I wanted to do a bio of Peg Entwistle, the actress who jumped off the HOLLYWOODLAND sign in 1932. She was a very promising B’way starlet in the 1920s, was in ten plays and Bette Davis said she was her inspiration to become an actress. She was in the same “class” as Davis, Claudette Colbert, Katharine Hepburn, Barbara Stanwyck—they all headed West when talkies hit. But only Peg failed to click. After one film (and not a bad film at that), she committed that spectacular suicide.
But I could only do a book about her if she’d left a scrapbook—I finally tracked down her family, and her niece told me, “No, all we have is a couple of photos—we wish she’d left a scrapbook!” There’s nothing on her at Lincoln Center, just a few obits. Not enough to get a book out of.
Eve, forgive a little ignorance here, but I know nothing about writing biographies and am wondering why you need a scrapbook to write one. Is it for personal perspectives? Windows into the soul? Basic background information?
The goddamn nerve of some people – to off themselves in some spectacular way, but not to leave a scrapbook.
How can a failed Hollywood actress be so inconsiderate as not to leave behind detailed mementos for use by her future biographers? If I were ever to become a flop as a starlet, I’d be sure to keep detailed notes of my moments of despair that I’ll never be remembered so that I can be remembered.
Eve, if I should ever become a Broadway legend but Hollywood flop (or belly-flop as the case may be) in the early era of motion pictures, would you be my biographer?
Thank you, Billdo, at least you’d have the common courtsey to document your tragic decline!
Yeah, to write a bio—even one that’s about “the time and the place” as well as “the girl”—you need enough biographical and career info to build a chronological skeleton for the book. I’d also need her reviews, and especially interviews with her, to get her “voice.” And photos.
Most actresses keep scrapbooks, dammit. And she was from a theater family—her father, Robert Entwistle, was a Broadway actor, as was her husband, Robert Keith (Peg’s stepson was Brian Keith, from Family Affair). Damn, that coulda been an interesting book, about an interesting era.
IANABiographer but my WAG would be that the scrap book would be needed for additional primary source material as most or all of Peg’s contemporaries are dead.
The “H,” which I think was the right choice. For one thing, you can rest halfway up. Climbing up an “L” is too damned exhausting. You can easily slip off an “O,” and what if you get stuck in the crotch of a “Y” or a “W?”
Yes, if you’re planning to jump off a giant letter, I think “H” is your best bet.
Eve, I wonder if Peg had any groupies that kept good scrapbooks. Maybe you could put an ad in the paper and rustle up some info that way. Just a thought.
Nah. I’ve googled her, and asked every film & theater researcher I know—and I found a very nice researcher at E!, where they did a Mysteries and Scandals show about her a couple of years back. That’s how I got her niece’s number. Frustrating as it is, it looks like poor Peg’s a dead end.
Damn. There are a few people I’d love to write about, but there’s just not enough firsthand source material on them to get more than a magazine article about (yes, I’ve already written a magazine article on Peg!).
I’d have loved to have written about Broadway in the mid- to late-20s, a really vibrant period. And then of course the early '30s in Hollywood, when flocks of Broadwayites headed west (in addition to the ones named in the OP, Mae West, Spencer Tracy, Jeanette MacDonald, the Marx Brothers, Paul Muni, Ina Claire, Jeanne Eagels—trains and trains of 'em).
And then of course, Peg’s own tragedy—and you have to admire the drama and symbolism of her suicide! I also have a copy of her only film (13 Women), and she was certainly potential star material: pretty, great voice, obviously talented.
Well, if you ever want to do a book about the music side of the movie industry during the transformation from silents to talkies during the '20s and '30s, give me a holler. My great uncle was Leo Forbstein, who pioneered putting the orchestra music to the action on the silent screen and was the first musical director for Warner Brothers, as well as the first winner of the Oscar for Best Score in a Motion Picture.
I not only have a scrap book with original photos, I have the original sound studio plates of the radio tribute done in his honor when he died in the '50s, with commentary from people like Al Jolson, Eddie Cantor, Doris Day and about a dozen others who worked with him over the years. And I have contact information for all his grandchildren (his daughter only recently passed away, sadly), who surely have a ton of memorablilia, as well.
Not sure how interesting it would be, but I just thought I’d let you know you’ve got access to more than just a scrapbook on the subject if ever you want one.
Sorry to hear that this one fell through for you, though.
