Tuesday 14 February 2012

Hedy's Folly by Richard Rhodes

From The Week of February 06, 2011


For some, life is a constant struggle between internal aspirations and external expectations, between what we want and what others want us to be. Customarily, these expectations flow from our parents who understandably infuse us with their own biases and beliefs. But for some famous few, they extend out to society as a whole which, seizing upon our talent at a game, a pursuit, a school of thought, compels us to do what they would have us be. No matter how much external pressure is applied to us, we have our own wishes. It does not automatically follow that being good at something means that it must become our life's aim. Sometimes the heart desires a different challenge, a different destiny, one which the world would, for reasons of bias, rather deny us. This is precisely the difficulty Hedy Lamarr faced throughout her long life. And though she never entirely overcame it, she ensured that history will remember her for that which she was most proud.

Born in Vienna to middleclass Jewish parents, Hedy Lamarr lived a long and fascinating life. Possessing a keen mind and a famous beauty, she was a willful adolescent transfixed by the arts. Initially a stage actress, at seventeen, she graduated to work in film at which time she performed her most infamous role as Eva in Ecstasy, a 1933 film made controversial by sexual content which, though tame by modern standards, was salacious for 1930s Europe. Her fame and beauty -- she was once declared to be the most beautiful woman alive -- earned her attention from one of Austria's wealthiest men, but marriage never appeared to suit Ms. Lamarr and she broke the arrangement to emigrate to the United States where, within a few years, she was one of Hollywood's brightest stars.

Never comfortable with being perceived as a beauty, Ms. Lamarr was given a chance to express her more intellectual talents when, with the onset of World War II, she and George Antheil, a film scorer, developed a new technique for frequency hopping which they patented and sent off to the Navy in hopes that it would be used to improve the remote control of American torpedos. The technique, which later became a cornerstone for wireless technology, was ignored by the US Armed Forces and shelved for decades before fresh eyes and opened minds in the 1960s and 70s returned it to academic prominence where, in subsequent years, it became the bedrock for many of the devices we use today.

Hedy's Folly is a slim but powerful biography of a remarkable woman. Though, for fans of Ms. Lamarr, the book contains few revelations, Mr. Rhodes, an award-winning historian, succeeds in interweaving her story with the even lesser known George Antheil to create a portrait of two inventive souls who, troubled by war and yearning for recognition, strove to create an achievement of the mind for which they could be proud. Though denied timely recognition, the extent to which their ideas helped fuel the technological revolution of the last 20 years ensures that their legacy will far outshine any glory Hollywood has the power to bestow.

As much as Mr. Rhodes pleases with his narrative and as welcome as the recognition might have been for both Lamarr and Antheil, the work's strongest virtue is the degree to which it exposes us to the minds of inventors. We live in a cultural age that venerates individuals. From Steve Jobs to Warren Buffett, from Bill Gates to George Soros, we are in awe of and marvel at the accomplishments of once ordinary men and women who shattered the rules of the game of life by shaping the world instead of being shaped by it. Consequently, we've become enamored with their stories and the secrets to their success, hopeful that, if we mine their wisdom long enough, some measure of their brilliance will rub off on us. Perhaps it will. Perhaps we can learn from them. Perhaps not all of their success is due to being in the right place at the right time. But such believers will find little comfort here for Hedy's Folly strongly suggests that inventiveness is a quality with which only some of us are blessed, that it cannot be bestowed like a gift. It is not reducible to an equation. It is the capacity to make intuitive connections that open up previously unconsidered avenues of thought. Sobering to say the least.

Quick and engaging work. Ms. Lamarr deserves to be remembered as a pioneer of our world. this volume certainly helps to make this a reality. (3/5 Stars)

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