Bloom & Gloom

Jean Cocteau's earliest mentor had quite the reputation.

My deepest apologies for the tardiness of this piece — I fell quite ill right before my return to Los Angeles, and needed the time to travel, settle, and recuperate! I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless! x

Edouard de Max in the role of Prometheus, c. 1900.

Nobody comes into the world like Athena from the head of Zeus, fully formed. We are born, raised, molded, sculpted and developed over time; our natural predispositions combine with our environment and, like water and light, allow the seeds of our personality to bloom.

Jean Cocteau was no different.

Though mostly known to us today as a mentor to many (François Truffaut and Jean Genet, among others,) of course he was himself mentored by several of French culture’s most legendary names: Marcel Proust, Serge Diaghilev, and in the earliest case, Edouard de Max.

Cocteau was a precocious kid from an haut-bourgeois Parisian family who was blessed with good connections. He was also, as we would probably call him today, a twink: lanky and attractive and in possession of a big personality that had yet to be dampened by the cruelties that his life and time dealt him.

From an early age, he showed every sign of being gifted and talented – and a handful. His mother (who was quite literally beleaguered by his behavior until the day she died, by which point he was in his fifties) shrewdly made introductions to those who could grant the baby of the family access to the chicest salons of the day, and hopefully, take him off of her hands.

The person to do so came with a colorful personality in his own right – and would ultimately change the trajectory of young Jean’s life forever.

Edouard de Max was a Romanian Jew born on Valentine’s Day, 1869, eventually making his way to Paris and joining the Paris Conservatoire when he was nineteen years old. He was captivatingly beautiful, with large blue eyes, a Byzantine profile, and what was by all accounts a striking speaking voice. As a Romanian and a Jew, he was well aware of his status as an exotic outsider to Parisian society and played it up – making him a near instant sex symbol as well (although, it must be said, appearing nude on stage certainly contributed to this reputation, too.)