Marilyn
2001
In this passage from Potato Eaters, Harden (a guard at The Metropolitan) finds a
very attractive woman sitting alone in the Vermeer galleries on Christmas
morning. They talk, exchanging thoughts about Vermeer and the difficulties of
pursuing a creative path. He doesn’t realize the woman is Marilyn Monroe.
“You sound like you might be an artist,” she said softly, almost breathlessly. “Do
you paint?” A radiant smile bathed her face.
Harden tries to explain the difficulties a young artist faces in making meaningful
pictures when surrounded daily by works of such greatness.
“I think I understand what you are saying,” she said. “I know that feeling well.”“You do? Are you an artist, too?”
“I’m not a painter like you and Vermeer but, yes, I think of myself as an artist.” She paused for a moment, recalling a time in her life when her world, like his, seemed so full of hope and promise. “My name is Norma,” she said, extending a milk-white hand to him, “Norma Jean Baker.”