- Donna L. Halper

According to Ancestry.com, Lillian Ellison, better known by her nom de wrestling, "the Fabulous Moolah", really does live on Moolah Drive in Columbia South Carolina.  That much is true, as is the fact that she is close to eighty and still wrestles.  But if you read this book with the hope of finding some insights into what makes her tick or why she has lasted so long, you will come away disappointed, as I did.

First, this book is not all bad-- I have seen some reviews that trash it, which I think is undeserved.  The illustrations alone are worth the price I paid to buy my copy-- especially the photos from the late 40s and early 50s, when she was "Slave Girl Moolah."  We are not told who took these pictures, but still, it was interesting to watch the development of her character as the years passed.  If Moolah has a scrap book, I'd love to see what other memorabilia she has saved from her long career: her amazing longevity is a testament to her ability to adapt to each new generation.  Another thing to keep in mind when reading this book:  it was written for a particular purpose, and in support of a particular point of view.  In other words, if you are expecting an exposé or hoping to gain entrance into the mysterious world of pro wrestlers, this is not the book for you.  As an "official", authorized publication, it received the full co-operation of the WWE and Vince McMahon; as those who have not been able to get that co-operation will tell you (for example, Shaun Assael and Mike Mooneyham's "Sex, Lies and Headlocks"), in exchange for permission to talk to Vince and all of his wrestlers, you are expected to tell the story the way Vince wants the story told.  So, it should not be surprising that Moolah's book holds faithfully to the WWF/WWE version of wrestling history, with nothing in it to criticise or even question the man who signs her paycheck.  It is thus more of a publicity piece for the "Moolah" character and a tribute to the WWE than it is an in-depth look at Moolah's life.   Still, some of her recollections about the old days are amusing, and whether Moolah really did know Jerry Lee Lewis or date Hank Williams Sr., she can tell a fascinating story.

The problem is that this book sheds very little light on who Moolah really is.  I don't mean deep hidden details of her broken marriages (which she alludes to, but seldom offers much that is specific) or scandal about which wrestlers did what (she is coy in saying that 'a certain wrestler' drank too much or was a womanizer, but she doesn't name names, obviously not wanting to cause a problem for people she might still have to work with).  I mean that when I read this book, I knew from page 1 that there was a character named Moolah speaking, and that she would tell her story as if every match was real and nothing in the story-lines was scripted.  I wanted to know how she managed to survive so many years and still remain champion-- as a "girl wrestler" in the late 40s, she had struggled to get credibility and ultimately was able to work her way up, despite being neither cute nor sexy. I don't say that unkindly:  lady wrestlers were the subject of much cultural ambivalence for years.  While in some cities, they were popular, there were states which barred them, and certain TV stations of the early 50s even refused to show their matches.  (I have an old New England TV Guide from 1951 lamenting why the lady wrestlers were taken off the air.)  

A strong, tough, athletic woman in those days was assumed to be a lesbian; although such things were not discussed, clearly Moolah was aware of that "butch" stereotype, which she dealt with by being "lady-like" outside the ring and advising the female wrestlers she trained to do likewise.  But none of this is discussed in her book-- she never addresses the changing stereotypes about women, nor how her character managed to adapt.  She repeatedly tells the reader that she refused to let men boss her around and that she was always ready to kick some butt, yet surely she was affected by society's changing attitude about a woman's proper role.  It would have been interesting to hear her opinion on the 50s archetype of the lady wrestler as Amazon versus the more recent stereotype of the lady wrestler as partially undressed sex symbol.  Instead, we get occasional comments about her likes and dislikes, usually with no analysis or reason-- for example, out of the blue, we are told she dislikes Bill Clinton because she feels he is immoral, a comment I found puzzling given that none of this book is about her particular political philosophy, and also given that this book is full of stories of un-named wrestlers who did not always behave in an exemplary way, yet she is quite forgiving of their antics. 

That inconsistency is really my biggest problem with this book-- other than occasional glimpses, we never are allowed to get too close to Lillian Ellision the person, as opposed to Moolah the character. We know she doesn't like people who smoke cigarettes, we know she doesn't like to go to the doctor unless she absolutely must.  But I would have expected more depth because the book is allegedly co-written by Larry Pratt, who, if it's the same guy I think it is, has written for some very respected magazines.  But Larry is like the Invisible Man:  he isn't thanked in the introduction nor mentioned in the credits nor can he be found as co-author on the dust jacket.  I am not sure how much involvement he had, and it is never clarified for us.  Other than his name appearing on the cover in *tiny* print, the impression we are given is that the story was written entirely by Lillian Ellison.  Trouble is, where Lillian begins and Moolah ends and where Larry is in any of this cannot be determined.

In some ways, this book is a story with a happy ending-- Moolah is able to continue her wrestling career even though she is in her 70s-- yet although we are promised in the dust jacket blurb that Moolah will "tell all", there is no insight into why a woman of her age wants to continue getting battered and bruised in the ring or how she manages to stay in good enough shape to do her job or why in an era when the WWE has turned to more suggestive and sexualized roles for women, Vince McMahon decided to bring her character back for a new generation.   She also doesn't dwell on her role as a villain-- she is the woman the crowd loves to hate, she tells a New York Times reporter in 1969 (New York Times, 17 March 1969, p. 52); she also tells him how much she loves wrestling and how she plans to do it for as many years as her body will allow.   Over the years, some of the details of her up-bringing or how she got the Moolah name may have changed as a result of endless re-tellings for endless interviewers,  but the basic story remains the same:  Moolah loves to wrestle, she loves to train wrestlers, and she has no regrets about anything.

Also, sometimes this book reads like a tribute to Vince McMahon, who is repeatedly described as a genius and a wonderful person.  Now, I have never met Vince (disclaimer:  I have been in media for a number of years and have met, and even interviewed, a few wrestlers, but I have never met Moolah nor talked with any of the McMahons), and he may indeed be both brilliant and wonderful, but somehow the uncritical devotion is contradicted by magazine and newspaper articles which offer an entirely different perspective on the McMahon empire and Vince's control of it.  The cynic in me says that his critics are right:  if you want his co-operation, you agree to say nice things about him.  But that is not necessarily a flaw in the book-- Vince (and his father before him) may very well have treated Moolah kindly.  The problem is that Moolah is quite willing to criticize certain other promoters, and a reader might wonder if those others are being defined as evil so that her current boss can be defined as good:  autobiography as wrestling metaphor, with heels and babyfaces in a battle to entertain the public.  In Moolah's version of the WWE, there are no steroids, people are treated fairly, and it's a great place to make a living.  In fact, she so much likes the WWE that she constantly refers to it, even when talking about her career in the 60s and 70s in the WWF-- this may be revisionist history, something wrestlers are famous for, or it may be careless editing, since there was no WWE in the 70s.

In the end, I am not sorry I read "The Fabulous Moolah:  First Goddess of the Squared Circle," and I commend her for outlasting many other wrestlers, both male and female.  If you go into this book with the proper attitude-- don't expect it to answer all your questions and don't expect it to tell you things you don't already know -- it has some enjoyable anecdotes and accurately portrays the Moolah character.  I just wish I could meet Lillian Ellison:  there is so much I would like to ask her.

Donna L. Halper is a former announcer, music director, and script-writer.  She is one of the editors of the Boston Radio Archives, and teaches at Emerson College in Boston.  A researcher, free-lance writer and radio consultant, she is also the author of "Invisible Stars:  A Social History of Women in American Broadcasting."

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