Shirley Temple knew she was a rarity: a child megastar who later lived a happy, fulfilled adult life. As she told her biographer Anne Edwards—author of the highly entertaining Shirley Temple: American Princess—“I think people are surprised I did not become ‘Baby Jane.’”
Throughout her long life (1928-2014), Temple would boast many accomplishments. She was America’s top box office draw in the 1930s, the youngest person ever to receive an Oscar (albeit a noncompetitive one), a mother of three, a delegate to the United Nations, a candidate for California’s 11th Congressional District, an environmental activist, the first female chief of protocol of the U.S. (an officer overseeing the diplomatic corps), and a two-time ambassador. She was also, in the words of one observer quoted by Edwards, “smart as paint, tough-minded, and highly professional, with the devilish charm of a cunning Lucifer-child asking to stay up till nine.”
Sparkle, Shirley, Sparkle
Shirley’s mother, Gertrude—grand, imposing, and business savvy—decided to capitalize on her daughter’s perfect pitch and dancing ability when she was still a toddler. “I was allowed to be a baby for about two years,” Temple recalled, per Edwards. “So I had a couple of years as a lazy baby. I thought every child worked, because I was born into it.”
Working right alongside her was Gertrude, who served as her acting coach and fierce protector. “When Shirley was in bed, Gertrude would read any lines she had to say the next day. Shirley would repeat them ‘word for word five or six times,’” Edwards writes. “She might say, ‘You’re supposed to feel very happy when you say this line, Presh’…or ‘You’re supposed to be eating a thick sandwich while you’re saying these lines,’ and Shirley would practice this bit of action.”
Her mother was also right off camera as Temple shot her scenes, calling out, “sparkle, Shirley, sparkle,” before the camera rolled. Gertrude and her husband, George, a banker, made sure Shirley was cloistered from other child actors. She also ensured that any young thespians who might upstage her daughter had their parts substantially cut. These imperious actions won her few friends in Hollywood. But actor Slim Summerville was one of the few who dared to openly slight Gertrude, when he quipped, “so you’re the goose that laid the golden egg.”
Baby Genius
With a tested IQ of 155, Temple was a remarkably quick learner. “Tap dancer Bill Robinson…taught her a soft-shoe number, a waltz clog, and three tap routines. She learned them without looking at him, by listening to his feet,” Time magazine marveled in a 1936 cover story. This precociousness meant that with the exception of Gertrude, Shirley was virtually unafraid of adults (she called studio executive Darryl Zanuck “Uncle Pipsqueak”) and happy to correct them. Frequent costar Robert Young recalled to Edwards one incident on the set of the 1934 film Carolina, when Temple dared cue the legendary actor Lionel Barrymore:
I was standing behind Shirley…and Lionel (who was on drugs, painkillers and things—’cause he was in a great deal of intense pain) got stuck, couldn’t remember his lines. Shirley, in that sweet, wonderful, innocent naivete of a child, told Mr. Barrymore what his line was—‘Mr. Barrymore, you’re supposed to say so-and-so here’—having no idea of what impact that would have on him. Well, he let out a roar like a singed cat, and people came running. I grabbed her by the arm, because I thought surely if he ever got his hands on her, he’d crush her head or choke her to death.
