The other night, as I was drifting off to sleep and, for some reason I can't explain, I thought to myself, "Wow. It is REALLY weird that Marilyn Monroe was married to both Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller." Now I don't claim to know much about any of them, but isn't this bizarre, if you think about it? Had she just married one of those men, I wouldn't think anything of it, but to compare the two of them, I can't help but feel someone in that whole situation was much more complex than one would expect.
I'm going to go with Joe. I bet Marilyn Monroe was exactly as you would expect her to be; sweet but clingy, lovely but damaged, kind but self-involved. Miller? He was a writer, for Pete's sake. Of Marilyn, he said, "She was a whirling light to me then, all paradox and enticing mystery, street-tough one moment, then lifted by a lyrical and poetic sensitivity that few retain past early adolescence." Thanks Wikipedia! So Miller loved the paradox and....ugh...all that mystery.
But Joe? I think he was the keeper. And who couldn't fall in love with a mug like that? I am hesitant to venture over to his Wikipedia page to find out if he found love after her. I'm just going to hope he did and call it a night.