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The NORTHERN STAR
By Alice L. Tildesley
"It amazes me," says Greta Garbo, "that these American girls can manage so many things at one time — pictures, society, love. Me — little Sweden girl — can do one thing on-ly. Some day I shall leave pictures and give all to this love!"
Russell Ball mmaa
Sweden girl
YOU have not seen Greta Garbo unless you have seen her in a storm. True daughter of the sea-kings — tall, whitebrowed, and most divinely fair — her face lifted to the sweep of the rain, with a sort of exultation, water dripping from her yellow curls, lashes impearled, a strange light in her blue, blue eyes.
But you may not walk with her then. She walks in a storm "a-lone."
She Loves the Sea
c he lives by the ocean, and spends all her time away "^ from the studio beside it.
"I love the sea, yes. It understands me, I think. It is like the Old World, it is not happy, it is always yearning for something that it cannot have. . . . Here you are all so gay — you laugh — you talk, always very high — you run about — you live in lights and music, this jazz music — you are never still
"Me — poor little come from a leetle con-tree where all things do not make for happiness. You — you would go mad if you live there. No jazz — no party — always quiet, yes? What would you do?
"American girls, they are wonderful ! They can do everything. They ride, they dance, they play the games, they drive the car, they makt their pictures, they run to parties, and — they fall in love. So-o, is not that am-azing?
"Me — poor little Sweden girl — can do on-ly one thing at a time. Now, for my new picture I must learn to dance the tango and to rkle the horse." She looked down at her trim riding suit, ruefully. She had just come in from riding the horse, and her strong, slim hands turned her black tricorne hat, slowly.
"That horse ! He is so beeg. They bring him to me, and I look at him and he look at me. 'You are so beeg, I will never get on you,' I tell him. They put me on him and he stands still. 'How do you make him go?' I ask. American girls, you see, they do not have to ask. They know. Always they know.
"A Strange Con-tree"
"It is a ver' strange con-tree to me. But nize. You are all so happy. Everybody smiles and makes a joyful noise. I hear mothers say to their children: 'Are you happy, dear?' That is what is to you important, yes. Happiness. In the Old World, we do not think of happiness at all."
A moody young thing, Greta Garbo, with the true temperament of the artist and no idea that the present fad in Hollywood is to be "just folks."
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