PEOPLE

BARBARA RIGHTON April 5 1982

PEOPLE

BARBARA RIGHTON April 5 1982

PEOPLE

As the birth date draws nearer, speculation over the name (or names) of the Prince and Princess of Wales’s first baby is growing in the U.K. Heavily tipped favorites—if it’s a boy— are George and David. George would honor England’s patron saint and King George VI. David would commemorate the patron saint of Wales and the late Duke of Windsor. Other likely bets: Philip, after Prince Philip, and Albert, the first name of King George VI, known in the Royal Family as Bertie. If the baby is a girl: Elizabeth, after the Queen and the Queen Mother, or Victoria or Alexandra. Complicating the name game even further, the Princess of Wales is expected to opt for at least one name of her own choice. For a boy, she may revive a medieval English name: Guy, Roland,

Godfrey or Arthur. On the other hand, friends of the royal couple are predicting Louis for a boy, Louise for a girl, in memory of Prince Charles’s beloved uncle,

Lord Louis Mountbatten.

Since royal babies are customarily given at least four names, the final decision—expected in June—could include any one of the above.

A lawyer knows better than anyone that there is nothing like a friend in court. And it is a safe bet that U.S. Attorney General William French Smith wishes he had been a bit friendlier to Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor nearly 30 years ago when she applied for a position at his Los Angeles law firm. Despite her top grades at Stanford University’s law school, O’Connor was having trouble finding work in the male-dominated legal profession. While Smith’s firm refused to hire O’Connor as a lawyer, it made her a counterproposal. “We did something no other law firm did,” notes the man whose current responsibilities include enforcing statutes against discrimination on the basis of sex. “We offered her a secretarial position.” O’Connor turned him down. The rest is history.

Move over, Liz and Dick. Here come Brooke and John-John. America’s 16-year-old sweetheart and J.F.K.’s son spent a day touring Brown University in Providence, R.I., last week, sparking rumors that Shields would attend the Ivy League campus next year when she

graduates from high school. Kennedy, who majors in American history at the college, already has his father’s reputation as a womanizer, but with Brooke on his arm, the handsome 21-year-old barely attracted a second glance. “She was so beautiful!” said a star-struck Carin Bauman, who ogled Shields when the couple stopped into the campus pizza parlor where she works. Bauman, who didn’t recognize Kennedy, had no qualms about asking, “ ‘How does it feel to be with Brooke Shields?’ He didn’t really say anything,” she reports.

London-based author Paul Theroux denies that he is as pessimistic as some of his fictional characters. But his sense of doom was reinforced when he returned to his native America recently

to promote his latest novel, The Mosquito Coast. “I was near Three Mile Island,” says Theroux, “and it is absolutely terrifying what has happened there. I honestly believe the end of the world won’t be war, but some blunder.” Sounding suspiciously like the main character in his acclaimed book, Theroux predicts that “we will see a massive nuclear meltdown that will destroy a vast part of this hemisphere” within the next 50 years. But, unlike Coast’s family—which moves to Honduras to avoid the impending holocaust in America—Theroux is content to stay in Britain deriving “a little peace of mind” from churning out black comedies.

If it’s Tuesday it must be Manhattan—or so thought Margaret Atwood last week as she autographed copies of her latest novel, Bodily Harm (which has just been released in the United States), at a West Side bookstore. On week three of a six-week American pro-

motional tour, the weary writer signed book after book, looking puzzled when one loyal reader said, “I usually don’t come out Tuesday nights.” Why not? inquired Atwood. “I’m a Flamingo Road fan,” he explained seriously. It was one example of her drawing power. Earlier that day, she sat for Vogue photographers, who were shooting her for a special Canadian issue in June. The night before, Atwood attracted American authors Tom Wolfe, E. L. Doctorow and Ann Beattie (whom she had never met) to a publishing party in her honor at a soigné Upper East Side townhouse. What did Atwood and Beattie say to each other over quenelles? “We each said we liked one another’s work and then we talked about dresses,” Atwood reported with uncustomary coyness.

His friends report that Bob Dylan has

been born again—again. Dylan (née Robert Zimmerman) has rediscovered his Judaic roots after a fling with fundamentalism. The 1960s king of protest music— formerly a celebrated agnostic—renewed his Judaic beliefs in the 1970s and then switched to Christianity, confirm¡2 ing his new religion 1 with baptism in singer £ Pat Boone’s pool. Such I radical shifts have cost £ him much of his fol§ lowing. Recent evangelios cal recordings (Slow Train Coming, Saved) and a number of tours were failures in comparison with past ventures. And now a spokesperson from Dylan’s office reports, “My interpretation is that the New Testament and Jesus were a message he thought he got, but that he was still testing.” For his part, Dylan ducked an invitation to present the National Music Publishers Association’s gospel song of the year award last week. His office explained: “He won’t have time. He has to be in California for his son’s bar mitzvah.”

While officials in Argentina vacillate over whether or not to allow the killing of 48,000 penguins to manufacture food protein and gloves, Toronto animal trainer Bill Valliere plans to “stop the slaughter before it starts” by mobilizing his forces quickly. “It is no good to stand over a carcass on an ice floe and argue,” says Valliere. Last week he gathered thousands of signatures at the city’s Sportsmen’s Show, and actor Peter O’Toole and Wings singer Linda McCartney earlier said that he could add their names to the petition. “We are also trying to get Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus to sign—they might be expected to wear the gloves,” says Valliere. Penguin Books Canada Ltd. is willing to donate books to raise money for the fine-feathered cause, but the reaction from Valliere’s other high-profile target—the NHL’s Pittsburgh Penguins—was anything but encouraging. “Right now we’re only interested in winning hockey games,” says team spokesman Terry Schiffhauer.

%/l anitoba Attorney General Roland J-TAPenner says he is puzzled. “Why the hell they’re bothering with it now

escapes me,” he sighs. Penner was reacting to a controversy touched off by a

front-page article in the Winnipeg Free Press last week detailing his former Communist party affiliation. Apparently the U.S. state department has never crossed Penner’s name off its list of undesirable aliens, even though he renounced his party membership more than 20 years ago. In theory, Penner is barred from entering the United States without a waiver, but the 57-year-old lawyer has not had any difficulty when travelling to New York and he seems more bored than angered by all the fuss. “The Free Press seems to run a quarterly report on this,” he says. Penner

has no plans to approach the U.S. consulate general in Winnipeg to have his name removed from the pink list: “I’ll cross that bridge, ah, boundary, when I come to it.” And as for the Free Press: “I think it’s just trying to fill in the space between the ads.” "W"

I ennifer Dale has lucked into two O uncommon show-business luxuries. First, she landed a lead in one of the most lavish TV mini-series ever produced in this country, Empire, Inc. And, because the location shooting is in Montreal, she is enjoying the stability of working out of the home she shares with her husband, Robert Lantos, and their 15-month-old son, Ariel. Another bonus for the Toronto-born actress is that many of the French crew members on the CBC, Radio-Canada and National Film Board production are people she remembers from her film Suzanne. “I feel like I am working with my second family,” says Dale. The romantic drama, which follows the escapades of a scheming industrial tycoon (Kenneth Welsh) from the Depression to 1960, features Dale as his hardheaded, wilful and adoring daughter. If that sounds like a close match for Fallon on ABC-TV’s popular Dynasty, Dale does not object. But “it’s not so much of a soap opera,” she says. “It’s more of a cross between Dallas and Brideshead Revisited."

EDITED BY BARBARA RIGHTON