As
explained by Sally Bedell Smith, it was a bond complicated by Jack Kennedy’s
needs to lead a nation and squeeze in as much extramarital sex as possible. Jackie’s
job was to support her husband through his travails and ignore his myriad
infidelities as best she could.
Bedell
Smith’s portrait of Jack is pretty much what you expect of a famous Lothario; Jackie’s is more disquieting and sad:
Both
Jack and Jackie insisted on absolute loyalty from their friends, yet JFK’s
profound disloyalty defined their marriage. While she would cut friends who
violated her trust, Jackie feigned ignorance about her husband’s behavior.
Grace
And Power
came out at the right time. Both its principals were long dead, but many who
inhabited their world were still alive and willing to talk to Bedell Smith,
whose previous biography of William Paley, In All His Glory, is one of the best of our time.
Grace
And Power
is not in that league. It is fair-minded, probing, willing to explain Jack’s
dalliances without getting too graphic, and broad enough in its approach to take
in both Cold War face-offs and fancy-dress balls. But it is not a gripping read.
Bedell Smith seems stuck between admiring the figures Jack and Jackie cut in
public and ruing the devil’s bargain they made behind the scenes.
Bedell
Smith notes a tendency by others writing about the Kennedy White House to fall
into buckets, “this competition between the Camelot mythology and the powerful
impulse to tear it down.”
The
middle ground she strives for is shifty, often unconvincing:
It
is a story of people selected by history – some with extraordinary talents,
others blessed with the gift of loyalty – struggling to guide the United States
through perilous times even as they wrestled with their own frailties and the
temptations of power. From the remove of four decades, the Kennedy White House
emerges not as a model of enlightened government nor as a series of dark
conspiracies, but rather as a deeply human place.
Jack
and Jackie married in 1953; Grace And Power begins with the marriage
more than seven years old and the couple awaiting returns on the 1960
presidential elections at the Kennedy compound in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts.
This book is thus not so much about them as husband and wife as President and
First Lady, take it as you will.
Significantly,
the book opens with them physically separated. Jack is with friends and family
watching returns on television; Jackie is by herself outside, pondering the
future. Throughout the book, the couple is united but apart; him selfish, she
aloof.
“She
breathes all the political gases that flow around us, but she never seems to
inhale them,” Bedell Smith quotes her husband saying.
Both
husband and wife tended to compartmentalize friends, which sprang to the fore
when he entered office. He organized a cabinet of divergent personalities and
political views which he drew from liberally; she took on the Herculean task of
remaking the neglected White House interior by consulting a wide range of historians and
interior-design experts whom she carefully confined to different rooms of the building.
Other
Kennedy books focus on what Jack did in the Oval Office, Grace And Power
spotlights Jackie’s work on the rest of the House. “Good taste was in Jackie’s
bloodstream, along with a basic knowledge of historic periods in the decorative
arts,” Bedell Smith writes.
Words
like “chartreuse,” “cerulean,” and “organdy” are employed to describe the
various fashions of the First Lady. We learn a lot about the exquisite meals served,
the finery on display, the couturiers Jackie employed. It is all very soigné,
another word Bedell Smith uses a lot.
It
is perhaps refreshing to read a book on the Kennedys where the most prominent
Lee is not the guy who shot the president, but rather Jackie’s sister, Lee
Radziwell, who accompanies Jackie on a swanky solo trip to Greece and brings
out her sister’s mischievousness. But Jackie on her own doesn’t stir my
interest the way Bedell Smith thinks it should:
Jackie’s
decorating sensibility had evolved to embrace the Empire style of Monroe and
its antecedents in the France of Napoleon and Josephine. The French aesthetic
of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was infused with the
motifs of classical Greece that had long fascinated Jackie. A French flavor
even appeared in the wallpaper she chose for the Diplomatic Reception Room and
second-floor President’s Dining Room covered with American scenes.
Jack,
of course, had his own Monroe to embrace: Marilyn. She was but the most
prominent of an informal harem of lovelies with whom Jack dallied throughout
his presidency.
There
was “Fiddle” and “Faddle,” a pair of conspicuously college-age White House
staffers who went everywhere with JFK; teenaged staffer Mimi Beardsley, who
successfully raised a howl when left off the manifest for a presidential trip;
the older Helen Chavchavadze, who confesses to deep misgivings about their
affair; and Mary Meyer, sister-in-law of the president’s most loyal press
acolyte, Ben Bradlee.
About
another JFK lover, Diana de Vegh, Bedell Smith describes her acceptance of “an
emotionally barren and lopsided arrangement” based on their mutual devotion to
his selfish needs.
“Kennedy
had a need for the company of attractive and wellborn women half his age,”
Bedell Smith observes.
Here
and elsewhere, Jack enjoyed the willing assistance not only of his White House
aides and a willfully ignorant spouse, but a pliant media. JFK amused reporters
by noting he appointed his brother Bobby Attorney General so he could have “a
little legal practice.” Bradlee and other reporters submitted advance copy to Kennedy
and his aides. Kennedy in turn would solicit their input on speeches before he
delivered them.
Bedell
Smith notes: The membrane between politics and journalism was so thin in
those days that such cozy cooperation was not only routine but a signal of
eminence in the newspaper fraternity.
Despite
such support, Kennedy’s time in office was hardly smooth sailing. Crises
abounded, including a failed Cuban invasion at the Bay of Pigs, a standoff with
Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev over West Berlin, and the Cuban Missile Crisis
of 1962. Civil-rights demonstrations became both more common and violent, while
the specter of nuclear oblivion hovered over all like never before.
With
the exception of Cuba, whose proximity to the United States made him bolder,
Kennedy was a cautious leader, Bedell Smith notes, a straddler whose avowed
positions depended on who was listening:
Because
he managed to speak alternately like a hawk and a dove, JFK left plenty of
evidence for partisans on both sides to argue how he would have proceeded in
Vietnam had he lived.
The
record shows he increased the U. S. military presence in South Vietnam by a
factor of eight from what was there when he took office, but loyalists would
long claim President Kennedy planned a full pullout once he had the flexibility
of reelection in 1964.
That
would never happen. Kennedy’s murder in Dallas in November 1963 cut short his
presidency, leaving behind both an incomplete legacy and an enduring myth, what
Jackie christened “Camelot” in a post-assassination interview with journalist
Theodore H. White, one of her husband’s most dutiful scribes.
It
was an ill-chosen assertion, Bedell Smith notes, not only for its suggestion of
royal elitism but in light of the infidelity and disloyalty that ironically characterized
the original Camelot.
Some
Kennedy books claim a rekindling of romance and intimacy between Jack and
Jackie after the stillbirth of son Patrick early in 1963, suggesting a better
marriage lay ahead. Bedell Smith cuts against this view:
Jack
and Jackie may have reached a new level of what she described as
“understanding, respect, and affection,” but they were apart two-thirds of the
time in September, October, and November – forty-two out of sixty-three days.
(The previous year they had been away from each other during the same period
less than half of the time, and in 1961 less than a quarter of the time.)
In
fact, the month before Dallas Jack was taking advantage of Jackie’s absence by spending
a night at the White House with Mary Meyer, most prominent of his mistresses in
Bedell Smith’s telling, whose own murder less than a year later would prompt
much conspiracy theorizing.
The
real conspiracy was that of presenting a happy marriage to the public, which involved
not only husband and wife but a game cast of friends, colleagues, media, and
mistresses. Grace And Power does more by its title alone to explain what
drove Jack and Jackie’s commitment to one another than anything within its
pages.
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