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Available
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Publication
Grove Press (2013), Edition: Main, 304 pages
Description
Newly discharged from the Marines after World War II, Scotty Bowers arrived in Hollywood in 1946. Young, charismatic, and strikingly handsome, he quickly caught the eye of many of the town's stars and starlets. He began sleeping with some himself, and connecting others with his coterie of young, attractive, and sexually free-spirited friends. His own lovers included Edith Piaf, Spencer Tracy, Vivien Leigh, Cary Grant, and the abdicated King of England Edward VIII, and he arranged tricks or otherwise crossed paths with Tennessee Williams, Charles Laughton, Vincent Price, Katharine Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Errol Flynn, Gloria Swanson, Noël Coward, Mae West, James Dean, Rock Hudson and J. Edgar Hoover, to name but a few.Full Service is not only a fascinating chronicle of Hollywood's sexual underground, but also exposes the hypocrisy of the major studios, who used actors to propagate a myth of a conformist, sexually innocent America, knowing full well that their stars' personal lives differed dramatically from this family-friendly mold. As revelation-filled as Hollywood Babylon, Full Service provides a lost chapter in the history of the sexual revolution and is a testament to a man who provided sex, support, and affection to countless people.… (more)
User reviews
LibraryThing member write-review
Mr. Sex, Procurer to the Stars, Tells All, Explicitly
Scotty Bowers passed away in October 2019, but in 2012 he teamed up with documentary film producer and director Lionel Friedberg to recount his life in Hollywood as procurer of sexual partners for some of the biggest names in entertainment from
During this time, Hollywood still operated under the studio system. Studios exercised control over the lives of their contracted performers and the times were decidedly conservative, especially when it came to sex. Extra marital affairs, general philandering, and in particular and especially homosexual sex, were verboten. Studios were very good at keeping the secret sex lives of their stars under wraps. Just witness the surprise in the Eighties when Rock Hudson revealed that he was dying of AIDS and was gay.
However, people within the community knew of the sexual shenanigans. And then there was Scotty Bowers, who, if you take his revealing memoir at face value, knew them all; not only knew them, but arranged for them on behalf of such stars and personalities as Walter Pidgeon, Cole Porter, George Cukor, Randolph Scott, Cary Grant, Kate Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Errol Flynn, Vincent Price, Spencer Tracy, Vivien Leigh, Somerset Maugham, Noel Coward, Desi Arnaz, Mae West, Tyrone Power, Charles Laughton, Rock Hudson … well leave it at the list is very, very long. Scotty not only procured partners for these stars, he also participated in the sexual activities himself. And these were as varied as your imagination can conjure, from straight sex, to gay sex, to a variety of somewhat unusual and some highly unusual fetishes. Naming none here; if any of this interests you, though, pick up a copy of the book.
So, who was Scotty Bowers and how did he become the go-to guy in Hollywood, so much so that among many he was known as “Mr. Sex”? He was born George Bowers in 1923 in Ottawa, IL, a farming community near Chicago. He ended up in Los Angeles as a result of WWII, where he served as a Paramarine (disbanded during the war), seeing action during the Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima invasions. He witnessed considerable destruction and death around him during the war and learned of his own brother Donald’s death participating in the Iwo Jima fighting while engaged in the battle himself. Blessed with s strong constitution and a very strong sex drive, he decided that upon mustering out he would live life to the fullest. Also, he was no stranger to sex, having had an introduction at the hands of his uncle and later priests when his family moved to Chicago. Looking for a job and something of a jack at all trades, he landed a gig at the Richfield gas station at 5777 Hollywood Blvd. (now a fire station) and soon he found himself in the sex business. Unbeknownst to his employer, the gas station become a hub for hooking up, or even having sex on the premises, as there was a large house trailer in the back with two separate bedrooms. In a repressive culture with stars who wished to be themselves, at least in private, word spread and Scotty had his hands full, literally, day and night.
This may sound a bit familiar because the gas station features prominently in Ryan Murphy’s and Ian Brennan’s Hollywood, the miniseries, now streaming on Netflix. It’s portrayal doesn’t even scratch the surface of Scotty’s activities. For that, you’ll have to read the book. It’s a real eyebrow raising read, too, even if you think yourself pretty sexually liberal and knowledgeable. You’ll find things here you never dreamed up, guaranteed.
A memoir such as this, lacking as it does source citations, footnotes, even an index, and that relies on the memory of one man who was 88 at the time of the writing, well, it raises questions about veracity. Did this happen as Scotty claims and remembers? Did he know all of these famous people and did they confide their most personal secrets in him? Did he have as much and as varied a sex life as he represents? And did he make all of these arrangements asking for no payment, simply, as he says often, because he wanted to help people achieve happiness? Quite a few people in the know, including Gore Vidal and magazine writers and editors, think so. However, even if Scotty only did half of what he claims and heard about the other half, his life would still be a jaw dropper.
See of yourself, if tell-alls interest you. A word of caution, though: Scotty can be rather explicit, and some things really are cringeworthy. Intrigued? Have at it.
Scotty Bowers passed away in October 2019, but in 2012 he teamed up with documentary film producer and director Lionel Friedberg to recount his life in Hollywood as procurer of sexual partners for some of the biggest names in entertainment from
Show More
just after the end of World War II straight through the Eighties and Nineties. The concentration here, though, focuses on the biggest names of film in the late Forties and Fifties.During this time, Hollywood still operated under the studio system. Studios exercised control over the lives of their contracted performers and the times were decidedly conservative, especially when it came to sex. Extra marital affairs, general philandering, and in particular and especially homosexual sex, were verboten. Studios were very good at keeping the secret sex lives of their stars under wraps. Just witness the surprise in the Eighties when Rock Hudson revealed that he was dying of AIDS and was gay.
However, people within the community knew of the sexual shenanigans. And then there was Scotty Bowers, who, if you take his revealing memoir at face value, knew them all; not only knew them, but arranged for them on behalf of such stars and personalities as Walter Pidgeon, Cole Porter, George Cukor, Randolph Scott, Cary Grant, Kate Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Errol Flynn, Vincent Price, Spencer Tracy, Vivien Leigh, Somerset Maugham, Noel Coward, Desi Arnaz, Mae West, Tyrone Power, Charles Laughton, Rock Hudson … well leave it at the list is very, very long. Scotty not only procured partners for these stars, he also participated in the sexual activities himself. And these were as varied as your imagination can conjure, from straight sex, to gay sex, to a variety of somewhat unusual and some highly unusual fetishes. Naming none here; if any of this interests you, though, pick up a copy of the book.
So, who was Scotty Bowers and how did he become the go-to guy in Hollywood, so much so that among many he was known as “Mr. Sex”? He was born George Bowers in 1923 in Ottawa, IL, a farming community near Chicago. He ended up in Los Angeles as a result of WWII, where he served as a Paramarine (disbanded during the war), seeing action during the Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima invasions. He witnessed considerable destruction and death around him during the war and learned of his own brother Donald’s death participating in the Iwo Jima fighting while engaged in the battle himself. Blessed with s strong constitution and a very strong sex drive, he decided that upon mustering out he would live life to the fullest. Also, he was no stranger to sex, having had an introduction at the hands of his uncle and later priests when his family moved to Chicago. Looking for a job and something of a jack at all trades, he landed a gig at the Richfield gas station at 5777 Hollywood Blvd. (now a fire station) and soon he found himself in the sex business. Unbeknownst to his employer, the gas station become a hub for hooking up, or even having sex on the premises, as there was a large house trailer in the back with two separate bedrooms. In a repressive culture with stars who wished to be themselves, at least in private, word spread and Scotty had his hands full, literally, day and night.
This may sound a bit familiar because the gas station features prominently in Ryan Murphy’s and Ian Brennan’s Hollywood, the miniseries, now streaming on Netflix. It’s portrayal doesn’t even scratch the surface of Scotty’s activities. For that, you’ll have to read the book. It’s a real eyebrow raising read, too, even if you think yourself pretty sexually liberal and knowledgeable. You’ll find things here you never dreamed up, guaranteed.
A memoir such as this, lacking as it does source citations, footnotes, even an index, and that relies on the memory of one man who was 88 at the time of the writing, well, it raises questions about veracity. Did this happen as Scotty claims and remembers? Did he know all of these famous people and did they confide their most personal secrets in him? Did he have as much and as varied a sex life as he represents? And did he make all of these arrangements asking for no payment, simply, as he says often, because he wanted to help people achieve happiness? Quite a few people in the know, including Gore Vidal and magazine writers and editors, think so. However, even if Scotty only did half of what he claims and heard about the other half, his life would still be a jaw dropper.
See of yourself, if tell-alls interest you. A word of caution, though: Scotty can be rather explicit, and some things really are cringeworthy. Intrigued? Have at it.
Show Less
LibraryThing member Lemeritus
What to say about this self-serving memoir? Well... I finished it. And I owe an apology to every well-known name dropped within its prurient pages (with the possible exception of J. Edgar Hoover.) If he's to be believed, Bowers ran a unique "service" from the 50s well into the early new century for
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which he was not paid, arrested, or infected by any happenstance STD. And there you have it. Show Less
LibraryThing member PallanDavid
This is a non-pornographic romp through the sexual exploits of the people of Hollywood through the eyes of a man who claims to have set up tricks for the well known of the time, mid-40's through the '70's. Not to mention his own romps with the stars of the time.
It is fun and if half of what this
It is a fun read!
It is fun and if half of what this
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guy said he did is true, he has lived one heck of a life!It is a fun read!
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LibraryThing member satyridae
So poorly written it's hard to believe. Not that I expected fine literature, going in, mind you. I expected garbage with a side of Katherine Hepburn gossip. What I got was just... icky. Bowers is so smarmily self-congratulatory it's sickening, and such a bad writer it's jaw-dropping. Way, way worse
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than I expected, and I didn't expect much. Show Less
LibraryThing member write-review
Mr. Sex, Procurer to the Stars, Tells All, Explicitly
Scotty Bowers passed away in October 2019, but in 2012 he teamed up with documentary film producer and director Lionel Friedberg to recount his life in Hollywood as procurer of sexual partners for some of the biggest names in entertainment from
During this time, Hollywood still operated under the studio system. Studios exercised control over the lives of their contracted performers and the times were decidedly conservative, especially when it came to sex. Extra marital affairs, general philandering, and in particular and especially homosexual sex, were verboten. Studios were very good at keeping the secret sex lives of their stars under wraps. Just witness the surprise in the Eighties when Rock Hudson revealed that he was dying of AIDS and was gay.
However, people within the community knew of the sexual shenanigans. And then there was Scotty Bowers, who, if you take his revealing memoir at face value, knew them all; not only knew them, but arranged for them on behalf of such stars and personalities as Walter Pidgeon, Cole Porter, George Cukor, Randolph Scott, Cary Grant, Kate Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Errol Flynn, Vincent Price, Spencer Tracy, Vivien Leigh, Somerset Maugham, Noel Coward, Desi Arnaz, Mae West, Tyrone Power, Charles Laughton, Rock Hudson … well leave it at the list is very, very long. Scotty not only procured partners for these stars, he also participated in the sexual activities himself. And these were as varied as your imagination can conjure, from straight sex, to gay sex, to a variety of somewhat unusual and some highly unusual fetishes. Naming none here; if any of this interests you, though, pick up a copy of the book.
So, who was Scotty Bowers and how did he become the go-to guy in Hollywood, so much so that among many he was known as “Mr. Sex”? He was born George Bowers in 1923 in Ottawa, IL, a farming community near Chicago. He ended up in Los Angeles as a result of WWII, where he served as a Paramarine (disbanded during the war), seeing action during the Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima invasions. He witnessed considerable destruction and death around him during the war and learned of his own brother Donald’s death participating in the Iwo Jima fighting while engaged in the battle himself. Blessed with s strong constitution and a very strong sex drive, he decided that upon mustering out he would live life to the fullest. Also, he was no stranger to sex, having had an introduction at the hands of his uncle and later priests when his family moved to Chicago. Looking for a job and something of a jack at all trades, he landed a gig at the Richfield gas station at 5777 Hollywood Blvd. (now a fire station) and soon he found himself in the sex business. Unbeknownst to his employer, the gas station become a hub for hooking up, or even having sex on the premises, as there was a large house trailer in the back with two separate bedrooms. In a repressive culture with stars who wished to be themselves, at least in private, word spread and Scotty had his hands full, literally, day and night.
This may sound a bit familiar because the gas station features prominently in Ryan Murphy’s and Ian Brennan’s Hollywood, the miniseries, now streaming on Netflix. It’s portrayal doesn’t even scratch the surface of Scotty’s activities. For that, you’ll have to read the book. It’s a real eyebrow raising read, too, even if you think yourself pretty sexually liberal and knowledgeable. You’ll find things here you never dreamed up, guaranteed.
A memoir such as this, lacking as it does source citations, footnotes, even an index, and that relies on the memory of one man who was 88 at the time of the writing, well, it raises questions about veracity. Did this happen as Scotty claims and remembers? Did he know all of these famous people and did they confide their most personal secrets in him? Did he have as much and as varied a sex life as he represents? And did he make all of these arrangements asking for no payment, simply, as he says often, because he wanted to help people achieve happiness? Quite a few people in the know, including Gore Vidal and magazine writers and editors, think so. However, even if Scotty only did half of what he claims and heard about the other half, his life would still be a jaw dropper.
See of yourself, if tell-alls interest you. A word of caution, though: Scotty can be rather explicit, and some things really are cringeworthy. Intrigued? Have at it.
Scotty Bowers passed away in October 2019, but in 2012 he teamed up with documentary film producer and director Lionel Friedberg to recount his life in Hollywood as procurer of sexual partners for some of the biggest names in entertainment from
Show More
just after the end of World War II straight through the Eighties and Nineties. The concentration here, though, focuses on the biggest names of film in the late Forties and Fifties.During this time, Hollywood still operated under the studio system. Studios exercised control over the lives of their contracted performers and the times were decidedly conservative, especially when it came to sex. Extra marital affairs, general philandering, and in particular and especially homosexual sex, were verboten. Studios were very good at keeping the secret sex lives of their stars under wraps. Just witness the surprise in the Eighties when Rock Hudson revealed that he was dying of AIDS and was gay.
However, people within the community knew of the sexual shenanigans. And then there was Scotty Bowers, who, if you take his revealing memoir at face value, knew them all; not only knew them, but arranged for them on behalf of such stars and personalities as Walter Pidgeon, Cole Porter, George Cukor, Randolph Scott, Cary Grant, Kate Hepburn, Rita Hayworth, Errol Flynn, Vincent Price, Spencer Tracy, Vivien Leigh, Somerset Maugham, Noel Coward, Desi Arnaz, Mae West, Tyrone Power, Charles Laughton, Rock Hudson … well leave it at the list is very, very long. Scotty not only procured partners for these stars, he also participated in the sexual activities himself. And these were as varied as your imagination can conjure, from straight sex, to gay sex, to a variety of somewhat unusual and some highly unusual fetishes. Naming none here; if any of this interests you, though, pick up a copy of the book.
So, who was Scotty Bowers and how did he become the go-to guy in Hollywood, so much so that among many he was known as “Mr. Sex”? He was born George Bowers in 1923 in Ottawa, IL, a farming community near Chicago. He ended up in Los Angeles as a result of WWII, where he served as a Paramarine (disbanded during the war), seeing action during the Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima invasions. He witnessed considerable destruction and death around him during the war and learned of his own brother Donald’s death participating in the Iwo Jima fighting while engaged in the battle himself. Blessed with s strong constitution and a very strong sex drive, he decided that upon mustering out he would live life to the fullest. Also, he was no stranger to sex, having had an introduction at the hands of his uncle and later priests when his family moved to Chicago. Looking for a job and something of a jack at all trades, he landed a gig at the Richfield gas station at 5777 Hollywood Blvd. (now a fire station) and soon he found himself in the sex business. Unbeknownst to his employer, the gas station become a hub for hooking up, or even having sex on the premises, as there was a large house trailer in the back with two separate bedrooms. In a repressive culture with stars who wished to be themselves, at least in private, word spread and Scotty had his hands full, literally, day and night.
This may sound a bit familiar because the gas station features prominently in Ryan Murphy’s and Ian Brennan’s Hollywood, the miniseries, now streaming on Netflix. It’s portrayal doesn’t even scratch the surface of Scotty’s activities. For that, you’ll have to read the book. It’s a real eyebrow raising read, too, even if you think yourself pretty sexually liberal and knowledgeable. You’ll find things here you never dreamed up, guaranteed.
A memoir such as this, lacking as it does source citations, footnotes, even an index, and that relies on the memory of one man who was 88 at the time of the writing, well, it raises questions about veracity. Did this happen as Scotty claims and remembers? Did he know all of these famous people and did they confide their most personal secrets in him? Did he have as much and as varied a sex life as he represents? And did he make all of these arrangements asking for no payment, simply, as he says often, because he wanted to help people achieve happiness? Quite a few people in the know, including Gore Vidal and magazine writers and editors, think so. However, even if Scotty only did half of what he claims and heard about the other half, his life would still be a jaw dropper.
See of yourself, if tell-alls interest you. A word of caution, though: Scotty can be rather explicit, and some things really are cringeworthy. Intrigued? Have at it.
Show Less
Language
Original language
English
Original publication date
2012-01-29
Physical description
7.8 inches
ISBN
1611855802 / 9781611855807