#michael strange

[bidotorg]

EXTRA! EXTRA! Read all about it!

Socialite-turned-poet Michael Strange was the toast (and terror) of 1920s New York — a bisexual icon who traded debutante balls for bohemian bedlam.

Born Blanche Oelrichs, they shocked high society by becoming Michael Strange, marrying John Barrymore, writing plays too steamy for Broadway, and romancing women like Margaret Wise Brown (Goodnight Moon, indeed).

Scandal? Check. Talent? Absolutely. Regret? Not a drop of gin’s worth. 🍸

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[physalia-prime]

Margaret Wise Brown: A Bisexual Icon

Yes, it's true. The woman that wrote

Had a relationship with a woman in the 1940s.

Who was this woman, you may be wondering?

Blanche Oelrichs.

Or, as she was known under a pen name, Michael Strange.

They started an affair in 1942 until Browns 3rd husband found out and she left him.

This book was inspired by their date at the Central Park Zoo.

Blanche ended the relationship when her health took a nose dive, believing she'd live if she repented. But she STILL made Brown her executor.

Brown wrote this book while they both counted her days.

And wrote THIS book to describe her life alone with Blanche gone.

[mvaljean525]

      (To Michael Strange)

You, the balancer upon star-beams, You, the height intoxicated, With forehead sparkled by star-dust As by strange pollen from Celestial flowers, — You, dancing rapt over infinite abysms, On a thread of light More subtile than the most subtile thought, — You having plucked from Hermes the Caduceus To serve as balancing rod In your aerial gyrations, In your prismy flashings On courses forbidden To the meek and obedient planets, — You, flinging yourself even from that thread of light Grasping only the winged rod And diving headlong into space Hearing the soft hiss of the twin serpents Urging you on, on, — You, enamoured of the inexpressible, In love with the unutterable, Frantic for the non-existent, You, the soul that slipped through God's fingers Before He could tame it, You pulsing with divine resentment That God should be one and you another, You heaven-sick for regions that no god has yet appropriated, Thirsting to gulp eternity at a draught And pour infinity into the cup of your thought, You that would shatter heaven like a crystal bowl Could you but grasp it in your little hands For the sheer delight of exploring what lies beyond it, You, a voice singing in the spatial wilderness of your own amazement, The winged lute of gods yet to be born, You are young, young, and I love you for it!

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The Sky Dancer

Amélie Rives  1863-1945

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Graphic - Charles Burns  (B.1955)

[violettesiren]

Tonight commences the city summer, A pedestaled labyrinth of yellow lights Tossing their shadows upon dark pavements. A mixed myriad of yearning music sounds, Addressed to later possibilities, And uneven voices All In the singular rhythm of passion. The night air is both light and heavy With laugh and desire, Both fresh and stale With changing comprehensions, Both wrong and right Through the contours of heritage. All the windows are wide And souls are touching the earth, Mingling their needs, suffering their pleasures, Digging their contempts— For tonight commences the city summer.

City Summer by Michael Strange

[tombstonetourism]

Author and actress Blanche Oelrichs, aka Michael Strange, second wife of John Barrymore and mother of Diana, Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx, NY.

[yourdailyqueer]

Blanche Oelrichs (Michael Strange) (deceased)

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

DOB: 1 October 1890  

RIP: 5 November 1950

Ethnicity: White

Occupation: Poet, playwright, actress, activist, socialite

Note: Used the name Michael Strange to publish her poetry in order to distance her society reputation from its sometimes erotic content

[oh-sewing-circle]

"During his 'glamorous fortnight' with Elsa and Dickie, Noël Coward absorbed the atmosphere of Venice and 'the strange decayed magic of old palaces rising out of green canals.' In the lesbian and bisexual circles where he was introduced by his patronesses, he made seversl new friends, including Muriel Draper, society hostess to the fashionable world, who counted among her friends in Paris Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, Natalie Barney, and Romaine Brooks. Another addition to Noël's address book was Blanche Barrymore, aka Michael Strange, bisexual wife of John Barrymore (from 1920 to 1925), and mother of the ill-fated actress Diana Barrymore."

-From Inventing Elsa Maxwell: How an Irrepressible Nobody Conquered High Society, Hollywood, the Press, and the World by Sam Staggs

[wellthatsclever]

One of the craziest stories about our government ive ever heard. RIP Michael Strange