Sinclair Lewis Warns Writers About Bad Temper

1937

Writers Warned Against Ill Temper By Sinclair Lewis

New London, Conn., June 1 (UP).— Sinclair Lewis thinks it's a sign of bad temper when a writer, having become dissatisfied with a paragraph, tears it off the top of his typewriter.

"When I don't like what I've started to write," said Lewis, "I unroll the entire sheet and put in a fresh one.

"I don't think it's good practice to tear a partly written sheet out of a typewriter, it's a sign of bad temper. When you write you are your own master. A display of temper means you are quarreling with yourself — quarreling with your master. It isn't good to do that."

The novelist, touring New England by motor, recalled his first writing job on a Midwestern newspaper.

"I was fired from that job," he grinned, "but not until my boss was prepared to announce that my successor was already on a train heading for town."

—The Syracuse Herald, Syracuse, NY, June 1, 1937, page 19.

Jeanette MacDonald, Nelson Eddy, in "Maytime" (1937)

1937

The ad for the film is from The Ogden Standard-Examiner, Ogden City, Utah, May 9, 1937, page 13-B.

If you click it, it comes up bigger.

My review (2007):

I just got this movie on VHS tape at Goodwill a few days ago. I'm usually real reluctant to buy any more VHS tapes, but it seemed like a good thing to do in this case, for once. And I'm glad I did, because for the most part I liked the film.

I read a blurb about it somewhere on the internet, in which the writer said it was originally meant to be in color. But one of the main promoters died and the head of the studio, Louis B. Mayer, cut the budget in half and so it ended up in black and white. That is the worst thing about the film. There are so many flowers, so many beautiful scenes that are just crying out for color. Not to mention the beautiful female star, Jeanette MacDonald. And you simply know there is no artistic reason, no pressing need for this movie to be in black and white. A lot of movies, that's exactly OK, the way it should be. Casablanca, something like that. But not this one; it's a crying shame.

OK, the biggest complaint out of the way for now. The film is set up to be a tragedy from the start. Marsha Mornay is living in a small town under a different name, Morrison, and has not told her story to anyone. As Mornay she is extremely famous, a world known opera singer. But something has happened to change all that, and today it happens to be May Day, and she's a little down in the mouth, to say the least.

I won't step through the entire story, but she helps a young lady who has a choice of going to New York to pursue a singing career or staying here and making a life with her boyfriend. "Let me tell you my story, child," she says, or words to that effect. And with that we dissolve into flashback mode for most of the rest of the movie.

It's the 1800s, France, and Marsha Mornay is the toast of the world. Lots of great opera scenes and songs abound through this section. Also in France is Paul Allison, played by Nelson Eddy. We have a lot of different customs in the romance stuff than we're used to today. But Marsha makes a commitment to her not-so-evil manager, played by John Barrymore, that she will marry him, so she will. And mostly she feels she owes him because of all he's done for her. He has her solidly under his thumb, but she goes out to clear her head and ends up in a little nightspot where Paul is singing with the drunken common folk. All this is very nice. He presses to see her again and again, and she reluctantly gives in.

I must cut to their one big day of love. They're in the country somewhere. They've been to a big May Day festival. Then they're alone, the two of them, for some serious love. It would be beautiful in color. They sing the overall theme song to each other, known as "Sweetheart, Sweetheart, Sweetheart," and it's all very glorious. They have one big kiss (and a smaller one), she remembers her commitment to her increasingly-evil manager, so she must leave. They will marry. They do marry.

The years pass, and there's some excellent dissolving images marking this. The movie does a lot of quirky, oddball, novelty camera work, which I like.

The big climax is coming, in which, by a fluke of fate, they will perform together in New York, Paul and Marsha. Naturally when they express their emotions on stage in one another's arms, to them it's all real. And the folks think they're just good actors. So they get good reviews. But her now entirely-evil manager, and husband (you have to give him that, we are rooting for adultery), also notices the sparks between them. As to what happens next, you can probably guess. But, hey, they'll always have that day in May...

Then, back in the present day, back in the small town, the full tragedy plays out to the bitter end, which becomes a sweet ending for all concerned.

The flowers for the film must have cost a fortune, because they definitely have them everywhere. And what a shame that it wasn't in color. (Shaking fist at Louis B. Mayer).

'Crash Of Death' Stunt Driver In Hair-Raising Performance

Ogden, Utah, 1937

STUNTER FLIPS AUTO ON BACK

'Crash Of Death' Performed Before Small Crowd At Stadium

Before a small and shivering crowd of spectators, Jerry Edwards, 32-year-old Detroit stunt driver, presented his hair-raising "crash of death" performance Saturday night in the Ogden stadium.

"This is one of the smallest crowds I've ever showed before," Edwards told the onlookers through a loud-speaking system. "But I have to work just as hard for you as I do when I perform before 20,000 people, as I have often done."

PRECEDES CAMPAIGN

Edwards was brought here under the auspices of the junior chamber of commerce as the forerunner of a county-wide safety week campaign sponsored by a citizens' safety council, comprising Ogden service clubs.

The climax to the show, in which Edwards used two stock light sedans, came when the dare-devil sped his crimson machine up a wooden platform, crashing full somersault and bottoms-up again on the sodded field.

NO SERIOUS HURTS

During the four years Edwards has been presenting his death-defying stunts, he has never suffered serious injury, although he has been put out of "commission" temporarily and unable to finish his show.

"The best thing to do when you have a flat tire is to step on the gas — not the brakes," Edwards told the crowd.

He said one of the best precautions against accidents is to keep both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

—The Ogden Standard-Examiner, Ogden City, Utah, May 9, 1937, page 10A.

Buxom Mae West Gives Trial Deposition

1937

Buxom Mae Gives Trial Deposition

LOS ANGELES, Calif., May 8.—(AP)—Buxom Mae West, colorfully attired in a typical Hollywood outfit of lounging-pajamas, gave a deposition today preliminary to trial of the suit of Frank Wallace, who claims she is his wife.

Miss West gave the deposition behind closed doors in the office of A. M. Blount, counsel for Wallace.

She was dressed in blue lounging pajamas, blue silk sandals, white hat and carried a white handbag.