The Only Woman in the Room

“When I went to school—and suddenly became introduced to a wide, dizzying array of people—acting became my way of moving through the world, a sort of currency upon which I could draw whenever I needed.”

This quote demonstrates why Hedy is drawn to acting; it serves as a defense mechanism, a tool she uses to ensure that others like her. Having been isolated in her family home for most of her life, Hedy is overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people who pass through her life. Acting, then, comes to her far before she sets foot on a stage, making it more of a means for survival than a profession.

“[A]s soon as the Nazis came to power, they began a formal boycott of Jewish business and banned all non-Aryans from the legal profession and civil service. Jewish German citizens have not only been subject to violent attacks, but they’ve been stripped of their citizenship rights—rights that Austrian Jews have counted upon since the 1840s.” 

This is the first direct explanation of the state of things in Europe and sets the stage for the novel’s handling of antisemitism. Here, Hedy’s father is explaining to her the significance of the reports coming from Germany. This section emphasizes how little these reports are shared or discussed, explaining why Hedy did not fully understand them. This quote roots the narrative in a specific historical moment while foreshadowing the historically tragic fate of the millions of European Jews who would die during the Holocaust. 

“Just because I don’t wear a yarmulke and we don’t celebrate the High Holidays doesn’t mean we aren’t Jewish, particularly in the eyes of others.” 

Hedy’s father is upset when Hedy argues that their family isn’t Jewish because they are not orthodox. Her naivete shows here, demonstrating that she has little exposure to the outside world. Her father is touching upon identity politics; there are many ways to be Jewish, and Hedy cannot deny her heritage just because it doesn’t subscribe to a simplified model. Hedy’s vision of Judaism is in part based on prejudice, having been trained to “other” Jews despite being a part of the community. It is important that the novel establishes Hedy’s ties to Judaism before the narrative moves forward; she is Jewish, placing her and her family in imminent danger from the Nazi regime. 

“Weren’t these jewels a puny price to pay for my sacrifices? First my acting career, and now, my family’s heritage? Never mind that my own connection to my family’s religion was tenuous; it was a momentous surrender.”

Here, Hedy has just received the Cartier set from Fritz. The “king’s ransom” (56) of jewels is, superficially, a reminder of the wealth and privilege Hedy has access to as Mrs. Mandl. It is also, though, what she’s traded her entire identity for. These jewels will hold great significance throughout the text; like Hedy, they spend most of the narrative locked away, only pulled out when Fritz desires. Hedy reclaims their meaning when she uses them to escape Fritz. Ironically, the price Fritz paid for Hedy’s identity is the ransom she pays to free herself of him.

“I’ve handled these affairs for many years now, and they aren’t a mantle you should bear. The only onus that you should carry on your delicate shoulders is that of your beauty.”

The extent of Fritz’s expectations for his wife are laid out here. Hedy is only meant to be something beautiful in his life. Fritz’s condescension is frequent throughout the text and always involves him underestimating her simply because she is so beautiful. This quote also reveals how much Fritz values beauty in his life. As a rich man, he surrounds himself with beautiful objects and expects things to remain beautiful; Hedy is no exception. 

“He expected every hour of my long days to be spent in preparation for the evenings, preening and heightening my beauty. I was like an exotic bird, only permitted outside my gilded cage for performances and locked up again afterward.” 

Hedy’s simile is effective in relating how Fritz sees her. Like a bird, she is meant to be observed, to spend her days grooming, and to be locked away until he has use for her again. The analogy also indicates that her beauty is a prison; she is trapped inside a body that is consistently objectified, a body she is expected to spend every waking second perfecting. Hedy is imprisoned by the persona her husband—and indeed the rest of the world—expects her to live up to.

“Always, my priority was listening. I was like an antenna seeking out sounds no one else could hear. Silent harbingers of doom.” 

Hedy’s role at parties and meetings is always to observe. Though she draws others’ eyes, she quickly learns that most men assume she cannot understand what they speak of, so they speak freely. Hedy cleverly uses this to her advantage, storing away every detail she can to use for herself later. This quote also anticipates Hedy’s invention; her ability to act “like an antenna” is what empowers her to create a radio-hopping frequency designed to destroy the Third Reich.  

“Only with Papa did I remove all the masks. The grief had been like a hammer, splintering my true self and my many masks into countless pieces […] Perhaps I would always be shattered.” 

The theme of mask-wearing is used throughout the text to relate Hedy’s inability to be vulnerable to the rest of the world. Having been reduced to nothing more than beautiful time and time again, she learns to only offer a small sliver of her true self. She was open with her father because she trusted him, and his death marks the end of her willingness to be vulnerable with men. For the rest of her life, she never fully comes out from behind her mask. 

“Italy had no restrictions on Jews, unlike Germany, and as a result, I’d believed that Il Duce wasn’t anti-Semitic. No longer. I couldn’t believe this was the man upon whom I was pinning all my hopes for an independent Austria free of government-sanctioned anti-Semitism.” 

This is a significant revelation for Hedy because it teaches her that antisemitism is more pervasive than she previously thought. It also demonstrates that prejudice is not always explicitly outlined in laws but manifests through rhetoric and silently moves through institutions of power. This discovery presents Hedy with a dilemma she did not think possible: to choose between protecting her country or protecting her ancestral people. 

“Fritz allowed me to remain at the table because I’d become like one of the Rembrandts on the wall or the antique Meissen porcelain on the sideboard. Simply another priceless, inanimate decoration for Fritz to display, a symbol of his wealth and prowess.”

Hedy is incredibly astute. She intuitively knows what people want from her, which is one quality that makes her such a good actress. With Fritz, though, she was blind for so long—perhaps by love or by willful ignorance. By this point in the novel, she can no longer pretend not to understand her purpose in Fritz’s life. Unfortunately, this foreshadows how most men will see her in her life: Her second husband enjoys having a star on his arm, and the Navy refuses to take on her invention because they only see it as an actress’s trivial experiment. Her beauty, to others, obscures everything else about her.  

“A wife’s duty is to her husband, she was prone to announcing whenever applicable. I wondered, not for the first time, whether this proclamation was borne out of jealousy and a modicum of rage. That because she herself had made the sacrifice of a promising career as a concert pianist to become a hausfrau and mother, she believed I should be bound to make similar renouncements and commitments. No matter the cost.” 

As foils, Hedy and her mother often ideologically collide. Here, though, Hedy articulates exactly why her mother is so cruel to her: out of resentment. Hedy’s mother’s sacrifices are emblematic of what women were expected to give up during this time. Their individual identities were meant to be usurped by their domestic roles—and Hedy’s rejection of that is interpreted as a rejection of her mother’s values. While Hedy’s mother represents the valuing of tradition and decorum, Hedy represents modernity and the destabilizing of social norms.   

“Listening carefully to the men, I realized that I was being discussed as if I weren’t present, as if I were chattel—which, after the deal I’d struck, I now was.” 

Hedy’s life as an actress in Hollywood proves to echo much of her life in Vienna. Again, men believe they own her. This quote touches upon the inhumane treatment unknown actors, particularly women, often undergo. By signing a contract, Hedy is understood to have been forgoing all control over her identity, permitting the executives to refashion her into who they want her to be. Hedy has spent the last few years listening to men talk as if she were not present. This suggests that she will not find the recognition she seeks in her new life.  

“Only then did I realize that in accepting a second history, I could never really leave the first history behind. My past life would seep into my new world like water through cracks in a dam that had never been properly shored—until I faced my original history square on.” 

First, this quote represents Hedy’s crisis of identity. Her active negation of her past and Austrian-Jewish identity fails to free her of it. This is an important lesson in trauma for Hedy: She cannot run from it but can only heal by addressing it. Second, the quote critiques the historical record of Hedy’s life; her life as an actress does not overshadow her Austrian-Jewish history or her legacy as an inventor. Benedict uses metatextuality to convey that a person’s history is in fact made up of multiple histories. 

“But we tried to work as a pair to avoid compromising positions with any of the men present. We’d heard too many stories about aspiring starlets—usually girls without a contract, connection, or financial means—being preyed upon in empty bedrooms and dark hallways.”

Here, the novel comments upon a still common occurrence in Hollywood: the sexual exploitation of young women. Now in a post-Me-Too world, the audience can identify the predatory behavior of the men at these parties more easily. With Hedy and her fellow actresses, it is interpreted as simply part of their profession. The industry puts it on the women to avoid being assaulted rather than stopping the men from assaulting them. Moreover, this quote portrays Hollywood as a microcosm of the rest of the world; in both, Hedy is viewed as a receptor of male desire and, consequently, she is solely responsible for warding off their affections.

“She glanced over at her husband with obvious suspicion. ‘Why are you keeping Hedy hidden away in the corner? Aren’t you always screaming at your actors and actresses to mingle at these awful parties?’”

Mrs. Mayer protects Hedy from the exploitation of her husband in this scene. When she approaches, Mr. Mayer has just put his hand suggestively on Hedy’s knee and suggested that she keep him happy if she wants roles. The previous quote establishes the commonality of this experience among women in Hollywood; this quote demonstrates how women who are in a unique position of power can shield other women even from their own husbands. Through Hedy’s friendships with other actresses, the set crew, and Mrs. Mayer, the novel undermines the trope of women in Hollywood working against one another. Instead, the women in this novel support and defend each other. 

“The storyline of Algiers was chock-full of action and intrigue, but those scenes were off-limits for my character, Gaby, who functioned as forbidden fruit for the main character, the jewel thief Pepe. The ornamental nature of my character didn’t surprise me—most roles for women in Hollywood were decorative only—but the chance to give texture and heft to Gaby was an intriguing, if unexpected, opportunity.” 

This passage emphasizes the limited roles that exist for women. While men play complex characters with exciting lives, women are relegated to one-dimensional characters only present to elevate their male counterpart’s storyline. Hedy is optimistic because she has the talent to transform her roles into more, just as she has done with her life. Hedy, like Gaby, has served as the forbidden fruit to many men, but she’s learned to exploit all she can from that role. 

“What would happen to the Austrian Jews now? […] To utter such words would have been tantamount to admitting that I was a Jew myself and that I’d been privy to this event before it happened. And in Hollywood, there were no Jews.” 

The guilt and conflict Hedy feels about her new life is primarily derived from her decision to hide her old life. She views her success in Hollywood as partly coming at the expense of her true identity and feels ashamed for rejecting an identity that is killing so many. However, Hedy had to make that decision because Hollywood is not much more tolerant than the world she escaped; antisemitism is so deeply entrenched in society that she cannot even express empathy towards those suffering across the world.

“How could I justify living in such abundance when terrors and deprivations were happening daily in Austria?” 

Hedy’s guilt over prospering in a time of profound suffering intensifies throughout the narrative. This is evocative of survivor’s guilt, a symptom of PTSD and a condition in which the sufferer feels fault or responsibility for surviving what others did not. In Hedy’s case, she blames herself for not acting on the knowledge she had access to before others. When she escapes and finds success, she further obsesses over her perceived failures because each pleasure is a reminder of others’ suffering. This not only establishes Hedy’s empathetic capacity but serves as her major motivation for acting out against the Third Reich. 

“‘So as few immigrants as possible can enter the country, of course,’ he went on, oblivious to the dreadful nature of his statement.”

Benedict critiques America’s role in the loss of life during the Holocaust—and perhaps other atrocities. As Hedy inquires how to safely extract her mother from Austria, she learns the that the US’s immigration policies are intentionally drafted to keep people out of the country. This government-sanctioned xenophobia leads to Hedy’s full disillusionment towards the country she emigrated to; she realizes that this country is not much different from the one she fled. The speaker’s casual delivery of the news is indicative of the general public’s ignorance of how damaging these policies can be. It also lies some of the burden of responsibility at the US’s—and countries with similar policies—feet for the millions of lives lost. 

“I nodded, allowing George to believe that my rescue of Jamesie coupled with Benares constituted the entire impetus of my inventing. But I knew that Jamesie was only one of the many victims of the Third Reich that I was compelled to save. I knew that when I escaped Austria without sharing my suspicions—or bringing anyone with me—that I became obliged to save many, many more.” 

Out of shame and fear, Hedy never shares the true nature of her life in Austria with others. Instead, she internalizes it, bleeding her guilt into action. First, with the adoption of Jamesie, then with her invention. Jamesie, who is most likely a Jewish refugee, represents the millions of innocents at risk in Europe. However, nothing is ever enough to relieve her of her burden. She comes to see her survival as selfishness and endeavors to rebalance the scales by sacrificing her time and peace to save others.

“George, I’m used to men treating me like you just did—like I’m some object fashioned for their desires—but I expected more of you. A friendship and collaboration like ours has never happened to me before, and it means more to me than any affair.”

Hedy’s greatest insecurity is that people never value her for who she is on the inside. With George, she thought she found a companion who saw her for her—as intelligent, messy, and passionate. By kissing Hedy, George unconsciously shows her that she can only be desirable. The blow is especially hurtful because George is the first man she’s been almost entirely herself with since her father died, and his betrayal dissuades her from being vulnerable with men again.

“You expect me to believe this nonsense, Miss Lamarr? Please, I am not a stupid woman. My husband is a musician, not a scientist, and you are […] you are nothing but a pretty face.” 

George’s wife, Boski, unknowingly targets Hedy’s greatest source of self-doubt. Her whole life, she worried that if she were to show the world her unmasked self, they wouldn’t believe or accept her because they prefer the masks. Here, Boski’s disbelief in Hedy’s capabilities signifies society’s prejudicial views towards women—that they can only be one thing or the other. Boski’s response betrays her internalized misogyny, which she too suffers from and then perpetuates. Hedy, in contrast, destabilizes these beliefs every time she opens herself up to the world, even if briefly. 

“But my advice to you is this—stick to your films. They help lift people’s spirits. But if you’re bound and determined to help with the war effort, we think you’d be better able to assist by selling war bonds than building torpedoes.” 

The council’s rejection of Hedy and George’s invention is the novel’s most blatant display of sexism; though it certainly saturates the narrative, this moment is the only time Hedy faces it head on and loses. Here, the council dismisses Hedy’s intellect, only valuing her superficial attributes. Their patronization is also evocative of the wartime propaganda that sought to establish women’s roles during the war; while men went off to fight, women were expected to “fight” on the home front by cutting back on goods and buying/selling war bonds. The gendered division of labor during this time is nothing new, but this scene emphasizes how these norms are a disservice to all of society. To limit what women can do, the council effectively prolongs the war and increases the loss of life.