"Shadowland" is interesting, maybe even fascinating, and it's an easy read. Despite telling a quite sad story, Arnold has written "Shadowland" in a rather breezy style with very short chapters. For readability and interest, I'd give William Arnold's book about Frances Farmer more stars, but several details in the book have sparked controversy and charges that they're false. I don't know the truth of the matter. No one seems to. I don't think there has been anything written about Frances Farmer that hasn't been criticized as at least part fiction, including a memoir that she wrote, unfinished at the time of her death and published post posthumously and doctored by a close companion. It's disconcerting.
Frances Farmer (1913-1970) grew up in West Seattle, maybe about five or six miles from where I live. She's no longer remembered in Seattle or in almost any place else. But she was once famous. In the '30s and 40s, Hollywood's Golden Era, she was thought to be the next Garbo, Cecil B. de Mille praised her, Howard Hawkes said she was the most gifted actress he had ever worked with. She made movies with Bing Crosby, Tyrone Power, Cary Grant and other big movies stars who ARE remembered. In the 90s, Kurt Cobain, another sad Seattle story, put her on the cover of one of his CD's with the byline "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge on Seattle." It's the fifth song on the album. He named his daughter after her.
So what happened to Frances Farmer? As alluded to earlier, no seems to have nailed down the facts. William Arnold attempts to tell her story in this book published in 1978. Arnold was a long-time movie critic for the "Seattle Post-Intelligencer," a print newspaper no longer published (but still has a small on-line presence). I read his reviews regularly; he was one of my favorite movie reviewers. So I give his book more credit than some do. Some basic biography seems to be agreed upon.
Frances was an intelligent but not very popular student. When at West Seattle High School, she won a national writing contest for her essay, "God Dies," resulting from a disappointment about unanswered prayers. For her first prize she received $100, a big award at the time. While at the University of Washington, in the midst of the labor/communist movement in Seattle and down the west coast, Frances won a trip to Russia by selling the most subscriptions to a communist magazine. It seemed she had help from others who sold in her name. At any rate, the prize was a trip to Russia. Her mother, a fervent anti-communist, forbid her to go. Frances went anyway and came back deeply moved by the poverty she saw there. Seattle was not impressed.
Frances' great ambition was to be on the legitimate stage. Hollywood was only a way to get some fame and some money so that she could make it in New York. In both places Frances had some real success but also disasters. It is during this era that the various biographies of Frances get lambasted. She was addicted to drugs? She was an alcoholic? She was mentally unstable? All of those things seem to be true to varying degrees. She was stubborn, uncooperative, truculent, her own worst enemy, and very insecure despite her looks and her talent. Those things seem to be true.
She was involuntarily committed to Western State Hospital for the mentally ill (insane). She underwent various kinds of treatments there, some seem to have been inhumane, to put it mildly. Conditions appalling. Arnold suggests but does not assert that she may have had a lobotomy. This has been voraciously attacked, mostly by one Jeffrey Kauffman, who has his own ax to grind. Any resident of Washington state has heard horror tales about Western State. At least some seem to have been true, although a psychiatrist friend of mine took great issue with the way Arnold portrays mental health treatment in this book. Her family was not supportive and, in fact, probably contributed to Frances' instability.
She died in Indiana of cancer of the esophagus. Her last years seem to have be relatively tranquil and happy. Her sister, with whom she was never close, as well as several others have tried to put their spin on Frances' life. Jessica Lange stared in a movie about her based in great part on Arnold's book. When Arnold wrote his book in 1978, he was surprised to find that the house Frances grew up was still standing. I drove over to the address. It's still there. Moss on the roof, gutters falling off, soffits rotting, and so on. There it stands (well sort of) in a solidly middle-class neighborhood, an eye sore amidst well kept lawns. Not much of a revenge.