‘I’ve done a lot I’ve earned my rest’
Bette Midler on her showbiz memories, her life in songs and a new book
It’s never too late to learn something new. On the week of her 75th birthday in December, Bette Midler was sitting in the kitchen of her country house, located outside New York City, talking by Zoom with Parade about her latest discovery: the seasons. “I’d never seen them change before,” she says. “We’re normally in the city, which is all steel, glass and brick. But since the lockdown, we’ve been up here and went through spring, summer and autumn, three of the most extraordinary seasons.”
“Nature,” she says. “Who knew?”
The singer-actress’s late-in-life discovery of “every leaf, shrub and flower” at her home likely ranks behind the marriage of her daughter, Sophie von Haselberg, now 34, as one of the rare bright spots amid this bleak pandemic year quarantining with her husband, Martin von Haselberg, 72. But it’s one she’s eagerly stoking with her latest project, a children’s book she wrote to celebrate a real-life occurrence in the natural world. Her book, The Tale of the Mandarin Duck: A Modern Fable (Feb. 16), was inspired by the true story of a brilliantly colored, floridly feathered bird that arrived, out of nowhere, in New York City’s Central Park in 2018 and instantly became a tourist attraction and media sensation. “There was a gleam in its eye, a look of innocence, as if it were seeing something brand-new too,” Midler says. “And there was something humble about it, despite its fantastic colors. That really moved me.”
‘I can be my own person and do my own show. Once I got that idea, I never looked back.’
Of course, like all children’s books, Midler uses the storyline in hers to send a message. In The Tale of the Mandarin Duck, everyone who sees the creature does something miraculous by modern standards: They put down their phones and experience what’s right in front of their eyes. More, they interact with each other in physical space rather than through a glass screen.
Is it fair to conclude that Bette isn’t a fan of modern technology? “I’m tortured by it!” she says with a laugh. “If I do anything with social media, it takes me at least 20 minutes to recover. I had an event recently where you had to tape yourself, then upload it to Dropbox, and I cried. I had to have a gallon of alcohol.”
An Odd Duck
It’s clear Midler far prefers interacting with people in real time. She speaks chattily and openly about a career that includes four Golden Globes, three Grammys, three Emmys and a
Tony and has lasted for more than half a century—a duration that staggers her. “I’m old,” she says several times. “I don’t know where the time went.”
And yet, she embraces the inevitable result. “I’m a fogey. In fact, I celebrate my fogey-ness!” Such self-awareness has guided
Midler through a life and career that suggests she’s just as odd a duck as the one she wrote about in her book.
Growing up in ethnically diverse Hawaii, she never fit in. “I was the white girl, the only one for miles around,” she says.
Her family was poor: Midler’s father painted houses while her mother was a seamstress and homemaker. As a child, she didn’t have enough money to buy records, but her parents had two compilations that set her on a far different musical path than most young people in her generation. “They were all songs of the ’20s, ’30s and ’40s,” she says.
“That was my musical education. Those were the records that I sang along to until I wore out the grooves.”
She also was drawn to acting, studying it for a year at the University of Hawaii before dropping out. A very small part in the film Hawaii earned her enough money to move to New York in 1965. Soon after, she landed a key part in the hit Broadway musical Fiddler on the Roof. And although she spent three years in the production, afterward she couldn’t find another show, auditioning for many but never getting the job.
And then something exciting happened: Invited to an open-mike night at a cabaret, she sang the songs she loved. “It was the first time I had an out-of-body experience,” she says. “After that, I said, ‘I don’t have to wait for someone to tell me I got the job. I can be my own person and do my own show.’ Once I got that idea, I never looked back.”
The show Midler created made full use of old songs by everybody from the Andrews Sisters to Mabel Mercer. “I am an insane recycler,” she says. “In my home, you never wasted anything. You used it again. That’s basically what I do with my art—it’s collage.”
In that spirit, her debut album, The Divine Miss M (co-produced by Barry Manilow, whom she met during their time performing cabaret at the famous Continental Baths—a popular gay hangout in New York), married old songs and new. It became an instant smash, though it sounded nothing like what was on the charts in 1972. Oddly, its success struck her as inevitable. “I sort of took it for granted because I had such a fabulous response to my live show,” she says. “Those shows were completely over the top. The audiences acted like they found water in the desert.”
The success of her debut opened doors, including starring roles in hit movies such as The Rose (which resulted in a Best Actress Oscar nomination) and Beaches to top singles like “Wind Beneath My Wings” and “From a Distance.” And about two years ago, Midler enjoyed Broadway success by starring in a beloved revival of Hello, Dolly! (She won a Tony for her performance in the lead role.) Still, she says her proudest achievements are her one-woman shows. “That’s the time I was the happiest because I got to do it all,” she says. “I got to be funny, to play characters, to sing and wear fancy clothes, to slap on
makeup and wear silly wigs. And I was the boss. I didn’t have to be part of somebody else’s dream. I was doing my own dream.”
A Happy Old Fogey
It’s telling that when Midler speaks of her career these days, it’s in the past tense. “My time on the stage is basically up,” she says with a shrug. “I’m 75. I don’t have the impulse to prove myself anymore. I feel like ‘I did that.’ And I’ve done a lot. I’ve earned my rest. Am I going to make an announcement? No. I’m just going to fade away.”
She sounds happy to do so, especially given the new calm she has found in nature. While Midler fears the final stages of the pandemic, she remains optimistic about its aftermath and feels secure in her legacy. “I did the best I could to give people joy,” she says. “And I had a lot of fun myself. I overcame my circumstances, and I would like to help other people overcome theirs. I have high hopes for humanity.”