OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, April 17, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 14

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-04-17/ed-1/seq-14/

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men," "A Fool There Was," "The
Clemenceau Case," "Sin" and the
"Devil's Daughter." Pretty nearly
every person in the country has told
what he or she thinks of me and now,
for the first timeri-am given an op
portunity to tell what I think of my
self! Vampiring, such as I do, is the
hardest kind of hard work. I am im
bued with the character and lose my
self in it Complete exhaustion fol
lows my day of work. A year ago
when my name was' displayed on the
billboards for the first time, the
American people did not know
whether it was a new tooth paste,
soap or a malady. Now when they
see it, they invariably say "the hu
man vampire."
It is not pleasant to be so described.
"When I first heard myself referred to
as "the vampire woman," I was
heartbroken. All my ideals were
shattered. I felt I was that against
which every woman's hand is raised.
I was held up as one who delighted in
the lure of destruction and evil
doing.
People asked what manner of
woman I could be. One woman wrote
this description of me:
"Her hair is like the serpent locks
of Dedusa, her eyes have the cruel
cunning of Lucrezia Borgia, till now
held up as the wickedest woman of
the world; her mouth is the mouth of
the sinister, scheming Delilah, and
her hands are those of the blood
bathing Elizabeth Bathory, who
slaughtered young girls that she
might bathe in their warm life blood
and so retain her beauty. Can it be
that Fate has reincarnated in Theda
Bara the souls of these monsters of
mediaeval times?"
Hardly a day passes that the post
man does not bring me letters writ
ten along similar lines. Many of
them attack me most unmercifully.
Some intimate that no woman could
portray, such characters without hav
ing had the actual experience.
Here is a type of letters I received
during the past few months:
"You are a menace to the human
race. Man is a mere toy in your
hands or those of women like you.
Your type inevitably leads to ruin and
destruction. Those glittering eyes of
yours are like those of the serpent,
except that they are more danger
ous." Such letters hurt. It is impossible
to accustom myself to them.
Why do people hate me so?
I try to show the world how at
tractive sin may be, how very beau
tiful, so that one must be always on
the lookout and know evil even in
disguise. I am a moral teacher then,
if many people go to see me and re
ceive my message as I mean to give
it to them. But what is my reward?
I am detested. People seem to forget
that I am only an actress; that an
actress should never show her real
self to an audience, else she ceases to
be an actress.
A woman in New York saw my
photograph in a frame in front of a
theater and deliberately jabbed a hole
through my face with her umbrella.
But why do people hate me so?
While some of my best parts show
me as a soulless creature, I think
they are susceptible to defense and I
believe the "vampire woman" can be
justified as a type. I think there is a
great moral lesson taught in most of
the plays in which I have appeared.
Anyway, in my next article, to be
published tomorrow, I am going to
file a brief in an attempt to show this.
SPANISH LACE ADDS TO ARTISTIC EFFECT
(Designed by Madame Marianne Buzenet, Noted Parisian Fashion Artist)
An artistic evening gown of black satin and Spanish lace, with side
tunics lined with apple green. The richly decorated skirt is made en train

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