W. C. Fields : his follies and fortunes (1949)

W. C. Fields "It's very well composed." "Punctuation sound throughout? Comma after bitch?" "Everything's in order, I believe, Mr. Fields." "Then let us continue." Fields' and Hardy's repeated attempts to crack Miss Michael's composure were unavailing; they finally sent her a telegram saying, "We're defeated. We take off our hats to you." The comedian used to tell Miss Michael that he'd always wanted to be a writer. "What a wonderful trade!" he would say. "All you need is your head and paper and pencil." Elaborating on his frustration, he said he wanted particularly to be a crusading writer. "What would you crusade for, Mr. Fields?" his secretary asked, and got an answer like Fowler's on election day. "I'd crusade against everything," he said firmly. At other times, his urge was to write something "simple." "They overdo everything," he complained. "It's all complicated and significant." Although he seldom read modern best sellers, or book club selections, he read constantly from his old favorites, the English romanticists of the last century. To keep abreast of the times, he subscribed to several magazines. The New Yorker was one of his special delights, and he went through each issue of Time, Newsweek and the Saturday Evening Post. He loved the trappings of writing. His ritual with Miss Michael, on days when he was to work on a script or write something else, made him feel important. Humming cheerfully, he would lay things out, either on his desk or in a lawn swing where he liked to work. His style was extravagant, florid, influenced in large measure by Dickens, whom he knew by heart. "Despite his love of simplicity, he could never say, 'Hit him on the head,' " says Miss Michael. "He always had to make it 'Conk him on the noggin.' " Some time before his death he was working on two major 278