Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1933)

<r? Th ere are 7 Kind s This interview with Carole Lombard reveals tin seven various kinds of love, she has experienced in her own life. Her statements were, made some. time, before her at lion for divorce from William Powell. As a consequence, this article has an unusually interesling angle. It brings up the question, "How can we be sure?" C And Carole thought her marriage with William Powell would last because theirs was a love of give and take, a romance of opposites 50 AROLE says that the most conceited thing anyone can do is to try to define or describe love. Every great one from Solomon down has attempted to do it. But none has succeeded. so, said Carole, in spite of all this failure, she would nevertheless give her version of love. There are, claims Carole, seven kinds of love, not one. And she should know, because she has personally experienced all seven, and love, she says, you can know only from intimate experience. "To begin with, there is Child Love, and let no one say that a child cannot be in love. I mean, in love. No one could tell me differently, because I was in love when I was eight years old. The very Impossible He was eleven, and he was named Ralph Pop. You may gauge the extent of my passion by the fact that at an age when the names of Percival and Ronald and Curtis and so on were romantic names to me, I was able to idealize the name of Pop." Carole was, she explained, as madly in love with what-a-man Pop as ever she has been since with any man! It was a completely adult passion in every one of its manifestations. She wrote him ardent love notes, rather smudgy, but none the less burning and intense. She waited in agonies of alternating hope and fear for the answers that never came. She suffered, then, the torments of unrequited love. She knew sleepless nights and feelings of faintness and the desire for death. She fought tooth and nail, actually and physically fought off other girls who seemed to hover 'round him. She dreamed of the day when she would be Mrs. Pop and they would live together in a cottage by the sea, and there would be lots of babies tumbling about. "I tell you I was in love with Ralph Pop," Carole said, "and even now, after all these years, I can't really laugh at it, or about it. I felt all the pain, all the actual intense emotion, all the hurt pride and baffled hope of a woman for a man. Don't ever laugh at a child in love. Really, don't. It hurts. THEN there is Emotional Love. The love that is nothing but emotion. I suppose it would be called, baldly, physical love, because that is all there is to it. I had that experience, too, when I was in my 'teens. I was so crazy about a boy named Clive that I could think of nothing but making opportunities to be alone with him. I didn't care about anything but being alone with him, because all I wanted from him were his kisses, his love-making. " I didn't want to talk to him. I had nothing to say to him and he had nothing to say to me, nothing I was interested in hearing. We hadn't one taste in common. We didn't think alike. I didn't want to do things with him, go places, or play games, or read books or anything like that. "The whole point was that I loved him, but I did not like him. If the quality of emotion had been subtracted from the little affair, there would have been nothing left. So many girls marry that kind of a love. Their senses fool their brains. It's too bad. because the instant the emotion, the passion dies away, there is nothing left. And two strangers rind themselves living together and, usually, two enem " 1 hen there is the Love Ideal. That is. an ideal built up by yourself, out of your own mind, created l'\ something you have read or dreamed about or imagined. " \ mi build this ideal in your own mind and heart, and then you attach it to the first presentable male who happens to come along. You build your ideal to the proportions of a god, and then attach it to the Innnext door, or some casual caller, or some man you