Pick up any of my 10th grade English essays and you’re bound to find at least one use of the word “juxtaposition.” By frequency of use, I left the impression that English authors had nothing better to do than to place two things side-by-side for the purpose of comparison. Use juxtapose in an English essay and expect your teacher to swoon. Use juxtapose in a pick up line for the opposite effect (“Hey baby, why don’t you juxtapose your body and mine?”) Why do I bring up juxtaposition? I wanted to show you bad examples before I introduce you to a good one: Grey Gardens.
Grey Gardens, a 1975 documentary by David and Albert Maysles, shows the after-effects of the riches-to-rags tale of Edith Bouvier Beale and her adult daughter, Edie (Little Edie) Bouvier Beale. Bouvier, as you history buffs may know, is the maiden name of one Jackie Kennedy-Onassis. In fact, Edith and Little Edie are Jackie’s aunt and cousin, respectively.
With that kind of pedigree, there’s little doubt as to the lifestyle these two women are accustomed to: they have all the rich, buttery flavor and flakiness of the most Upper Crust. Indeed, the evidence is all around them, from photos of the glory days–when Little Edie was courted by the likes of Howard Hughes, Rockefellers, and even considered a prime courting candidate for JFK–to paintings of Edith as a young woman, framed in gilded oak.
That was then. Today (being 1975), Edith and Little Edie find themselves destitute, rattling around together in Grey Gardens, their 10,000 square foot mansion in the Hamptons. Edith spends the bulk of the day in bed, covered in turtlenecks tied around her chest. Little Edie, with bald head covered always in a scarf, dances, sings and flirts with the camera. They spend their hours arguing, reminiscing and scraping together meals (Little Edie, at one point in the film, serves Edith a plate of cat food; “Mother’s pate,” she jokes to the camera). These conversations betray regret, a sense of blame, bits of history, but never despair. For two women raised in a life of pampering, they show remarkable backbone, nobility and pride. I expected whining and defeat. Instead, Little Edie turns a piercing gaze to the camera and reminds us all that she is a woman of “staunch character”.
Grey Gardens the home made me feel the juxtaposition of wealth and poverty. It mirrors the Bouviers in many ways. Isolated and abandoned, it houses memories of better days next to stray cats and raccoons. Edith’s gilded portrait now sits faded on the floor, making a handy screen for an impromptu litterbox. The Maysles deftly show passage of time, as a hole in the wall turns slowly into a fissure, then a cavern. Like the Bouviers, Grey Gardens was probably accustomed to an army of caretakers. Once they left, it was only a matter of time before disrepair and disarray set in. The house, in spite of neglect, stands tall among its neighbors in the Hamptons, with a commanding view of the coast and surrounding forest. It, too, is a house of “staunch character”.
Grey Gardens was at some point purchased and restored. Edith and Little Edie have departed it (and this life), but the fascination with these 3 characters is undeniable. Grey Gardens has seen adaptations into books and plays, and soon (from what I hear) a major motion picture. Watch the documentary first to learn, as I did, you just can’t make up people like this.
Tags: Bouviers, Edith Bouvier, Grey Gardens, Little Edie Bouvier, Maysles
