A 16 year old young woman went to work to help her struggling family. At first she worked in a hat shop where her singing to herself would distract people from her work. She loved to make hats and have herself photographed in them. It was as though she was in love with glamor and sought a bit for herself. Then one day she went to work at another shop; a tie shop. There she met an Olympic champion rower. He was a strong handsome man who would be her love for 7 years.
Later, before a documentary camera crew he would speak of her with great affection and declare that “I loved her more than any other woman.” She was a woman that would become well known. You probably know her name now, but I suspect that what you know of her is only the mask she wore. The mask that was created in her search for some bit of glamor or beauty in the world, and the mask that would eventually kill her – that amazing little girl named Maria.
The Amazing Little Girl
I fell in love with her more than 30 years after she died, and for many years after I knew almost nothing about her. I certainly didn’t know the story of the hat shop, and her long lost love.
Maria became a well known singer in her own country. Her first single, and many after, were huge hits. She loved to sing, and she became know and loved for her smile and her music. She once claimed that all she needed to be happy was a bowl of soup and the chance to sing. I suspect it is what she was born to do. She was an artist who had both literally and figuratively found her artistic voice.
It was said that she loved language, and would often play with words. She would even make up words and would very funny and not afraid to laugh at herself.
The Mask
For at least two decades after I fell in love with her I knew none of these details of her life. All I knew of her was the mask. All I knew was a colorful mask that hid the truth. That hid the woman who wore it.
Maria was famous in her own country – so much so that she became know in others. Eventually a man came from America and offered her a job on Broadway. She had become famous in the country of Brazil for singing Samba – a music of the ghettos. And she became famous for wearing the native dress of many women from the poorer parts of her country. Glamorized, this outfit became part of the mask because Maria do Carmo Miranda da Cunha had some time ago adopted a new name for herself, and it became part of the persona that made her famous: Carmen Miranda.
Carmina Popularia
For most Americans, and many around the world, the only Carmen Miranda we know is the colorful persona – the smiling face, the huge eyes and sly, crooked mouth that seemed to mangle the English language as often as it got word right. Carmen was a success on Broadway, in night clubs and eventually in film. At one point in her life she was the highest payed woman in the United States. Her style, of often wearing turbans when not in stage costume, became the style.
She made a number of successful Hollywood musicals. She stared with some of the biggest names of her time; Cesar Romero, Don Amichi, Alice Faye and others. At first she only sang in her native tongue of Portuguese, but later she would sing in English. Even later she would become more and more commercial and sing songs that were entirely American, though often with a Brazilian twist.
Back Home, The Mask Was Slipping
But in Brazil she was taking a lot of heat for become to “Americanized”. When she returned to her native country to perform she was met with silence and disdain. It was said that she cried her eyes out, and did one more show. Then she left for America where she would stay for a very long time. She even did a Brazilian song called “Disseram que Voltei Americanizada” – “They Say I’ve Come Back Americanized.”
Death by Television
Carmen always worked hard. In her Broadway days she would run from the theater where she was performing to do another show at a nearby nightclub to make more money. No matter what else happened in her career she always seemed to be able to make people happy by performing live. But the masked was locked on at some point. She was unable to step out from behind the outrageous costumes with fruit-covered hats and be herself, and eventually she became something of a joke. At some point her ability to laugh at herself turned into parody, and the girl… the woman behind the mask was lost.
During the filming of a sort of comeback film “Copacabana” with Groucho Marx, she met and married a man many considered to be wrong for her. He arranged for her to work even harder at a time when she probably needed to slow down. She wanted to be a mother, but after becoming pregnant and losing the baby she became depressed. Some say her husband was abusive verbally if not physically. She used amphetamines – “diet pills” they were called then – to push herself into a punishing schedual.
Eventually while taping a television show she fell during a dance number. She fell to one knee and ran out of breath. The star of the show covered for her during the taping, and she recovered to make a smiling exit from 50′s television and the world. She died sometime that night of a heart attack at the age of 46. The episode was on tape, and eventually shown after her death to a saddened public.
A Return to her Homeland
Despite her critics in her beloved country of Brazil, many still loved her. And her funeral was a national tragedy. Crowds flocked to get on look at their “Amazing Little Girl” – as she was called early in her career – one final time. Footage of huge crowds of mourners crying and singer her songs, weeping over he casket, and declaring their love for her still haunt those who adored her. It is especially tragic that during her unfortunate marriage she’d broken down and come to Brazil in a terrible emotional state. She stayed locked in a hotel, afraid to even go outside. But eventually she was able to emerge again more herself. But rather than stay, she returned to the United States and went back to working. Many in Brazil believe to this day that if she had stayed she might have lived a longer and happier life. But her husband had arranged many performances for her, and she was never afraid to work hard.
The Woman We Never Saw
Celebrity is a peculiar thing. In the film “The Mind of Alan Moore” celebrity is compared to a sort of illness or odd infection. The difference between artistic and celebrity success can often make the difference between life or death. In Carmen’s case, I think that may have been true. She was a hostage of her time. Latina women were lumped together and over-simplified. They were fiery and hot tempered. They were sexy, but not a woman you would marry. They could hardly speak English, and often mangled it to comic effect. That was just some of the stereotypes, and Carmen got locked into all of them.
What was the woman behind that mask like? What was the woman who had a lavish home in Hollywood that she would often share with any Brazilian visitor or tourist without a moment’s hesitation? Who was the young woman who fell in love with a music and a culture that some saw as “poor”, “dirty” or “common”? Who was that young woman who worked in the hat shop or the tie shop? What did she sound like when she spoke to her friends? What lovely music did her voice make as she laughed and played with language like a happy child?
Alas, all I’ve ever been able to find are traces of the character she became in the media. All I’ve been able to find are bits and pieces of a broken mask that mark the passage of an artist and a woman. She no doubt had many happy moment in her life, and as the book “Brazilian Bombshell” by Martha Gil-Montero points out, she did have an amazing life and career. Those looking to know even more should see the film “Bananas is my Business” - An amazing documentary who’d title title is a reference she often made to her being locked into the image of “Carmen Miranda” with her hat full of bananas.
The Burden of The Mask
Any mask we wear can swallow us whole. It can destroy lives and souls, and that is doubly true of masks that become famous. In the search for something – love, acceptance, security or artistic expression – Maria do Carmo Miranda da Cunha lost something of herself, and we lost a wonderful opportunity to see what that was. When Carmen died, killed slowly by her personal demons, we lost something that might have made the world a brighter place. We lost an opportunity to see the real Carmen.
It is some comfort that the mask does not obscure all. That some wonderful energy and hints of it’s power can be seen even when obscured somewhat. But in the calculation between what has been lost and what has been gained I believe that the “Loss” side of the scale bears the heavier burden by far. In a era of recording equipment that can show us men and women long dead and bring us their voices, it is sad that so little of the real woman is left, and so much of the mask remains.
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