At the beginning of the last century two people fell in love. Mamah (nickname for Martha) Bothwick Cheney and Frank Wright.
Frank LLoyd Wright, that is.
Theirs was a meeting of the minds. A whirlwind of passion and creativity that brought out their truest selves.
Unfortunately, they were both married to other people and both had young children. This did not stop them in their desperate need to be together. To be alive, to be themselves, to break free of tradition and flee the restraints of polite society.
This was a problem for me. I found their immediate lives insightful and somewhat interesting. If you are a fan of FLW architechture you may enjoy the book.I, however, am not.In principal, I admire what he is trying to achieve by capturing the essence of, “a huge block of blue on top of a block of gold prairie, and the quiet line between Heaven and earth.” His artistic desires are exuberant, but I found the utter selfishness of their egotistical jaunt dispiriting.
The flourishing spirit of invention of the age led itself to a freedom previously unacceptable for women. It must have been startling to live in this period of growth.
1889 saw the invention of the automobile. 1898 the telephone. In 1902 in Australia, women were given the right to vote – 18 years ahead of the United States, which passed the 19th Ammendment in 1920. Technological change can not help but have social manifestations.
1889 saw the invention of the automobile. 1898 the telephone. In 1902 in Australia, women were given the right to vote – 18 years ahead of the United States, which passed the 19th Ammendment in 1920. Technological change can not help but have social manifestations.
Mamah specifically was acting on a desire to be something more than a wife and mother. She meets and works with Ellen Key, a liberal, socialistic feminist who, ironically, did her early work in support of children.To follow her desire, Mamah abandons her three young children. She abandons her husband to search for herself and to cultivate the powerful attraction she has to Frank. Loving Frank is going to enrich and destroy her life, and the lives of many, many others.
Nancy Horan writes an imaginative, fictitious story from the letters of Mamah. She does a brilliant job capturing an interior maelstrom of conflicting emotions and makes Mamah appealing. Were we not so disgusted with her behavior, her intellectual pursuits would be fascinating.Under any other circumstance the journey of a woman to find fulfillment and independence would be gripping. Her egomaniacal behavior, however, soundly defeats any interest I might otherwise have had in her.
Frank is equally unappealing. Not as a chararcter, but as a human being. His architectural genius aside, he is a selfish arrogant man, who never concerns himself with his fiscal or emotional responsibilities to anyone other than Mamah. His bills are unpaid. His family vilified. His only concern is the happiness he is sure he deserves more than anyone else.
I found him maddening. I felt constricted by the very man whose work is said to be freedom itself.I will say that Nancy Horan is a great writer and that the idea behind “Loving Frank” is compelling. If you can read “Loving Frank“ as a social commentary or as a view into the trials of artistic temperament, it is worth reading.For myself, it was tedious and, by the time of the gruesome conclusion, I could not have cared less … and was thrilled to be done with it.