Screamin' Jay Hawkins: He'll Put a Spell on You

Because you're mine ...

I.

Never a favourite with the NAACP, Screamin' Jay Hawkins played with black racial stereotypes and white racial fears just as he experimented with music and performance, producing a unique sound and look that would later influence shock rockers from Arthur Brown and Alice Cooper to Marilyn Manson.

The above - and many others - were inspired by his mock-satanism and penchant for macabre stage accessories (including smoking skulls, rubber snakes, and shrunken heads).  

II.

A former champion boxer and Korean war veteran, Hawkins decided to try his luck as a rhythm and blues singer. After an 18 month spell fronting a band, he left to develop a solo career. His big moment came in 1955, when he recorded an astounding - and drunken - version of his composition entitled I Put a Spell On You, for a black music label owned by Columbia Records. 

The grunts, groans and screams that Hawkins added to what was otherwise a fairly standard pop ballard were deemed to be so disturbing that the record was immediately banned from the radio. Nevertheless, it was a huge hit, selling more than a million copies and secured Hawkins a place in the rock 'n' roll hall of fame. 

It also ensured he would be typecast as a performer, whose talents as a singer, songwriter and musician, became increasingly irrelevant; people wanted the outrageously dressed madman with a bone through his nose, taking to the stage in a satin-lined coffin and giving his best impression of the voodoo priest Baron Samedi.*    

As much as his grotesque persona delighted and amused white audiences - not only in the US, but also in the UK and France - it deeply offended many African Americans. Hawkins, however, was unapologetic, explaining that he was simply an entertainer looking to make a few dollars; not a role model, spokesman for the black community, or a civil rights activist.    

Although he had a number of other hit songs - including Constipation Blues (1969); a track about real pain, not merely heartbreak and loneliness - his star was well and truly beginning to fade by the 1970s, although he continued to work up until his death, aged 70, in February 2000, appearing, for example, alongside Joe Strummer in the 1989 cult movie Mystery Train (dir. Jim Jarmusch).  

Since his death, I Put a Spell on You has continued to be covered by a wide variety of artists, most of whom treat the song very seriously; very few have been brave (or foolish) enough to attempt to replicate - or better - the unique performance given by Hawkins himself ...**

Notes

* Hawkins did sometimes express his unhappiness with this; in a 1973 interview, for example, he bemoaned the fact that whilst James Brown did an awful lot of screaming, he wasn't given the name of Screamin' James Brown and nobody expected him to play the fool or questioned the sincerity of his performance. I'm not overly sympathetic with Hawkins, however, who voluntarily sold his soul to the devil.  

** Artists who have covered this song include Nina Simone, Bryan Ferry, Marilyn Manson, and even Bonnie Tyler.

Play: Screamin' Jay Hawkins, I Put a Spell On You, (Okeh Records, 1956): click here. 

And for a live TV performance of the song, click here. 

When Jayne Met Sophia

Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield at Romanoff's (Beverley Hills) 

Photo by Joe Shere (April 1957)

Paramount had organized a party for me. All of cinema was there, it was incredible. And then in comes Jayne Mansfield, the last one to arrive. She came right for my table. She knew everyone was watching as she sat down. I’m staring at her nipples because I am afraid they are about to come onto my plate. In my face you can see the fear. I’m so frightened that everything in her dress is going to blow—BOOM!—and spill all over the table. 

 - Sophia Loren speaking in 2014 to Entertainment Weekly

The famous photo of Italian beauty Sophia Loren checking out all-American bombshell Jayne Mansfield with a sideways glance full of snooty disapproval mixed with anger at being upstaged by the blonder, bustier woman at a Hollywood dinner party held in her honour, tells us something interesting about European notions of sex appeal, femininity and decorum in contrast to those of the New World.

But, in a sense, these two women belong not merely to different cultures, but to entirely different worlds, different times. Loren, so elegant and sophisticated, suddenly seems the product of a traditional era of slow-cooking and spaghetti. Mansfield, on the other hand, in all her spectacular obscenity, is a hypermodern incarnation of sex and speed; she lived fast and died young, whilst Sophia simply grew old.

Both left their distinctive mark on cinematic history; indeed, in 1999 Loren was awarded legendary status by the American Film Institute and she is currently the only living actress on the list. But it's Mansfield whose star continues to shine the brightest within the popular and pornographic imagination and who seems so much more our contemporary.

Indeed, one can imagine going for a drink with the always smiling former beauty queen, nude art model and popcorn seller from Pennsylvania with an IQ of 163 and an hourglass figure that measured 40-21-35 and having a really fun time. But sadly, not so with Sophia: in fact, I suspect she would subject me to the same kind of withering look over the dinner table as she gave to Miss Mansfield's dangerous bosom.        

Notes

Those interested in reading Sophia Loren's full recollection of this incident in Entertainment Weekly (Nov 3, 2014), click here. 

Those interested in a sister post to this one - When Jayne Met Anton LaVey - should click here.

When Jayne Met Anton

Mansfield and LaVey performing a Satanic ritual
Photo by Walter Fischer (1966/67)

The bizarre relationship between blonde bombshell Jayne Mansfield and bald-headed Satanist Anton LaVey was not, as some journalists liked to insist, a match made in Hell; it was, rather, a match made in Hollywood. For only in California during the sixties could such a queer romance blossom between a fame-obsessed actress whose star, sadly, was on the wane and a publicity-seeking occultist eager to attract new followers.    

Mansfield and LaVey met for the first time while she was on a drug-and-drink fuelled visit to the San Francisco Film Festival in 1966. According to some accounts, Mansfield formerly requested a meeting with LaVey; but other witnesses insist she simply showed up on his doorstep, uninvited, having been evicted from the festival by the organisers for lowering the tone of the event by wearing a revealing pink dress sans underwear.

Whatever the facts, after this initial encounter she and LaVey continued to correspond and to meet right up until Mansfield's untimely but spectacular death in the summer of the following year. This oddest of odd couples had found in each other a kindred spirit and they developed an intense and intimate relationship that set tongues wagging with excitement and heads shaking in disapproval.

And, on hand to document their relationship, was a German photographer, Walter Fischer, who had emigrated to the States ten years ealier with nothing but a 60-year-old pet parrot on his shoulder and a desire to make a name for himself as a paparazzo.

How Fischer managed to end up as the go-to guy whenever Mansfield and LaVey wanted their picture snapped, I don't know. But he was the one responsible for a fascinating series of images taken at Anton's creepy sanctuary in San Francisco known as the Black House and Jayne's lavish home in Los Angeles - complete with a heart-shaped pool - known as the Pink Palace.

Fischer was also first on the scene whenever the couple dined out in public, as seen here, for example, outside La Scala (Beverley Hills), accompanied by Sam Brody, Mansfield's divorce lawyer and official boyfriend at the time (despite the fact he was married):       

Brody was overly-protective of Mansfield and acutely jealous of LaVey, whom he mocked as a charlatan at every opportunity; something that would have fatal consequences - both for himself and Mansfield - after LaVey placed an irrevocable curse upon his head, telling him he would die a violent death within the year.

Was Jayne Mansfield, then, a practicing occultist and a devotee of the Prince of Darkness? The answer is ... probably not.

For whilst LaVey liked to tell everyone that Mansfield was a priestess in his Church of Satan, she herself confessed to being a good Catholic girl at heart. Despite this, after her death on June 29th, 1967 - killed in a car crash alongside the accursed Sam Brody - LaVey rather sweetly (or cynically, if you think he played a diabolical role in the tragic events of that day) conducted a dark memorial service.

Swedish writer, Carl Abrahamsson, provides a fitting comment with which to close: 

"As the truth [...] about their complex and ever-fascinating relationship will never be fully known, perhaps we should just be content with joyfully taking part in these larger-than-life space-time intersections and the individual legacies of these two true American icons."

See: California Infernal: Anton LaVey and Jayne Mansfield as Portrayed by Walter Fischer, with an introduction by Kenneth Anger and forewords by Carl Abrahamsson and Alf Wahlgren, (Trapart Books, 2017). 

And see also the entertaining documentary Mansfield 66/67, dir. P. David Ebersole and Todd Hughes (2017): click here to watch the trailer on Youtube. 

To read a sister post to this one - When Jayne Met Sophia Loren - please click here. 

Roethke and the Bat Boy (A Post on American Poetry and Popular Culture)

And when he appears upon a TV screen,

We're afraid of what our eyes have seen.

The highly-regarded American poet, Theodore Roethke, grew up surrounded by natural beauty subject to German discipline in a giant greenhouse. The perfect conditions in which a sensitive young boy's Romanticism might flourish ...

However, as Camille Paglia points out, there was always something queer about Roethke's lyricism; his "portraits of nature are often eerie or unsettling", particularly when he attempted to connect the world of the greenhouse to his own (often profoundly disturbed) inner experience.

Perhaps this explains why the last lines of his poem 'The Bat' have been haunting me for days: 

For something is amiss or out of place

When mice with wings can wear a human face.

Either that, or they caused me to reflect once more upon the terrifying case of the Bat Boy, discovered living in Hellhole Cave, West Virginia, by Dr Ron Dillon, as reported in the pages of the Weekly World News back in the summer of 1992, and now established as an iconic figure within the popular imagination ...

See: 

Camille Paglia, Break, Blow, Burn (Vintage Books, 2006), p. 146. 

Theodore Roethke, The Collected Poems, (Faber and Faber, 1968).

To read 'The Bat', please visit the Poetry and Literature page of the US Library of Congress: click here.