Photoplay (Jan-Sep 1937)

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D HErt PART HE'S the loneliest man in Hollywood. With a pain in his heart equal in its intensity to the pain that continually racks his body, Lionel Barrymore walks his way alone these days. I he one bright shining light of his life has gone out, leaving him quite alone with his almost unendurable agony of body. I he woman he loved, so tenderly, so touchingly, is dead — his wife, Irene Fenwick. The love story, and it was indeed a love story, of Lionel Barrymore and Irene Fenwick is one of the rarest and most beautiful in all I follywood. The few who came in even distant (ontacl with it fell the depth and caught the beauty of some thing spiritually rare for a town called Hollywood. He loved her, this Lionel Barrymore, so much. He gave to her so much. And il was really all he asked just to give to "Renee" comfort, love, kindness. Just to be permitted to give was all the return Lionel Barrymore ever wanted. She had been SO ill. Almost from the very year of their marriage in 1°2.$ when Lionel looked into the gray blue of Irene I'Cnwii 1.' eyes and knew he loved this woman. Married to Doris Rankin, his struggles to become an actor had been long, bitter, and fraught with months, years even, of 48 despair and defeat. Sister Ethel and brother John, with his dashing profile, had caught on from the start. But somehow there seemed no place in the scheme of things for Lionel. Bit parts, small parts and no parts at all had been his lot. And then suddenly he became established. Better roles in| better plays came his way, and happiness loomed ahead for Lionel Barrymore. And then a cruel blow fell. His two baby boys, his and Doris', were suddenly sickened and died. Grief, too horrible to express, drove him away. "Never," he told white faced Ethel and John, subdued for once at the tragic mask of Lionel's face, "shall I act again. I — " He hesitated, groped around bewilderingly, "I can't even think any more. My mind is blank. My memory is gone. Lines, words, scenes would be only blurred interludes. It's over — the stage and all it meant to me." With his wife, he set out for Paris to become a painter. They lived in the most frugal manner for two years, while Lionel gradually lost, in the work he undertook, some of the heartache and grief he felt. It was Ethel who finally persuaded them to return home. Doris Rankin, herself, was an established actress, and so the two once again took up the stage.