Playboy Interview: Princess Grace
January, 1966
a candid conversation with the regal consort of monaco's prince rainier
Ten years ago, in an MGM picture called "The Swan," Alec Guinness played the courtly prince of a fairy-tale kingdom who marries a beautiful commoner. Five days after its premiere, the movie's improbable cliché of the story line was re-enacted in real life: Guinness' costar, a cool, blue-eyed blonde named Grace Kelly, gave up her flourishing film career to become the consort of the absolute monarch of the principality of Monaco, a Graustarkian 390-acre realm half the size of New York's Central Park. Perched scenically on the Côte d'Azur between Nice and the Italian Riviera, bypassed by the tide of world events during most of its eight-century history, tiny Monaco--with its opulent Casino, emerald harbor and white beaches--had become in recent decades an elegantly antiquated playground for the diminishing ranks of international café society. But when Prince Rainier III announced his storybook betrothal to a regnant queen of Hollywood, the diminutive dominion found itself basking suddenly in the unfamiliar glare of world-wide publicity. Its huge palace, once described by Alfred Hitchcock as "a run-down post office," was redecorated for the royal wedding; the pitted streets of Monte Carlo were patched and festooned with bunting; and hundreds of newsmen, photographers, TV camera crews and rubbernecking tourists descended on Monaco to watch, along with the principality's 27,000 inhabitants, as the sole surviving scion of the ancient House of Grimaldi, a holder of 139 titles, bestowed a new one on his 26-year-old bride from Philadelphia: Her Most Serene Highness Princess Grace of Monaco.
It was to be her most demanding role--but one for which she might almost be said to have been typecast, by nature as well as by MGM. Though not a blue-blood--her Irish father, despite a self-made $18,000,000 fortune, had begun his contracting career as a lowly bricklayer--she was born with a patrician profile and a demure demeanor that gentle rearing and genteel schooling refined into a well-bred bearing as finely honed as any Main Line debutante's. Refusing to content herself, like so many of her finishing-school-mates, with the postgraduate role of social butterfly, she set out for New York at 17--determined to "find herself"--and signed up for a two-year curriculum at the prestigious American Academy of Dramatic Arts, earning her tuition money with part-time photographic modeling for fashion and cosmetic ads.
Before long she was appearing regularly, if only in walk-ons and bit parts, in live TV dramas--making little money and less impact on the reviewers, but gaining invaluable experience for the bigger and better roles she coveted. They were soon to come. Longing to taste the special excitement of performing before a live audience--but mostly to remain solvent during the rerun season--she deserted the tube, and the Great White Way, for a cross-country stint on the summer-stock circuit. Graduating to supporting parts, Grace Kelly began to be mentioned, and sometimes even applauded, by the critics. Then, just before she turned 20, came an early birthday present: a featured role on Broadway opposite Raymond Massey in Strindberg's "The Father." Heartbreakingly, for her, the play folded after only two months; but Grace didn't have long to grieve, for her performance had been seen and appreciated by a man who, though he didn't know it then, was about to rechart the entire course of her life in ways that a Hollywood hack would have dismissed as too wildly improbable a plot line even for a children's fairy tale. The man was an executive for 20th Century-Fox with a firm, if less than thrilling, offer of a very minor speaking part in a B suspense picture called "Fourteen Hours." Though she wasn't enchanted by the thought of abandoning the intellectual ferment of theatrical Manhattan for the so-called creative Sahara of Southern California, she decided to accept the role; she could always act and run, she reasoned. She went to Hollywood and made the movie in 1951--but like so many other screenophobic New York stagefolk lured west for a single film, she found herself staying on, and on--at first just for one more picture, a meatier part, this one as the long-suffering Quaker wife of Gary Cooper in "High Noon." When this classic Western turned out to be not only a box-office smash but also a resounding critical success. Grace was transfigured almost overnight into a burgeoning movie star, and before you could say "hot property," the 22-year-old Irish bricklayer's daughter was signed to a fat seven-year contract with MGM.
After one last futile fling at the Broadway stage--in a turkey ironically entitled "To Be Continued," which wasn't--she returned to Hollywood determined to establish her credentials as a screen actress. She did so in her next film, wining an Oscar nomination in 1953 for her subtly modulated performance in "Mogambo" as the provocative hypotenuse of a triangle between a predatory white hunter (Clark Gable) and her ineffectual husband on an African safari. Next came a pair of Alfred Hitchcock thrillers, both in 1954: "Dial M for Murder," in which she played the intended victim of a homicidal husband (Ray Milland); and "Rear Window," in which she flirted with death yet again, this time at the hands of a psychotic wife-dismemberer, as James Stewart's intrepid girlfriend and partner in crime detection. "The charismatic combination of freshness, ladylike virtue and underlying sex appeal which she exudes with such style and self-assurance," as one critic described it, had already become her trademark for millions of movie fans.
In her very next film, however, as if to confound their expectations--and those of reviewers who had become fond of saying about her things like, "Though Miss Kelly has little to do but look lovely, she does it with aristocratic aplomb"--she played the dowdy, downbeat title role in "The Country Girl." Her depressingly believable performance won her an Academy Award as the best actress of 1954. Not content to rest on her well-earned laurels and wait for a good script, she made a fourth picture that year: "Green Fire," a steamy jungle potboiler that added little luster to her stardom. In it, reverting to stereotype as a coolly beautiful but headstrong Brazilian coffee-plantation owner, she fought to transcend the banality of the scenario no less valiantly than to tame the wilderness--unfortunately with less success. In "The Bridges at Toko-Ri," she fared only slightly better as the demure, dutiful, quietly courageous wife of a Korea jet pilot (William Holden) who was shot down over enemy lines. "High Society," her first and only musical comedy, found, her cast as a two-dimensional socialite type opposite Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra. Though her best lines were in her profile, she displayed an engaging comic flair that spurred producers to begin offering her light-comedy roles as well as straight dramatic parts.
But she never got the chance to consider either, for later that same year, on a trip to Europe, stopping off in Monaco on a picture-taking publicity session for Paris Match, she was taken to the palace and introduced, as a diplomatic courtesy, to Prince Rainier. Despite gushing fan-magazine reports to the contrary, no romantic sparks flew at this first brief meeting, though they liked each other well enough to date two or three times before her return to Hollywood. On a state visit to the U. S. a few months later, however, the Prince was a house guest at the Kelly home in Philadelphia, and a few weeks after that their engagement was announced. Then came "The Swan," her swan song for the screen, and finally the klieg-lit carnival of the royal wedding.
In the decade since that historic day, both Hollywood and Philadelphia have been left far behind. She took naturally and happily to the role of wife and mother--bearing her husband three children, including an all-important heir, seven-year-old Prince Albert. But her adjustment has been slow and difficult to the elaborate protocol and politesse of princesshood, to the myriad diplomatic burdens and social constraints of her official role as consort, to the parochial atmosphere and attitudes of an old-fashioned European town after a lifetime in the cosmopolitan U. S., and to the impossibility of living like an ordinary citizen, or even like an ordinary ex-movie star. But after ten years in the role--almost interrupted in 1962 by a brief flirtation with the idea of returning to films for a one-shot as the star of Hitchcock's "Marnie," a scheme vetoed at the last minute by her husband--friends say she seems, at 36, to have come to terms with her past and present, to have accepted finally the burdens and sacrifices of her new life, to have acquired a new poise, a quiet self-assurance which enables her not only to meet but to relish her royal responsibilities.
Among them is the task of winnowing through the hundreds of interview requests with which she's inundated from all over the world. Her crowded schedule of state duties and Monegasque charity work permits her to accept only a handful of them in the course of a year. Playboy's is one of the few to which she has consented in recent months. Through her appointments secretary, we were advised that Princess Grace would expect us to call on her at the palace in the late afternoon on a date about one month hence--her earliest uncommitted time--when she would be able to spare us the hours between tea and cocktails. Arriving at the appointed time, we were ushered into a lavish, high-ceilinged drawing room where we found the Princess--behind horn-rimmed glasses--poring over her correspondence at an antique escritoire. Looking up as we entered, she removed her horn rims, smiled impersonally, rose from her chair, greeted us and invited us to take a seat. After a few minutes of polite amenities, her veneer of diplomatic reserve began to dissolve when we discovered that we shared mutual friends in the New York theater. Ice duly broken, we turned on the tape machine and began the interview.
Playboy: What are your duties and obligations as Monaco's Princess?
Princess Grace: My first duty is as wife and mother to my children. I also have many official duties: I'm president of the Monegasque Red Cross, and the principality is so small that I am really involved in most of the social and charitable work here as far as children and old people are concerned. I'm also honorary president of the girl scouts, and I'm building a new nursery for children. I'm also interested in promoting handwork by artisans, particularly local crafts such as ceramics, pottery and hand weaving. Recently I opened a foundation which will try to promote handicraft. I want to give our artisans the opportunity to show their work.
Playboy: Would you describe a day at the palace?
Princess Grace: Every day is so different. I rise fairly early. Often I'll spend the whole day in the office, see my mail, entertain visitors in the afternoon. Monday mornings I'm concerned with problems of the household, with what receptions are being held that week. We have lunch with our children as often as possible. Three afternoons a week I receive people who have requested audiences for one reason or another. I'm also busy with plans for the celebration of this year's centenary of Monte Carlo, which was created by Prince Charles, my husband's great-great-grandfather.
Playboy: What is the origin of Prince Rainier's family tree?
Princess Grace: The House of Monaco is that of the Grimaldi family, whose history is linked with the principality. It came into being in Genoa, where the first member of historical note, Otto Canella, was born around the 11th Century. The descendants of Otto took as their family name the first name of Otto's youngest son, Grimaldo, who distinguished himself as ambassador to Frederick Barbarossa and Manuel Comnenus, emperor of Byzantium. At the end of the 13th Century, the struggles between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, political factions in Genoa, forced the Grimaldis into exile, and they took refuge in Provence. François Grimaldi, disguised in a monk's robe, succeeded in infiltrating a group of his partisans into the fortress of Monaco, which they took by surprise. Thus did the Grimaldi family retake possession of the place in which they were to found a dynasty. The coat of arms of this line of princes--two monks brandishing swords--perpetuates the memory of this event. During the last hundred years, the rulers have been Prince Charles III, Albert I and Louis II. The destiny of the principality has been in the hands of Prince Rainier III, my husband, since 1949.
Playboy: Who introduced you to your husband? Was there a matchmaker of any sort?
Princess Grace: Pierre Galante of the French magazine Paris Match was the one who introduced me to the Prince.
Playboy: Do you believe in the institution of matchmaking?
Princess Grace: It depends on the individual. I believe in the timing of people meeting; if I had met the Prince ten years before I met him, it would not have had the same effect. When we met we were both ready to get married. It just happened that way.
Playboy: Your marriage has been described as a "fairy-tale romance." Has it ever seemed that way to you?
Princess Grace: I've never seen anything fairy-talish about it, no.
Playboy: What was the most unusual gift you received for your wedding?
Princess Grace: We received everything from a hundred chickens to a lion and a bear. The chickens are gone, but the lion and the bear are still here in the Prince's zoo.
Playboy: Did you feel any animosity toward those royal families who didn't attend the wedding?
Princess Grace: It made no difference to me. I didn't know them before.
Playboy: With which of the European royal families are you friendly?
Princess Grace: We're very friendly with the queen of Spain, who is the godmother of our little boy. We're also friendly with the Greek and Rumanian royal families.
Playboy: How long did it take you to get used to royal life in Monaco?
Princess Grace: Well, it was quite a change; I had always lived in big cities. I had also spent nearly ten years acting; it was quite a change from an actor's life to civilian life, so to speak. But the biggest change was being married. This was the biggest adjustment. There were so many changes to be made all at once.
Playboy: Do you miss the United States?
Princess Grace: I miss a lot about the United States. Most of all. I miss my family.
Playboy: Has your relationship with your family changed since you became a princess?
Princess Grace: They probably tease me a little bit more than they used to. But other than that, nothing has changed. We're always teasing one another, mostly my sisters and brother. But I don't get to see them often enough. I also miss lots of my friends back in the U.S. And I miss a certain American attitude toward things. I enjoy my life here very much, but there is quite a different outlook and a different approach to life in Europe. At times I get homesick for the American approach, which is more direct, a little easier, perhaps.
Playboy: Since you aren't a native-born Monegasque, are you regarded by any of your subjects as a foreigner or an outsider?
Princess Grace: Oh yes. certainly, very much so. People were terribly sweet and wonderful to me when I arrived, and greeted me most warmly and affectionately, but there are certain people who still consider me a foreigner. When I go to New York, headwaiters will speak French to me, and when I'm in Europe, they will speak English.
Playboy: Are you fluent in French?
Princess Grace: I'm still working at it.
Playboy: As a girl born in Philadelphia who has lived in New York and Hollywood, don't you find Monaco at times a bit too small and parochial?
Princess Grace: It does seem small, yes. It is a very small town and, like all small towns, there is often a small-town attitude; one is not as free as in a big town. In my position here, everyone knows what I do at every moment.
Playboy: Does this make you uncomfortable?
Princess Grace: It's been a little difficult for me to get used to. But I can come and go about Monaco more or less as I like, without inconvenience--except in the summertime, when a great many tourists and visitors come here. If I take a walk, I'll have 50 or 100 of them trailing me, taking pictures and asking for autographs.
Playboy: Have you ever wished you could be just plain Grace Kelly again?
Princess Grace: I have no interest in going back. My life now is too full. I was very "plain" back in Philadelphia; I don't think I'd like to go back to that again. Before my marriage. I was very much a 20th Century modern young woman. I was very independent, which I enjoyed very much. But too much independence for a woman I don't think brings so much happiness.
Playboy: If your daughter wanted to be a movie star, would you object?
Princess Grace: I think so, yes--although her father would object to it before I could. It isn't the life one would choose for one's daughter. I know my mother didn't choose it for me. When I was in the theater, I longed only to be on the stage. I got into films afterward.
Playboy: Do you ever regret giving up your film career?
Princess Grace: No, I was only sorry to stop just when I was beginning to learn what it was all about. But acting is a wonderful career and I do miss it at times. But my life now is much fuller in every sense.
Playboy: Do you miss Hollywood?
Princess Grace: No, I don't. I'd like to see some of my friends there, but as a city, I don't miss it at all.
Playboy: Do you still receive fan mail from the U. S.?
Princess Grace: Yes, I get quite a bit. I get many requests for pictures, autographs, and so forth and I fulfill them as best I can.
Playboy: Do you still get movie offers?
Princess Grace: Yes.
Playboy: Are you ever tempted to accept any of them?
Princess Grace: Well, I love acting, and certainly I would love to continue. But one has to choose in life. When I was acting, I wasn't a very happy person. It isn't much fun to have success and no one to share it with. Right now I have a very full and happy life. Much too full and much too busy. I don't have time for all the things I would like to do.
Playboy: Would your husband oppose your resuming an acting career?
Princess Grace: Yes, because, first of all, it would be very difficult. I wouldn't have the time. I have three children. I have the Red Cross and many other activities. I just would never be able to get three months together to be able to do a picture.
Playboy: Even if it were shot in Monaco?
Princess Grace: How can I be Princess in the palace and run down to the set and make a film in Monaco? It's not possible.
Playboy: Do your children know that their mother was a famous movie star?
Princess Grace: They've seen some of my pictures. They were very pleased and excited about it. They saw High Noon and To Catch a Thief.
Playboy: Do you plan to have any more children?
Princess Grace: I don't know. I have three now, which is quite a nice number. It would be nice to have more, but I don't know.
Playboy: How do you feel about birth control?
Princess Grace: As a Catholic, I have mixed viewpoints about it. Certainly something will have to be done about it. It's a problem that needs studying, and is being studied by the Catholic Church, very wisely. But I don't think it's something one can say arbitrarily should or shouldn't be practiced; it should be left to people to decide for themselves. As adult human beings, we should be able to decide such a personal thing for ourselves.
Playboy: Do you think that birth-control information should be made available to the general public?
Princess Grace: Definitely.
Playboy: Do you favor the use of birth-control pills?
Princess Grace: Well, the pill does not exist in France, because it is a Catholic country; these problems are hardly even discussed. But I know from English people and my American friends that the pill is being used increasingly by people who can afford to have children. The big problem is for the ignorant masses of people who can't afford to. This is the problem.
Playboy: Do you foresee a change in Vatican policy toward birth control?
Princess Grace: I don't know, but I hope something will be done--for the benefit of the many who really need it.
Playboy: Have you met Pope Paul?
Princess Grace: No, but I met Pope John. He was a charming man, a wonderful, warm human being, full of goodness.
Playboy: Do you think that Pope Paul continues the spirit of liberal reform and brotherhood enunciated by John in his Pacem in Terris?
Princess Grace: Yes, I do. I thought the Pope's visit to New York a thrilling and wonderful gesture; I hope and pray that mankind can heed his demand for peace. And I certainly feel that he champions both freedom of religion and tolerance of other faiths.
Playboy: Do yon know General de Gaulle?
Princess Grace: I've met the general on several occasions. He is a great man. I admire him very much.
Playboy: How do you feel about De Gaulle's hostility toward the United States?
Princess Grace: I am naturally saddened by General de Gaulle's attitude toward the U. S. and the strong feeling of anti-Americanism that exists in France.
Playboy: How do you account for it?
Princess Grace: These misunderstandings happen because of so many little things, sometimes insignificant ones. For the most part, Frenchmen who have been to the U.S. like Americans: but these are few, alas. Most Frenchmen know Americans only from those they see in Europe: and many people, when they travel, behave differently than they do when they're at home. But this pertains to everyone, not only to Americans. As a matter of fact. I find the behavior of other nationalities far more tiresome abroad than that of American tourists. I think Americans are misunderstood. For example, in America one tries to save time. You cut your telephone conversations short because time is short and you think you're doing someone a favor if you save him time. The French don't understand this. The more time you can give them, the more you can talk to them, the more flattering it is. Americans are perhaps a little more direct and abrupt, and the French mistake this for rudeness.
Playboy: Apart from his attitude toward America, do you think De Gaulle has been a good president?
Princess Grace: Yes, I think De Gaulle has done a great deal for France and for the Frenchman; and I do not think there can be a more difficult people to govern. Everyone in France is deeply concerned as to what will happen after De Gaulle. It is a tremendous problem. For one thing, Europeans are reluctant to give responsibility to young men; and for another, the Communists in France are much too well organized to suit me.
Playboy: Do you know President Johnson?
Princess Grace: I've met him briefly.
Playboy: What do you think of him?
Princess Grace: He's a very warm person with a very outgoing personality, and I think he's a very capable executive. But I don't always agree with American foreign policy, so it's difficult for me to comment too much.
Playboy: What in particular don't you agree with?
Princess Grace: Vietnam. The U. S. has made some bad errors there, to my way of thinking. I think the Americans were very fooled by Madame Nhu. The newspapers made her out to be a wicked "Dragon Lady," which maybe she was. But was she any worse than those who have followed? And the fact that the Buddhists were infiltrated with Communists did not seem to have an effect on the American attitude toward them. And the American role in the coup d'état there was shocking. So many mistakes have been committed. How does one go back and undo them?
Playboy: If you were in the United States today, would you have joined the students, professors and others who are advocating that the U. S. pull out of Vietnam?
Princess Grace: I would have to know more about their motives. What can the Americans actually do in Vietnam? At this point, they can't just pull out and go away.
Playboy: Then you think that the U. S. has a right to be there?
Princess Grace: Well, someone has to be there.
Playboy: Do you feel that the American policy of escalation in Vietnam is justified? Will it help bring the Vietcong to the conference table?
Princess Grace: I don't know. Things are in such a bad way now that I don't know how a satisfactory solution can be found. I leave that to bigger brains than mine.
Playboy: Your neighbor France favors the admission of Red China to the UN. Do you?
Princess Grace: I feel it is difficult to ignore a nation of 700,000,000 people; yet one cannot admit them on their terms. I am only bewildered as to why Red China would like to be accepted into an organization dedicated to peace when they want war so badly.
Playboy: Are you in favor of Western trade relations with Red China--or with any other Communist countries?
Princess Grace: No.
Playboy: The U. S. has been criticized at various times for its support of dictatorial regimes--such as that of Franco Spain--simply because they are anti-Communist. What are your feelings?
Princess Grace: Some countries at certain times need dictatorships. As for Franco, I feel he has done a lot for Spain and its people.
Playboy: Are you deeply and personally interested in international politics?
Princess Grace: Yes and no. I sort of get disgusted. I can go along only so far. People do such foolish things and then I lose interest.
Playboy: Then let's turn to Monegasque affairs. What are the facts behind your husband's much-publicized conflict with Aristotle Onassis?
Princess Grace: My husband thinks that Onassis does not do enough for the development of Monte Carlo.
Playboy: You mean that he doesn't invest enough in Monaco?
Princess Grace: That's right. I don't think that Mr. Onassis' investment in the Société des Bains de Mer of Monte Carlo is of very great importance to his over-all empire. He has so many more and bigger investments than Monte Carlo. I feel that his ownership of the majority of shares, and therefore a controlling interest, in the Casino of Monte Carlo has been more for his own amusement than a serious business affair. It's hard for someone to remain deeply concerned with something that was once fun but now gives him problems.
Playboy: We understand Onassis also opposes Prince Rainier's plan to "popularize" Monte Carlo to attract the tourist trade. What do these plans involve?
Princess Grace: There are interesting plans to modernize certain parts of the principality, but Monte Carlo should never and could never be another St.-Tropez: the two places are too different and each one has its particular charm. Monte Carlo must remain elegant and a little old-fashioned. Everyone is not of my opinion, unfortunately. We often have to fight to try to keep many people who are eager for a fast dollar from cheapening the tone of Monte Carlo. It is a hard fight.
Playboy: Are you on speaking terms with Onassis?
Princess Grace: Yes. I haven't seen him in several months, though.
Playboy: Is it mostly a business feud, then?
Princess Grace: Yes.
Playboy: Maria Callas is a mutual friend of yours and Onassis'. What do you think of her as a singer and a person?
Princess Grace: I think she is a very great artist, and as a person I find her to be a nice, warm, and very honest, forth-right person. She says what she thinks and what she feels, which is a quality I admire very much.
Playboy: Do you do the same?
Princess Grace: Not quite as openly, perhaps.
Playboy: You mean for diplomatic reasons?
Princess Grace: No, it's a question of temperament, I think.
Playboy: Don't you ever get your "Irish" up?
Princess Grace: Oh, yes, that comes out by itself.
Playboy: You said some time ago, "We have lost the joy of creation, and people have no challenges." What did you mean by that?
Princess Grace: I said that as far as modern-day life is concerned. For a woman today, there aren't as many challenges to one's creative instincts as before. I mean, everything is made too easy. It has to be, because modern woman has so much to do; she has to be not only a wife, mother, cook and housekeeper, but many things. And I think that the American woman does it better than most anyone else, though it's happening all over the world now--all over Europe, too. But we live at such a rapid pace that there isn't enough time to enjoy the everyday pleasures.
Playboy: You have described yourself as a pessimist. Are you really?
Princess Grace: Yes, I guess it's kind of an inverted optimism. Because I am pessimistic, I always expect the worst. When it doesn't happen. I have a nice surprise.
Playboy: Are you happy, then?
Princess Grace: Well, I don't expect to be; I don't look for happiness. So perhaps I am very content in life, in a way.
Playboy: How would you define happiness?
Princess Grace: I suppose being at peace with yourself, not anxiously seeking for something, not being frantic about not having something.
Playboy: Are you at peace with yourself?
Princess Grace: Well, I understand myself. But I argue with myself all the time, so I guess I'm not really at peace.
Playboy: Have you ever felt the need of a psychiatrist?
Princess Grace: Well, for the moment I seem to be getting along all right. So far, so good.
Playboy: Since you haven't found peace of mind, what do you think will help you achieve it?
Princess Grace: Well, I have many unfulfilled ambitions in life. If, God willing, I can keep my health and strength and manage to pull myself out of bed in the morning, some of them may be realized.
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