And then we shall rest... we shall rest.
"Frances was a rebel when it wasn't fashionable - a free-thinking woman of the '30s and '40s whose outspoken nature, shocking language and anti-social behavior landed her in jails and mental institutions."
I became interested in Frances Farmer because of Jessica's brilliant portrayal of Frances in the movie "Frances". I love the lady. I love her sarcasm, I love her anti-social behavior. It's sad what they did to her. She rebelled against Hollywood and wouldn't have it their way and they silenced her. Simple as that. Here's an essay titled "God Dies", which she wrote at 16.
God Dies!
"No one ever came to me and said, "You're a fool. There isn't such a thing as God. Somebody's been stuffing you." It wasn't murder. I think God just died of old age. And, when I realized that he wasn't any more, it didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right!
Maybe it was because I was never properly impressed with a religion. I went to Sunday School and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn't believe them. The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.
Religion was too vague. God was different. He was something real, something I could feel. But there were only certain times when I could feel it. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I'd had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger-nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God. "I am clean, now. I've never been as clean. I'll never be cleaner." And somehow, it was God. I wasn't sure that it was ..... just something cool and dark and clean.
That wasn't religion, though. There was too much of the physical about it. I couldn't get that same feeling during the day, with my hands in dirty dish water and the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the roof tops. And after a time, even at night, the feeling of God didn't last. I began to wonder what the minister meant when he said, "God, the father, sees even the smallest sparrow fall. He watches over all his children." That jumbled it all up for me. But I was sure of one thing. If God were a father, with children, that cleanliness I had been feeling wasn't God. So at night, when I went to bed, I would think, "I am clean. I am sleepy." And then I went to sleep. It didn't keep me from enjoying the cleaness any less. I just knew that God wasn't there. He was a man on a throne in Heaven, so he was easy to forget.
Sometimes I found he was useful to remember; especially when I lost things that were important. After slamming through the house, panicky and breathless from searching, I could stop in the middle of a room and shut my eyes. "Please God, let me find my red hat with the blue trimmings." It usually worked. God became a superfather that couldn't spank me. But if I wanted a thing badly enough, he arranged it.
That satisfied me until I began to figure that if God loved all his children equally, why did he bother about my red hat and let other people lose their fathers and mothers for always? I began to see that he didn't have much to do about hats or people dying or anything. They happened whether he wanted them to or not, and he stayed in Heaven and pretended not to notice. I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was ..... nothingness.
I felt rather proud to think that I had found the truth myself, without help from anyone. It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn't they see it? It still puzzles me."
Some more quotes straight from the lady's lips. Please do read them, some of those are downright hilarious:
"It was pretty sad, because for the first time I found how stupid people could be. It sort of made me feel alone in the world. The more people pointed at me in scorn the more stubborn I got and when they began calling me the Bad Girl of West Seattle High, I tried to live up to it." - On reaction to her high school essay "God Dies"
***
"The other day a man phoned and wanted me to endorse a certain brand of cigarettes. I had nothing against them and in fact will smoke them or anything else that comes along, but I didn't know why he was bothering me. I thought maybe if I was nice they'd give me a carton as a thank offering, so I rather tentatively broached the matter of remuneration. What was the endorsement worth, I asked, and he said three thousand dollars. What are you going to do in an atmosphere like that?"
***
Miss Farmer spent a quiet night in her cell, drank cup of jail coffee which she eyed with distinct disdain and asked: "Well, where are the instruments? When are you going to start the torture? I thought you would brand me with a hot iron."
***
On October 19, 1942 she was arrested for drunken driving in Santa Monica. Farmer apparently got into a heated exchange with an officer before being dragged off to prison. Before being arrested again for parole violation Farmer had dislocated a hairdresser's jaw, got into a late night brawl at a bar, and streaked topless through Sunset Strip. She signed "Cocksucker" as her occupation at the Hollywood police station.
At her trial for parole violation Farmer screamed at the media assembled calling them "Rats", then addressed the Judge about her alleged drinking problem, "Listen, I put liquor in my milk. I put liquor in my coffee and in my orange juice. What do you want me to do starve to death? I drink everything I can get, including Benzedrine." When the judge sentenced her to a half a year in prison she screamed "Fine" than proceeded to nail the Judge with an ink pot. She was denied the right to make a phone call leaving the courtroom. Enraged, she started throwing down at her surrounding police officers. She was manhandled out of the room, straitjacketed, and plopped in her cell.
***
Brought before Police Judge Marshall Hickson today, Miss Farmer was in a defiant mood. He asked her if she had reported to her probation officer.
"No" she replied, "he didn't come around and see me."
The judge asked if she was in a fight Tuesday night at the Knickerbocker hotel.
"Yes" she said, "I was fighting for my country as well as myself."
"Have you driven a car since you were put on probation?" she was asked.
"No, I haven't" she snapped back. "But only because I couldn't get my hands on one."
The judge attempted to query her again as to the extent of her drinking.
"Listen" she said, her voice rising, "I put liquor in my milk, I put liquor in my coffee and in my orange juice. What do you want me to do, starve to death?"
Judge Hickson rose from his chair and shouted out the 180 day sentence.
"Fine" Miss Farmer shouted back at him.
The she walked quietly to a room outside the courtroom and asked to use the telephone. When she was denied this request, she swung at the police matron. Two policemen hurried to aid the matron and in the struggle one was knocked down.
The policemen took off Miss Farmer's shoes to soften her kicks. Finally, she was carried to a cell in a straitjacket. She continued to scream and kick.
***
"Since you appeared in this court October 24," Judge Hickson asked, "have you had anything to drink?"
"Yes," she shouted, "I drank everything I could get, including benzedrine."
"You were advised," the judge declared, "that if you took one drink of liquor or failed to be a law-abiding citizen ..."
"What," she interrupted, "do you expect me to do? I get liquor in my orange juice - in my coffee, must I starve to death to obey your laws?"
He asked her if she had been in a fight at a Hollywood hotel Tuesday night.
"Yes," she reported, "I was fighting for my country and for myself."
Had she, the judge asked, reported to the probation officer, as directed?
"No," she replied, "I never saw him. Why didn’t he show up?"
"Did you expect him to look you up?"
"I expected him to be around so I could get a look at his face."
The judge was leaving the bench, after sentencing her, when she shouted:
"I haven’t any lawyer. What I want to know is do I have any civil rights?"
The judge kept on walking.
***
Miss Farmer had started serving a six-month sentence for violation of probation, imposed in a drunk driving case. She resisted arrest and had to be taken forcibly from a Hollywood hotel to jail. The warrant for her latest arrest was issued on the complaint of a movie studio hairdresser that she was knocked down by the irate actress.
Dr. Leonard stated in a report to Judge Dudley S. Valentine that he asked Miss Farmer if she struck the hairdresser and received this answer:
"It's none of your fucking business. Besides, the question is insulting, irrelevant and impudent."
***
"If a person is treated like a patient, they are apt to act like one."
***
“Never console yourself into believing that the terror has passed, for it looms as large and evil today as it did in the despicable era of Bedlam.”
I became interested in Frances Farmer because of Jessica's brilliant portrayal of Frances in the movie "Frances". I love the lady. I love her sarcasm, I love her anti-social behavior. It's sad what they did to her. She rebelled against Hollywood and wouldn't have it their way and they silenced her. Simple as that. Here's an essay titled "God Dies", which she wrote at 16.
God Dies!
"No one ever came to me and said, "You're a fool. There isn't such a thing as God. Somebody's been stuffing you." It wasn't murder. I think God just died of old age. And, when I realized that he wasn't any more, it didn't shock me. It seemed natural and right!
Maybe it was because I was never properly impressed with a religion. I went to Sunday School and liked the stories about Christ and the Christmas star. They were beautiful. They made you warm and happy to think about. But I didn't believe them. The Sunday School teacher talked too much in the way our grade school teacher used to when she told us about George Washington. Pleasant, pretty stories, but not true.
Religion was too vague. God was different. He was something real, something I could feel. But there were only certain times when I could feel it. I used to lie between cool, clean sheets at night after I'd had a bath, after I had washed my hair and scrubbed my knuckles and finger-nails and teeth. Then I could lie quite still in the dark with my face to the window with the trees in it, and talk to God. "I am clean, now. I've never been as clean. I'll never be cleaner." And somehow, it was God. I wasn't sure that it was ..... just something cool and dark and clean.
That wasn't religion, though. There was too much of the physical about it. I couldn't get that same feeling during the day, with my hands in dirty dish water and the hard sun showing up the dirtiness on the roof tops. And after a time, even at night, the feeling of God didn't last. I began to wonder what the minister meant when he said, "God, the father, sees even the smallest sparrow fall. He watches over all his children." That jumbled it all up for me. But I was sure of one thing. If God were a father, with children, that cleanliness I had been feeling wasn't God. So at night, when I went to bed, I would think, "I am clean. I am sleepy." And then I went to sleep. It didn't keep me from enjoying the cleaness any less. I just knew that God wasn't there. He was a man on a throne in Heaven, so he was easy to forget.
Sometimes I found he was useful to remember; especially when I lost things that were important. After slamming through the house, panicky and breathless from searching, I could stop in the middle of a room and shut my eyes. "Please God, let me find my red hat with the blue trimmings." It usually worked. God became a superfather that couldn't spank me. But if I wanted a thing badly enough, he arranged it.
That satisfied me until I began to figure that if God loved all his children equally, why did he bother about my red hat and let other people lose their fathers and mothers for always? I began to see that he didn't have much to do about hats or people dying or anything. They happened whether he wanted them to or not, and he stayed in Heaven and pretended not to notice. I wondered a little why God was such a useless thing. It seemed a waste of time to have him. After that he became less and less, until he was ..... nothingness.
I felt rather proud to think that I had found the truth myself, without help from anyone. It puzzled me that other people hadn't found out, too. God was gone. We were younger. We had reached past him. Why couldn't they see it? It still puzzles me."
Some more quotes straight from the lady's lips. Please do read them, some of those are downright hilarious:
"It was pretty sad, because for the first time I found how stupid people could be. It sort of made me feel alone in the world. The more people pointed at me in scorn the more stubborn I got and when they began calling me the Bad Girl of West Seattle High, I tried to live up to it." - On reaction to her high school essay "God Dies"
***
"The other day a man phoned and wanted me to endorse a certain brand of cigarettes. I had nothing against them and in fact will smoke them or anything else that comes along, but I didn't know why he was bothering me. I thought maybe if I was nice they'd give me a carton as a thank offering, so I rather tentatively broached the matter of remuneration. What was the endorsement worth, I asked, and he said three thousand dollars. What are you going to do in an atmosphere like that?"
***
Miss Farmer spent a quiet night in her cell, drank cup of jail coffee which she eyed with distinct disdain and asked: "Well, where are the instruments? When are you going to start the torture? I thought you would brand me with a hot iron."
***
On October 19, 1942 she was arrested for drunken driving in Santa Monica. Farmer apparently got into a heated exchange with an officer before being dragged off to prison. Before being arrested again for parole violation Farmer had dislocated a hairdresser's jaw, got into a late night brawl at a bar, and streaked topless through Sunset Strip. She signed "Cocksucker" as her occupation at the Hollywood police station.
At her trial for parole violation Farmer screamed at the media assembled calling them "Rats", then addressed the Judge about her alleged drinking problem, "Listen, I put liquor in my milk. I put liquor in my coffee and in my orange juice. What do you want me to do starve to death? I drink everything I can get, including Benzedrine." When the judge sentenced her to a half a year in prison she screamed "Fine" than proceeded to nail the Judge with an ink pot. She was denied the right to make a phone call leaving the courtroom. Enraged, she started throwing down at her surrounding police officers. She was manhandled out of the room, straitjacketed, and plopped in her cell.
***
Brought before Police Judge Marshall Hickson today, Miss Farmer was in a defiant mood. He asked her if she had reported to her probation officer.
"No" she replied, "he didn't come around and see me."
The judge asked if she was in a fight Tuesday night at the Knickerbocker hotel.
"Yes" she said, "I was fighting for my country as well as myself."
"Have you driven a car since you were put on probation?" she was asked.
"No, I haven't" she snapped back. "But only because I couldn't get my hands on one."
The judge attempted to query her again as to the extent of her drinking.
"Listen" she said, her voice rising, "I put liquor in my milk, I put liquor in my coffee and in my orange juice. What do you want me to do, starve to death?"
Judge Hickson rose from his chair and shouted out the 180 day sentence.
"Fine" Miss Farmer shouted back at him.
The she walked quietly to a room outside the courtroom and asked to use the telephone. When she was denied this request, she swung at the police matron. Two policemen hurried to aid the matron and in the struggle one was knocked down.
The policemen took off Miss Farmer's shoes to soften her kicks. Finally, she was carried to a cell in a straitjacket. She continued to scream and kick.
***
"Since you appeared in this court October 24," Judge Hickson asked, "have you had anything to drink?"
"Yes," she shouted, "I drank everything I could get, including benzedrine."
"You were advised," the judge declared, "that if you took one drink of liquor or failed to be a law-abiding citizen ..."
"What," she interrupted, "do you expect me to do? I get liquor in my orange juice - in my coffee, must I starve to death to obey your laws?"
He asked her if she had been in a fight at a Hollywood hotel Tuesday night.
"Yes," she reported, "I was fighting for my country and for myself."
Had she, the judge asked, reported to the probation officer, as directed?
"No," she replied, "I never saw him. Why didn’t he show up?"
"Did you expect him to look you up?"
"I expected him to be around so I could get a look at his face."
The judge was leaving the bench, after sentencing her, when she shouted:
"I haven’t any lawyer. What I want to know is do I have any civil rights?"
The judge kept on walking.
***
Miss Farmer had started serving a six-month sentence for violation of probation, imposed in a drunk driving case. She resisted arrest and had to be taken forcibly from a Hollywood hotel to jail. The warrant for her latest arrest was issued on the complaint of a movie studio hairdresser that she was knocked down by the irate actress.
Dr. Leonard stated in a report to Judge Dudley S. Valentine that he asked Miss Farmer if she struck the hairdresser and received this answer:
"It's none of your fucking business. Besides, the question is insulting, irrelevant and impudent."
***
"If a person is treated like a patient, they are apt to act like one."
***
“Never console yourself into believing that the terror has passed, for it looms as large and evil today as it did in the despicable era of Bedlam.”