By Stuart Mitchner
I see life in nothing but the certainty of your Love…
—John Keats to Fanny Brawne,
May 1820
When John Keats wrote about life and love to Fanny Brawne, he had less than a year to live. In a letter from Rome on November 30, 1820, his last, he told his friend Charles Brown, “There is one thought enough to kill me; I have been well, healthy, alert, &c., walking with her, and now — the knowledge of contrast, feeling for light and shade, all that information (primitive sense) necessary for a poem, are great enemies to the recovery of my stomach.”
Decades before eavesdropping on Keats, I was reading about the doomed romance of Abraham Lincoln and Ann Rutledge in a “young adult” biography. Curious to see how John Ford handled the story, I sampled his 1939 film Young Mr. Lincoln on YouTube and found that, thanks to Henry Fonda’s ungainly charm, Ford manages to suggest a romance without actually showing it.
Played by Pauline Moore, whose next picture was Charlie Chan in Rio, Ann has a basket full of flowers, Abe sniffs one, takes the basket and carries it as they walk along the river talking, she telling him he’s going to be somebody important someday, he poking fun at the idea, until they come to a stop and he takes a good look at her and says, with the tone of quietly awestruck discovery unique to Henry Fonda, “You sure are pretty, Ann.” Uncomfortably pleased, she lowers her eyes, and says “Some people don’t like red hair.” He looks at her and says “I love red hair” with a subtle, tender emphasis on the verb, so you know he’s just told her he loves her even if he doesn’t know it yet, but she knows it, smiling, holding out her hand to him, as if she might fall into his arms. Instead, she takes back her basket, and walks off. As he throws a thoughtful stone into the river, the hesitantly romantic soundtrack becomes dark and stormy, the river turns to snow and ice, and next thing you know he’s kneeling at her grave, putting some flowers on it, talking to her, not like a lover but as a poet communing with his spirit muse. more