Why Eve Babitz’s Hollywood Memoir Matters 50 Years Later

In the mid-50s, when Eve Babitz was just 13, she asked her mother, Mae, for a leopardskin rug. “A real one, you know?” her sister Mirandi recalls, chuckling during a video call from Los Angeles. Mae said no but softened the refusal by offering her a leopard print swimsuit instead. There’s even a picture of Eve donning it while reading Elinor Glyn, the British novelist known for her scandalous erotic fiction from the early 20th century. Glyn, although largely forgotten today, popularized the term “it” to describe a quality that magnetically draws others. Nothing could better describe Babitz, who once wrote in her coming-of-age memoir, Eve’s Hollywood, that she didn’t want the conventional life of stability, children, or a college degree.

Published in 1974, Eve’s Hollywood is now celebrating its 50th anniversary. Babitz described it as a “confessional novel,” but that term seems limiting. The book is a hybrid of memoir, fiction, and essay. Mirandi calls it “a collection of stories,” while The New York Review of Books, which republished it in 2015, likens it to “an album.” Babitz was also designing collage album covers for artists like Linda Ronstadt and the Byrds during that period, making the comparison even more fitting.

Babitz takes us on a cerebral joyride through Los Angeles’ dive bars and beaches

In Eve’s Hollywood, Babitz takes readers on a cerebral joyride across Los Angeles, from dive bars and beaches to iconic spots like Sunset Boulevard’s Chateau Marmont and the tiki bar The Luau. Her essay for Esquire in 1991 captures the essence of these scenes, where people flash in and out with varying degrees of brilliance, despair, and gossip. From her childhood in the 50s to Janis Joplin’s death in 1970, Babitz’s Los Angeles is vibrant and ever-changing.

At one point, she quips that in LA, corruption always happens by the pool, introducing a fictionalized character who might very well be inspired by Gram Parsons. Babitz’s sharp wit and unsentimental observations made her a sort of “spy in the land of the privileged,” a role she relished.

This observational style started early. Mirandi recounts how the Babitz household was filled with brilliant people, including composer Igor Stravinsky and his wife Vera. Living just 10 blocks from Hollywood and Vine, Babitz grew up in an artistic environment that gave her a relaxed attitude toward fame and celebrity. “I once saw Cary Grant up close,” she mentions coolly in a 16-word chapter of her book. “He was beautiful. He looked exactly like Cary Grant.”

Erica Spellman-Silverman, Babitz’s longtime agent, praises the “freedom” of her prose. When Eve’s Hollywood was published, it was unlike anything she had ever read: a woman expressing herself without reservation. Babitz’s confidence was evident even as a teenager when she wrote a two-sentence letter to novelist Joseph Heller stating, “Dear Joseph Heller, I am a stacked eighteen-year-old blonde on Sunset Boulevard. I am also a writer. Eve Babitz.”

Spellman-Silverman first met Babitz two years after Eve’s Hollywood’s publication. Babitz initially claimed she didn’t really want to be a writer, but Spellman-Silverman saw talent and persistently encouraged her. This collaboration led to more works like Slow Days, Fast Company and the novel Sex and Rage. Over time, Babitz became synonymous with Los Angeles, capturing its essence in her unique, essayistic manner.

But Babitz’s appeal wasn’t limited to her vivid portrayal of LA. She explored themes of beauty and power, especially for women like her idol Marilyn Monroe. For Babitz, beauty was a form of power that she wanted to understand and dissect. Her writing on adolescence and high school remains unparalleled, documenting those formative years with an unsentimental yet empathetic touch.

Joan Didion, who recognized Babitz’s talent early on, was instrumental in getting her work published. Didion helped Babitz with her first piece in Rolling Stone and supported her first book, even if Babitz later “fired” her. The “Didion seal of approval” was crucial in launching her literary career.

In 2012, Babitz’s biographer Lili Anolik found her living as a recluse, still bearing the scars from a fire accident that had left her with third-degree burns. Despite her physical decline, Babitz’s wit and intellect shone through in conversations over the phone. Her rediscovery as a literary figure is a testament to her enduring appeal. Anolik emphasizes that Babitz’s “time in the sun” was always fleeting, making her recent renaissance both dazzling and hard-won.

Reflecting on Babitz’s life and work, it’s clear her lust for life and unfiltered observations continue to captivate readers. She once wrote, “If you live in LA, to reckon time is a trick since there are no winters. There are just earthquakes, parties, and certain people. And songs.” Fifty years later, it’s this timelessness and vivacity that keeps us returning to Eve Babitz.

Source: Guardian, New York Review of Books