The Bluebird of Happiness

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD.

Henceforth, these book reports will be a time-saving device. You need not read entire books anymore. Read these condensed versions instead. You'll have that much more time for your own blog.

Today I Read "The Bluebird of Happiness The Memoirs of Jan Peerce" by Alan Levy, published in 1976.

Peerce was a famous opera singer for the Metropolitan Opera. His childhood name was Jacob Pincus ("Pinky") Perelmuth. No wonder someone changed his name.

Born in June, 1904 on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, he began violin lessons at an early age, but in his teens, switched to singing, at which he was equally if not more talented. He was an Orthodox Jew throughout his life; not surprisingly, his parents expected him to become a doctor. He toured as a singer instead, and eloped to boot. When informed of the courtship, both sets of parents were forgiving.

The young couple moved to the Catskills in 1929, where Peerce often performed. As a singer, I mean. It was there he recommended a singing teacher for the teenage Roberta Peterman (later aka opera singer Roberta Peters). Life was tough for the Peerces, as Jan and Alice were on a shoestring budget. She threatened to leave him and take their baby with her if he didn't stop his compulsive post-show midnight poker-playing with his showbiz pals. There was also a rumor brought to Alice's attention that Jan was having an affair. But that rumor turned out to be false.

Erno Rapee, a musical arranger (I don't know why his name wasn't changed) decided to have a song written for Peerce, called "The Bluebird of Happiness". The song was a hit from the moment it was introduced in 1936.

In 1938, Peerce, then a Wagnerian tenor, ironically enough, was discovered by Arturo Toscanini. His career soared after that. He did radio shows, but was still going on cross-country tours through the early years of the War. His wife Alice was his manager.

Yet, after having only two children, the Upper West Side was becoming too expensive, so they moved to New Rochelle. Their second child, a daughter, had expensive medical problems.

Nevertheless, like most people, their lives improved over the years, but Peerce was only human. He disowned his son for several years, for marrying outside the faith. His son, Larry, became a famous Hollywood director anyway. Yeah, go look him up on the imdb.

From 1974 to 1975, Peerce broke his femur, developed a peptic ulcer, had an embolism, and eventually suffered from cataracts in both eyes.

He lived to be interviewed for the book, fortunately. Actually, he died in 1984. He might have lived longer if he hadn't smoked two packs a day in his early years. (This is true.)

I recommend this book for older opera fans. It may provide some sweet reminiscences.