Shearer

Norma Shearer's a pretty good writer.  She describes being rejected by silent era director D.W. Griffith at the beginning of her career:

"The Master looked down at me, studied my upturned face in the glare of the arc, and shook his eagle head. Eyes no good, he said. A cast in one and far too blue; blue eyes always looked blank in close-up. You'll never make it, he declared, and turned solemnly away."

She was rejected on appearance alone so many times that it is amazing to me that she continued on her dogged path.  Her primary "flaws" were being stouter than the rest as well as having one eye that wouldn't quite stare in the same direction as the other.  She does look somewhat cross-eyed in some scenes, but it comes across as either endearing or exotic.  Her strange eyes make her seem almost cat-like in early films, and when she tilts her head down and scowls determinedly, she's almost frightening in a witchy way.  Earlier in life, she had learned daily eye exercises that allowed her to exert more control over the errant one, although only for periods of time, not permanently.

She was rejected for her eyes and figure instantly and vehemently for five years, only gaining a foothold by killing a couple of minor roles and striking up a cautious camaraderie with ferocious genius Irving Thalberg, a very in-charge producer in Hollywood at the time.  She later married him, etc.

Although she played "bad girl" roles in a very authentic, disarming and terribly modern way (The Divorcee and A Free Soul, already discussed on this blog), my favorite role of hers is Mary Hanes in The Women, the greatest movie of all time.  Mary simpers around a little bit, but mostly she's a very enlightened, noble creature who, while not quite a badass, fails to take shit from anyone.  All the best lines belong to comic foil Rosalind Russell in that movie, but the heroine never gets to be funny.  Isn't that stupid?

The Divorcee

The Divorcee - See?  I said witchy.  Some Theda Bara shit here.

What in the.

Well! I was reading through an old journal I kept and found a quiz I took for fun regarding what kind of housewife I would have made in the 30s.

Three years ago, I was called a failure. My old score:

16 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

I took the test again, SURE that I would improve on my prior score. I can cook many dishes now - successfully! I sew - kind of! I keep plants around - and many of them survive! I actually can't think of anything else at the moment, but surely there are things. Can I put them to use? Let's see the new score.

3 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Poor (Failure) Take the test!

APPARENTLY NOT.

Worse?! A score so low it has almost skidded off the bottom of the chart. Like I said last time - I thought it was going so well. I can't decide where I went wrong. I was just trying to be honest. I said that, yes, I do fix healthy meals, but I also sulk and complain sometimes. Full disclosure up in here! Yes, I do have interests and personal activities, but I do sometimes wear red nail polish (this is a flag). I, apparently, don't have sense enough to wipe off the cap of a milk jug before opening it. Evidently, this was a thing. Does it matter that I don't drink milk? No. I would probably lose my last three points for that anyway.

I think these rules are rather stringent for a depression-era woman. Weren't there better things to bitch about than crooked seams or mealy cornbread? According to my grandma, who was of marriageable age in the 30s (but only if you lived in Alabama), wearing clean clothes and bathing daily was essentially all you had to do to keep up your part of the bargain as a respectable woman and member of society. Anything beyond that just amounted to personal preference. I can proudly say that I measure up to her strict guidelines of ladyhood, almost all of the time.