Modern Screen (Dec 1954 - Dec 1955)

ingrid bergman (Continued from page 61) understands his wife's prediliction for order and lets her rule the house. But he usually comes home for lunch. Then his Latin temperament and natural effervescence turn things into a turmoil. Rossellini is a sparkling conversationalist who shouts, gestures, laughs and acts out anecdotes. He speaks a broken English, his wife speaks a broken Italian, and together they are ecstatically happy, no matter what the rumors. T~)oes Ingrid ever regret her runaway romance with Rossellini? She says, "No, I have no regrets. I miss Pia." (Her fourteen-year-old daughter by her former husband. Dr. Peter Lindstrom.) "But one cannot help falling in love, and I would probably do it all over again." As to the censure and condemnation by the American public (she was denounced by many women's clubs and in some communities her films were banned), the actress admits, "Things were not easy. I was kicked and pilloried and damned. I have never been able to talk about this before, but one afternoon while I was still in the nursing home with Robertino, I was visited by a man from Hollywod indirectly representing the motion picture industry. "I can't give you his name — it would serve no purpose — but he told me that he had been sent to Italy to help me solve all my problems. I could regain the respect of the American public, he said, if I would not marry Rossellini, if I would promise never to see him again and would return to my first husband, Dr. Lindstrom. " 'But what will become of my baby?' I asked him. 'Don't worry,' he said. 'We'll put it in a home.' Then he said that when I returned to America I should make a radio broadcast, explaining that I had been a victim of infatuation. I should ask forgiveness. He assured me everything would then be all right. "The more I listened to this Hollywood citizen, the angrier I got, I almost jumped out of bed. I screamed that I loved my child, that I loved Rossellini, and I told him to get out." Two years ago, Signora Rossellini believes, the tide of public opinion began to turn. "People who kicked me began to change. They began to help me up from the floor. Maybe they just felt sorry for me." One person who did not change was Ingrid's daughter Pia, now living with her recently remarried father outside of Pittsburgh. In 1952 when Ingrid petitioned the California Superior Court to allow Pia to visit her in Italy, the golden-haired child, then thirteen, told the Court that she had visited her mother a year before and didn't want to return to Europe a year later. Moreover, in the privacy of Judge Mildred Lillie's chambers, she confided, "I don't love my mother." When asked why, Pia said, "I don't think she cares about me too much. She didn't seem very interested about me when she left. It was only after she left and got married and had children that she suddenly decided she wanted me." Pia also testified that she saw precious little of her mother in Hollywood. Here is a sample of her testimony: court: Pia, before your mother left for Italy, did you spend much time with her? pta: No. court: Did you eat with her? pia: No. court: Did your mother ever eat with you? pia: Not that I can remember. court: When she wasn't working, didn't you see her quite often? pia: No, because then she went to New York. court: Did she ever take you with her? pia: No. Tngrid Bergman feels that given time, Pia, too, will change, that one day she will relent and forgive her mother's transgressions. She writes Pia regularly and hopes her daughter will visit her in Europe next summer. Until then, Ingrid is determined that none of her other children will ever be able to accuse her of not spending much time with them. In Signora Rossellini's new scheme of things, a career must always take a back seat to love and children. END to janet with love (Continued from page 39) when I felt like eating, I ate. Mornings, a big bowl of coffee, mostly milk, with matzos broken up in it. At school, a hot dog which I paid for and the root beer they threw in free. Plus what I scrounged from my friends, like an apple or cooky left over in their tin boxes. Plus a couple of dirty dried apricots. We'd swipe 'em from wagons and stuff 'em in our pockets for emergency rations. Covered with two weeks' lint, they tasted fine. But potatoes were the mainstay, and the way my mother cooked pancakes they were also a pleasure. I never felt cheated, I never got sick, I never had so much as a cold when I was a kid. I enjoyed my food. I didn't know any better than to thrive on it. C o all of a sudden I'm in Hollywood, and ^ what happens? A conspiracy. At Universal they break for lunch on the hour. Okay, I can handle Universal. If I'm not hungry on the hour, I take a walk. If I'm hungry at three, I send out for hamburgers. But the plot thickens, I'm invited to parties where they serve full-course meals. With tidbits yet. Full-course meals destroy my appetite. Tidbits I don't appreciate. Food is secondary with me. To stay alive, I eat. But the oolala bit with the delicate palate, this 1 1 don't dig. And on top of insulting me with filet mignon, there's something else. Filet mignon becomes a symbol. They're forcing their tastes on me, moving in on my idiosyncrasies, tampering with my likes and dislikes. It's an affront. Nobody's going to rob me of the things I grew up with, and hooray for my side. Of course I could've stayed home with a sardine in the first place. But who wants to be rearonable? That's how things stand when I take a bride, God bless her, who's also conditioned. Only the other way. Three balanced meals a day. Right out of the book. For Janet's metabolism, it's great. She likes proteins. I like cherry pie and PepsiCola. She likes to eat by the clock. I like to eat by a very whimsical stomach. This could drive most women ga-ga, but not Janet. Sure, she wants me to eat healthy, but she won't press. Hands off is her slogan, she respects my sacred identity. Till a crisis blows up. My dad gets sick. The job separates me from my brand new wife. I do a Finntwin. From 150 I drop to 130. I catch my first cold. Aha, I'm falling apart. When Janet sees me, she flips. She starts with the food. To build me up. A wife's natural anxiety. Who could object? Me. I say, "Stop with the food!" She says, "You can't sustain life on coffee and a doughnut for breakfast." I come out with the hokey lines. "Man does not live by bread alone." Shrinks Hemorrhoids New Way Without Surgery Science Finds Healing Substance That Relieves Pain — Shrinks Hemorrhoids For the first time science has found a new healing substance with the astonishing ability to shrink hemorrhoids and to stop bleeding — without surgery. In case after case, pain was relieved promptly. 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