A smile, a figure, a flair

It’s hard to find an exciting biographical subject who has not been done and on whom sufficient unpublished papers and records exist (not to mention alluring photographs). By good fortune, persistence and enthusiasm, Miranda Seymour has done just that with Hélène Delangle.

Who she? Well, she was born in 1900 (her preferred date was 1905) as the cuckoo in the nest of a rural French postmaster and his wife. She had a smile to set a thousand Bugattis roaring, a figure to match and the zest and daring of a corps of cavalry. When Philippe de Rothschild, one of many lovers, first sighted her in a Parisian café he carefully unbuttoned the four tiny pearl buttons of her kid glove, lifted her hand to his mouth and delicately touched the exposed flesh with the tip of his tongue. She kept the gloves for the rest of her life.

She left home for Paris at 18. She never quite explained how she paid the bills and bought herself a car, but her activities included nude photographic modelling, cabaret work (including a memorable pose holding a white dove), dancing and a high- wire act. The latter she did without safety nets and after only two weeks’ practice. Her dancing included formal ballet training and, possibly, a fling with Maurice Chevalier.

She also managed to squeeze in mountaineering and skiing, until, at the age of 29, a knee injury finished her dancing career. Luckily, a natural flair for driving and a ferocious competitive spirit were to lead her into motor-racing. She already had good connections in that world, which was closely related in France to the acting fraternity, and in 1929 she entered and won the Actors’ Championship and the first Grand Prix for women.