The concept of an “icon” is something most people attribute to objects of religious veneration, most notably paintings found in Eastern and Russian Orthodox Christian churches.
These icons take many different forms. Most often they are a flat panel or bas relief depicting Jesus, Mary, angels, saints and other important Christian symbols. Often icons are cast in metal, embroidered on cloth or even cast in stone. Icons represent, either symbolically or by analogy, a larger concept. This is easy to see in iconographic representations of religious figures or themes, but the term, icon, has also taken root as a meme in popular culture.
In the realm of popular culture, “iconic” status usually means the thing typifies a class of objects with a specific attribute. We hear particularly beautiful actresses characterized as having “iconic beauty.” Academics who study such things would tell us that this usage is more properly thought of as a “symbol” rather than an “icon” — i.e. “she’s beautiful… like those other starlets of similar visage are beautiful.” They may be spectacular to admire, but they are not singular.
We are reminded this week of an exception.
Fifty years ago this weekend, beloved actress Marilyn Monroe passed away in the bedroom of her Brentwood, CA home at age 36. It is no secret that the circumstances of her death have spawned a half century of speculation, re-analysis and theorizing. Setting aside titillating postulations that her death came at the behest of the Kennedys, the mob or her psychiatrist, we can instead focus the enduring qualities of her image.
It’s not like Marilyn Monroe was the first beautiful woman to have her picture printed or appear in movies. In fact, a long list of exquisite actresses from film’s golden era is quite easy to summon: Rita Hayworth; Betty Grable; Hedy Lamar; Jane Russell; Maureen O’Hara; Elizabeth Taylor… All entrancingly lovely. So too, could we make a list of present day cinema beauties: Jennifer Aniston; Halle Berry; Penelope Cruz; Scarlett Johansson… It’s not that none of these women — past or present — don’t have “it.” Rather, it’s that they don’t have “IT.”
Just a quick trip through any celebrity magazine, website or television roundup and you’ll see a cavalcade of women doing “their turn on Marilyn.” Every few years, some young starlet does a photo shoot in which she tries to channel Monroe. The obvious question remains: why?
What is it about Monroe’s physical form, expressiveness and sub-textual qualities that elicit so much emulation? We could stop at raw sex appeal, but that fails to fully explain the attraction across genders and sexual orientations. Clearly Monroe could communicate and amplify her attributes in a way that few (if any) before or after are able. In this, she is properly “an icon.”
She is no mere representative of a class of “objects.” She is singular, transcendent — a category all on her own. Of course, we must note that her appeal is not universal, nor do we necessarily hold her persona, proclivities or priorities up as the model for anyone else. Moreover, the old saw that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” still applies. Even so, Monroe was in her own way a strong woman.
She recognized and commanded the power she had, specifically seated as it was. If we were to use her example as a model for young women today, it would have less to do with physical appearance and much more with managing their own presence and finding their own strength. Monroe did that in spades. Fortunately, the opportunities afforded modern women don’t require Monroe’s coquettish veneer.
Women are free to be their own person and forge their own destinies. If we are looking for a lasting iconic visage, Monroe’s curves and coiffure may be the most obvious starting points, but they betray the substance that lies beneath.