Just how much was she the mistress of desire, and how much a mere meat puppet?

We’ve stared at her photos for so many decades, looked into those eyes and perceived so many countless life-affirming fantasies. We’ve assigned to her superhuman attributes on the basis of a consistently and profoundly confidant photographic demeanor. Given the brutal facts of her post-pinup life, we’re left to wonder whether we can still sustain the precious illusion…

It takes very little introspection to arrive at one of the primary reasons for Bettie Page’s appeal. Her image, as silently projected through thousands of photos (and even a few hundred yards of film), creates a personal illusion for each and every one of us. The mystery is almost sacred. We have no idea who she is, yet each of us feels as though she’s a personal friend. We are convinced her smile is genuine. We are assured that her grimace is a put-on.

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