The Real Boys

Gleanings.

This has to be one of the more wonderfully surprising discoveries I have made in a book thus far. While reading the autobiography of Rumer Godden, I landed in the chapter where she is approached by her literary agent about making a movie of her novel: The River, which is a loosely autobiographical tale about her and her sister Jon's coming of age in India. There HAD been a movie before - made from her story Black Narcissus. She had been rather disappointed in hindsight by the film and was wary of giving up yet another of her carefully crafted novels to some random screen writer in far away Hollywood. Then her agent said, "But this isn't going to be just any movie. This movie is going to be directed by none other than Jean Renoir." Rumer takes notice then. Jean Renoir, famous in Hollywood for his artsy movies, and having cinematic awards to hang upon his reputation. He wants HER to write the screenplay. He wants HER to come to Hollywood and be his guest while she does so. And he then drops the dream that the movie will be shot on location near her childhood home in India. She is properly impressed and enchanted. She agrees.

At this point, I am saying, Renoir? Renoir? Jean Renoir? Where do I know this name? And lo and behold, it is the same Jean Renoir I love in the collected paintings of Pierre Auguste Renoir! His little boy reading a book. THIS Hollywood director is none other than THAT Jean. I was so utterly delighted.

Pierre Auguste had three boys: Jean, Claude, and Pierre. I know them well in poring over his paintings of them as boys. And I think of them frozen in that time. Almost like they never left home, nor ever hopped off the canvas and became REAL boys. But real they did become. Jean took that artist gene and translated it into movies. Claude became a gifted ceramicist. And Pierre called the stage his home as an actor.

And the very Jean of that painting I love, grew up, married an artsy and fiery little Brazilian woman named Dido (a whole separate story I would love to know) - and eventually found his way to Hollywood where his directorial star began to rise. Who woulda thunk it?

Rumer and Jean were utterly and artistically simpatico when it came to telling the story of The River. The movie was made to Jean's meticulous standards and received rave reviews. Tony and I found it three deep in Prime on Amazon and watched it. Of course dated, but ahead of itself in showcasing the beauty and atmosphere of India and its people. AND the strange, mesmerizing hold it had on staid English people unused to the more sensual expressions of things. Jean was able to catch that atmosphere on film and Rumer loved it.

So, you never know who is going to walk into someone else's life story. I found this one so lovely and surprising. Renoir's sons. Worlds blending. Like paintings at a museum coming suddenly alive and continuing the story on foot, so to speak.

That was my surprise gleaning today. I love when that happens.

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