No Regrets - Carolyn Burke [98]
Ed Sullivan welcomed her back to his show a few weeks later. That night, she sang “La Goualante du pauvre Jean” and “L’Homme à la moto,” demonstrating her ease in these strikingly different traditions, and responding easily to Sullivan’s humor (when she translated the first song as “The Poor People of Paris,” he asked her to sing to “the poor people of New York”). Each night at the Versailles, she smashed one of the crystal goblets that she used as stage props in “Les Amants d’un jour” to turn the nightclub into the shabby hotel of the song—until the management asked her to stop because of the cost. Booked in the States for the next six months, she hoped to return to Paris in April 1957 for a rest, “something I’ve never had,” she told Bourgeat. She had a surprise that revealed how much he had helped her: “I’m a millionaire.… You so much hoped I could start saving, well, I’ve begun. Do I astound you? I think I owe this to the being who is so close to me and surrounds me with such unconditional love.”
Edith often reread Bourgeat’s account of Rosicrucianism, a source of solace that she kept among her private papers. That autumn of 1956, she was initiated into the order under the guidance of Marc Bonel, who had joined in 1954. “It helped her to relax,” Bonel said. Being a member did not require much discipline, he added: “It’s enough to read the monographs … in the proper sequence to face life’s problems serenely.” No doubt at Piaf’s urging, her intimates, including Liébrard, followed her example.
In mid-November, Piaf and her entourage began the extended tour that would crisscross North America that winter, starting in Quebec, and in the following spring take her back to South America. After Quebec, they flew to Dallas for two weeks, then to Los Angeles for a return engagement at the Mocambo (one wonders if she found time to see Brando). Already on the verge of collapse by the end of the year, she managed to record “My Own Merry-Go-Round” (“Mon Manège à moi”) and “If You Love Me” (“Hymne à l’amour”) at Capitol Records’ Los Angeles studios for an album that would include all of her songs in English.
By the start of 1957, Piaf’s fatigue was so great that she felt “a sort of confusion … a total lack of balance,” she told Bourgeat—a condition that she hoped to overcome by working twice as hard, so that she could afford to take a long rest. Though grateful for Liébrard’s support, she missed her mentor: “The older I get, the more I understand how rare friendship is; if only you knew how precious yours is to me.”
After concerts in Washington and Philadelphia, she was booked for her second Carnegie Hall recital on January 13. Despite her poor health (sinusitis, bronchitis, a high fever), she refused to heed the doctor who told her to cancel: “I didn’t bring you here for that,” she raged. “Your job is to give me an injection so I can last two hours onstage.” With the support of Bonel, Liébrard, and the forty local musicians and singers, she lasted an hour and forty minutes, giving the audience some of her best songs in English: “Lovers for a Day,” “Heaven Have Mercy,” “Happy,” “The Highway”; she sang “La Vie en rose” in both languages and the rest of her repertoire in French. Piaf