fuck yeah fonda

Lawrence Grobel: I wrote down something he [John Steinbeck] said of you - My impressions of Hank are of a man reaching but unreachable, gentle but capable of sudden wild and dangerous violence, sharply critical of others but equally self-critical, caged and fighting the bars but timid of the light, violently opposed to external restraint, imposing an iron slavery on himself. His face is a picture of opposites in conflict.

Is he accurate?

Henry Fonda (May 16 1905 - August 12 1982)

Once upon a time, he strode through meadows, was chased by Mohawks, buried the ax in the stump, and read from the law book as if were the Bible. In all eras, he ran, galloped, slouched and rounded in and out of the Hollywood dream of American history.

As the prairie town’s tins star, he was hard but clean, proficient but haunted. As the comic victim of romantic love, he took pratfalls for lustful females. In war, he led armies and studied his thoughts while other men whacked maps with sticks. Other items he was the loner, drifter, killer – the dark shape cornered with a gun or the parolee flattened by sunlight against a scorched expanse of heartland, even when falsely charged, he was the criminal of his own imagination, because he could so easily have done what they accused him of - robbed the bank, or committed the murder.