Avalon
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...that no one wants to publish. [huh] I'm a poet/writer and am trying VERY HARD to break into the business. Thought you folks might appreciate the subject matter. 
All feedback, positive or not so much, encouraged.
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TIRED HURT AND BEWILDERED: The Legacy of Clara Bow
©Jennifer Redmond 2008
The public called for a flapper. It was the jazz age and everyone wanted to be modern. Short hair and shorter attention spans - youth was king, and entertainment was paramount.
Cue the entrance of a red-haired beauty from Brooklyn, NY. 1905 brought Clara Bow into a world of neglect, abuse, mental illness and poverty. (The details of her life could be a movie in themselves - check out David Stenn's brilliant "Clara Bow: Runnin' Wild"). Her childhood was a cycle of fear and pain from which she longed to escape. Luckily, escape - in the form of the "flickers" - was a thriving commodity by then. She fled to them with every free moment (and hard-earned cent) she got, eventually shaping her own emotions to match the beautiful ones onscreen. Tears were so much lovelier when you were twelve feet tall.
The facts of her start in show biz have been well documented: she won a fan magazine photo contest and a bit part in 1922's "Beyond the Rainbow" which wound up cut from the film; 16-year-old Clara was truly discovered after her small role in "Down to the Sea in Ships". She was lauded for her natural portrayal of a tough, headstrong tomboy in a dreary, working-class town...a part she'd played her entire life.
Playing with the boys gave her a unique perspective: she had none of the inhibitions inherent in other girls her age. She fought, swore and didn't mind getting dirty. This didn't change as she grew into a stunning beauty - making her the perfect material for flapperdom.
Audiences went wild for the Brooklyn Bonfire. She was frenetic and adorable, steaming up the screen with unrestrained sexuality. Men loved her curves and her tousled hair. Women adored her carefree and fun-loving attitude.
Clara was the same off-screen. She enjoyed speeding around in her red convertible, gambling, and had her share of lovers. Kissing and telling was her specialty, often in colorful terms not meant for "proper" company. Little by little, the behavior the public worshipped her for became a reason to exclude her from dinner parties and star-studded gatherings.
As the Twenties roared on, so did her scandals: an affair with a married man, accusations of cheating at gambling, and a lurid court case where Clara’s own personal assistant spilled damaging secrets about her financial and personal activities. She froze on-set and would have crippling bouts of "mike fright". Producer B.P. Schulberg called her "Crisis-a-Day Clara" and Paramount edged her out of the spotlight.
From early on she exhibited traits common to people with schizophrenia - namely a complete lack of social mores - yet she was not diagnosed with the disease until 1949. Was it because no one ever noticed? Hardly. She was indulged and encouraged to act recklessly, to be the flaming "It Girl" every small-town Jane wished she could be. Didn't matter that Clara worked 16-hour days, only to suffer insomnia-filled nights; keep churning out the pictures, boys, jazz babies don't need sleep anyway.
It amazes me when folks today talk about the fascination with star breakdowns as if it were a new phenomenon, brought harshly to light with Britney or Anna Nicole...or even Marilyn. People talk a good game, lamenting over what could have been done to "save" them, but the sad truth is, the public is riveted by a train wreck. One generation's sexpot forgets her underwear, while eighty years earlier her predecessor shows up to a posh restaurant in a bathing-suit and heels. The story remains the same: in reaching out for someone to understand and help her, she is instead ridiculed - then abandoned for the next big thing. She is no longer a person and is simply a commodity.
Tears are so much lovelier when you are twelve feet tall.
(Note: the title is from a quote of Clara’s: "A sex symbol is a heavy load to carry when one is tired, hurt and bewildered.")
All feedback, positive or not so much, encouraged.-----------------------------
TIRED HURT AND BEWILDERED: The Legacy of Clara Bow
©Jennifer Redmond 2008
The public called for a flapper. It was the jazz age and everyone wanted to be modern. Short hair and shorter attention spans - youth was king, and entertainment was paramount.
Cue the entrance of a red-haired beauty from Brooklyn, NY. 1905 brought Clara Bow into a world of neglect, abuse, mental illness and poverty. (The details of her life could be a movie in themselves - check out David Stenn's brilliant "Clara Bow: Runnin' Wild"). Her childhood was a cycle of fear and pain from which she longed to escape. Luckily, escape - in the form of the "flickers" - was a thriving commodity by then. She fled to them with every free moment (and hard-earned cent) she got, eventually shaping her own emotions to match the beautiful ones onscreen. Tears were so much lovelier when you were twelve feet tall.
The facts of her start in show biz have been well documented: she won a fan magazine photo contest and a bit part in 1922's "Beyond the Rainbow" which wound up cut from the film; 16-year-old Clara was truly discovered after her small role in "Down to the Sea in Ships". She was lauded for her natural portrayal of a tough, headstrong tomboy in a dreary, working-class town...a part she'd played her entire life.
Playing with the boys gave her a unique perspective: she had none of the inhibitions inherent in other girls her age. She fought, swore and didn't mind getting dirty. This didn't change as she grew into a stunning beauty - making her the perfect material for flapperdom.
Audiences went wild for the Brooklyn Bonfire. She was frenetic and adorable, steaming up the screen with unrestrained sexuality. Men loved her curves and her tousled hair. Women adored her carefree and fun-loving attitude.
Clara was the same off-screen. She enjoyed speeding around in her red convertible, gambling, and had her share of lovers. Kissing and telling was her specialty, often in colorful terms not meant for "proper" company. Little by little, the behavior the public worshipped her for became a reason to exclude her from dinner parties and star-studded gatherings.
As the Twenties roared on, so did her scandals: an affair with a married man, accusations of cheating at gambling, and a lurid court case where Clara’s own personal assistant spilled damaging secrets about her financial and personal activities. She froze on-set and would have crippling bouts of "mike fright". Producer B.P. Schulberg called her "Crisis-a-Day Clara" and Paramount edged her out of the spotlight.
From early on she exhibited traits common to people with schizophrenia - namely a complete lack of social mores - yet she was not diagnosed with the disease until 1949. Was it because no one ever noticed? Hardly. She was indulged and encouraged to act recklessly, to be the flaming "It Girl" every small-town Jane wished she could be. Didn't matter that Clara worked 16-hour days, only to suffer insomnia-filled nights; keep churning out the pictures, boys, jazz babies don't need sleep anyway.
It amazes me when folks today talk about the fascination with star breakdowns as if it were a new phenomenon, brought harshly to light with Britney or Anna Nicole...or even Marilyn. People talk a good game, lamenting over what could have been done to "save" them, but the sad truth is, the public is riveted by a train wreck. One generation's sexpot forgets her underwear, while eighty years earlier her predecessor shows up to a posh restaurant in a bathing-suit and heels. The story remains the same: in reaching out for someone to understand and help her, she is instead ridiculed - then abandoned for the next big thing. She is no longer a person and is simply a commodity.
Tears are so much lovelier when you are twelve feet tall.
(Note: the title is from a quote of Clara’s: "A sex symbol is a heavy load to carry when one is tired, hurt and bewildered.")
