Oscar-winning actress Joan Fontaine died Sunday, her longtime friend Noel Beutel said Monday. She was 96. Fontaine died "very peacefully" in her sleep of natural causes, Beutel said. She was in her Carmel, California, home. She is survived by her older sister, actress Olivia de Havilland -- with whom she had not spoken for decades. Fontaine was born Joan de Beauvoir de Havilland in 1916 in Tokyo, Japan, where her British father was a patent lawyer and teacher. She and her sister moved to Saratoga, California, with their mother in 1919 when her parents separated. Fontaine was a teenager when she began her acting career as Joan Burfield in the 1935 film "No More Ladies." She later adopted the stage name Fontaine -- the name of her mother's second husband. She wrote in her 1978 autobiography, "No Bed of Roses," that her mother, who was an actress, began encouraging the rivalry with her older sister at an early age. The feud extended to their careers when both sisters were nominated for best actress Oscars in 1942. Fontaine, who was nominated for Alfred Hitchcock's "Suspicion," beat her sister Olivia de Havilland, who was nominated for "Hold Back the Dawn." De Havilland won the first of her two Oscars in 1947 when she was given the best actress award for "To Each His Own." De Havilland and Fontaine remain the only sisters who have best-actress Academy Awards. The long-standing feud with de Havilland was at such a peak during one Oscar winners' reunion in 1979 that they had to be seated on opposite ends of the stage. "I was shocked and saddened to learn of the passing of my sister, Joan Fontaine ... and I appreciate the many kind expressions of sympathy that we have received," a statement released by Olivia de Havilland to CNN said. 

In what year did her acting career begin?


Tim had always a red bike. His birthday party was coming up and he hoped that his parents would finally get him the bike. When his friends came over for the party, Tim was very worried that he wouldn't get the bike. He looked at all the presents and none of them seemed big enough to have a bike in them. Tim was sad. When it was time to open the presents he opened them one at a time. The first present was not a bike. The second present was not a bike. The third present was the biggest one. Tim knew if the bike was going to be in any of the presents it was going to be in this box. Tim opened it and there was no bike inside. Just as Tim tried not to look too upset, his Dad brought in the biggest present of them all. His Dad had been hiding the present all along. Tim opened it and his new bike was inside the box. Tim put the bike together with his Dad's help. 

Why was Tim sad?


Search "Emiliano Malaquez" and you'll find he's a master of the "captured moment" school of sculpture. Even The Terran Times has only praise for his work. To compare his pieces to those of others is to compare mannequins to living models. He accents the illusion of reality --I paraphrase his entry in La Enciclopedia Humanica --by doing life-size scenes in "The full round," never the easier frontal or three-quarters view. Moreover, he never did portraits of famous people; his works were therefore the reality and could never be compared to it. As is typical of his school, his pieces are sealed in stopboxes. The shimmer of light on their surfaces always reminds us that we're looking at an instant snatched from under the hooves of time. They say the cubes will outlast planets and suns, that when the universe dies, the works of Malaquez and his followers will be the last things seen in the final wink of God's eye. Yes, Self, I am also bothered that this observation ignores half-eaten cheese sandwiches, incomplete insect collections, and locks of infants' hair, forgotten in closets, basements, and warehouses. You see the inspiration for my latest play, "Captured Moments." The mindwipe will take its creation from my future self --but time too often does that without aid. The play's second act concludes with the last fight between Tasha and me. I have disguised us in the play, and deleted one brief melodramatic interchange. Now I will mention it, in case I/You decide to restore it. Shortly before she left, Tasha said, "You steal from life for art, Bernardo. You'll impoverish yourself." I only snarled at her and -- My story leaps ahead of itself. Let me retreat and retrench: One night during N'apulco's mild winter, Tasha returned to The Flamingo, saying, "Nardo! Nardo! Guess what?" 


What do Tasha and Bernardo fight about?