Monroe was her own director and as a star became her own editor, with the right to “kill” photographs she did not want published.
Arnold makes clear, though, that what did not make it into the public prints was not bad, but only not what Monroe wanted to project. It was impossible, Arnold insists, to catch Monroe off guard: “The idea of a candid shot, the actress unaware, was impossible with her.” At all times, Monroe knew where the camera was in relation to her. She became her own monument: “there was a sculptural quality about her. She was equally photogenic fore and aft, approaching or retreating.”
Arnold reported that an “almost trancelike atmosphere existed” during some of the photographic sessions, yet Monroe remained in charge and had “learned the trick of moving infinitesimally to stay in range, so that the photographer need not refocus but could easily follow movements that were endlessly changing.”
Monroe practiced what might be called calculated spontaneity: “She could think of more ways to get herself psyched up for a picture shoot or an interview than anyone else I ever met. One way was to get out of the taxi two or three city blocks away from her destination, then run. … She would arrive breathless, wind-blown, and manage to give the impression that she had just emerged from a delicious encounter with a lover.”
The longest sequence of photographs is from “The Misfits.” Arnold spent two months on set in the overwhelming heat of the desert that made it all the worse for Monroe, who had rushed there from six hard-working months on her previous film, “Let’s Make Love.”
Arnold was there to see Monroe talking to herself, wondering whether she could summon the energy to complete the film. She did have a breakdown and was hospitalized, but returned to the set resilient. Yet, as Arnold realized in retrospect, she was in need of affection that became difficult to sustain now that she had become estranged from her husband, Arthur Miller.
Reviewing all the photographs Arnold had taken of the filming, she was struck by how many of them involved Monroe hugging not just fellow actors but, for example, sitting in the lap of a dialogue coach. She seemed to seek some alleviation from the emotional drain of moviemaking.
“Editing Session” is one of the most fascinating sections, in which Arnold describes working with Monroe on a magazine layout. For a week they concentrated on a “pile of contact sheets,” with “sharpened red grease pencils, and a jeweler’s loupe for each of us.” Arnold discussed her choices with a “quick and perceptive Monroe,” who would sometimes accept and sometimes argue with the photographer, who would explain what was necessary for an entire sequence to work.
The work would continue for five to six hours, starting at noon. After the project was completed, Arnold showed up with Botticelli prints, recalling that Monroe had “once wanted to look like the Botticelli Venus.” Arnold’s memory of what happened next seems to support Norman Mailer’s comment on Monroe’s death — that she left us in all her doubt.
Arnold watched her look at the Venus “without recognition, lost, uncertain and appealing, but for what it was hard to tell. It occurred to me that she had created her own Venus, but when the fantasy became the reality, it was too much for her to bear.”
Mr. Rollyson is the author of “Marilyn Monroe: A Life of the Actress,” “Marilyn Monroe Day by Day,” and “Female Icons: Marilyn Monroe to Susan Sontag.”