Hugh Grant Ordeal: The Person vs. the Image

British actor Hugh Grant needs our sympathy far more than our censure for his Sunset Boulevard soiree with a street corner business woman (“Hollywood’s Talking About Grant’s Big Adventure,” Calendar, June 29). His arrest recalls a story told to me by the legendary reporter Adela Rogers St. John about Clark Gable, who was known during his bachelor days to frequent an exclusive brothel in the Hollywood Hills.

“Clark, I asked him, why would the most handsome star in the world, with women throwing themselves at your feet, pay for sex?” Adela recounted. “Clark replied that if he made a date with a woman, and took her out for dinner, dancing and romance, she expected him to be Clark Gable. It was just too difficult for him, too much pressure, and he didn’t want to disappoint them. So he paid his money, didn’t have to be charming like Rhett with Scarlett, and a half hour later he’d drive home for a good night’s sleep.”

Poor Hugh Grant. He’s not Clark Gable, obviously, and not burdened with having to live up to a rep as a world-class lover. But he, too, should be forgiven if he feels he has to pay for some temporary companionship in his BMW. After all, without cinematographers to make him look adorable and screenwriters to feed him witty, sexy lines, he’s probably just another guy.

AL RAMRUS

Pacific Palisades

I take it the next funeral Hugh Grant attends will be his own. What a picture-perfect illustration of the old adage that brain and looks don’t usually go together.

MARYSIA MEYLAN

Santa Monica