Ruffiano del Presidente
BlondeRuffiano del Presidente is the President’s brother-in-law, a former actor whose connections and theatrical fluency place him between Marilyn Monroe and the public event that becomes one of the novel’s most charged performances. He brings her an invitation to sing at the President’s birthday fundraiser, then serves as its master of ceremonies. In those roles he appears at once as an intermediary with political access and as the polished manager of a spectacle in which Marilyn’s artistic hopes, financial vulnerability, and sexualized public image collide.
Identity and Introduction
The novel introduces him at Marilyn’s home, where she is lying on a plastic chaise beside a swimming pool she will not enter. The man who appears resembles President Kennedy so closely that the resemblance makes their connection physically legible before he speaks: he is the President’s brother-in-law. The narration presents him as a former actor, genial in some circles and contemptuously nicknamed Ruffiano del Presidente in others. His greeting makes the meeting sound like a familiar continuation, though the scene offers no account of what preceded it.
His arrival interrupts a moment of professional possibility. Marilyn has been reading Chekhov and has been offered the role of Masha in a New York production. One part of her hopes she is ready for tragedy; another warns that the attempt may end in failure. Her film successes already feel bitter to her. The contrast matters: she is contemplating serious stage work when a presidential emissary arrives to recruit her for a public appearance whose chief attraction will be her celebrity image.
The Invitation and Its Terms
Ruffiano del Presidente asks Marilyn to make him a drink. She prepares it badly, using the wrong glass and one with a chipped rim, while dressed casually and without makeup. In that private, unpolished setting, he tells her she has been invited to sing Happy Birthday at a reception for the President, to be held at Madison Square Garden in a few days. The fundraiser is for the Democratic Party and is expected to draw 15,000 paying guests and raise more than a million dollars for the November elections. He presents the occasion as an honor reserved for the President’s special friends and leading entertainers.
Marilyn is surprised and unsure whether the President still likes her. Ruffiano del Presidente assures her that everyone is delighted by her, including the First Lady, who, he says, loves her films. His reassurance is carefully tailored to her uncertainty, but the invitation does not resolve it: she remains suspicious that the group intends to exploit her. The scene thus lets political access arrive in the form of flattering assurances without making those assurances equivalent to personal intimacy or respect.
The invitation also carries a steep private cost. Marilyn calculates that a suitable dress will cost thousands of dollars and that travel to New York would breach her studio contract, leaving her responsible for the expenses. Ruffiano del Presidente kisses her hand and takes his leave with a promise of another meeting. She is told that the $5,000 dress and other costs will be reimbursed by the event’s organizers, and she proceeds on that assurance. His role therefore extends beyond conveying an invitation: he is the face of a promise on which her decision to undertake the trip depends.
Master of Ceremonies
At Madison Square Garden, Ruffiano del Presidente appears in a tuxedo as the event’s master of ceremonies. He works the crowd toward a crescendo of cheering, laughter, and applause for Marilyn, whose near-transparent dress, glittering with hundreds or perhaps thousands of rhinestones, makes her body part of the event’s advertised spectacle. The narration describes the crowd’s response in terms that blur admiration and insult. The ceremony’s glamour does not shield Marilyn from being reduced to a sexualized public image; it gives that reduction a stage, lights, and thousands of witnesses.
Marilyn is so intoxicated that she has to be pushed toward the stage. Her dress and high heels restrict her to uncertain little steps, and alcohol and cocaine leave her barely able to focus on the audience. Ruffiano del Presidente catches her arm to keep her from falling and supports her to the microphone. His physical assistance is practical, but it also makes him part of the machinery that gets her into position before the crowd. The assembled guests roar their approval, though the narrative leaves open whether the response is wholly admiring or partly mocking.
Performance and Narrative Significance
After Marilyn sings without an evident stumble, the audience rises, applauds, and chants her name. She reads their response, and the President’s applause, as proof that she has pleased them and that the journey was worthwhile despite her fever and fear. Ruffiano del Presidente then gently urges her off the stage. An assistant takes her away as she leans on a stranger, exhausted and visibly unwell. He has helped present her to the crowd and now helps conclude the appearance; the narrative gives him no private exchange with her afterward.
His brief but consequential part in the episode rests on this double function. As a former actor, he knows how to cue a room and direct attention; as the President’s brother-in-law, he can carry an invitation backed by political proximity. Yet he is neither shown as the author of Marilyn’s performance nor as a companion who shares its cost. The scene places his reassuring hospitality beside the transactional pressures of the event, and his polished stage management beside Marilyn’s physical collapse. Through him, access to power becomes an invitation to perform—and the promise of recognition remains inseparable from the spectacle that consumes it.