Indubitably, dear chums, Sam Shepard’s fabulous audience often feels like they possess a near-chummy relationship with this enigmatic artist. Through reading his magnum opus, most of which bears a striking resemblance to a thinly-fictionalized memoir, we gain an intimate understanding of his timeless inner struggles: his alienation, his quest to redefine masculinity, and his ceaseless drive for equilibrium in the masculine and feminine dynamic. Greenfield’s delightful new biography, “True West,” does an exquisite job of placing our dear friend Sam Shepard in the context of his era.
The finest pages of “True West” recount the ebbs and flows of Shepard’s playwriting journey, along with the rollercoaster of fame and admiration he experienced in his life as a Hollywood actor, which both spurred and stifled his literary talents. Greenfield does a sterling job of transporting the reader to the world in which Shepard inhabited, especially when describing the passionately creative heights of the 1960s and early ’70s New York City. My dear readers, I could barely contain my excitement, jealousy, and awe when I read of Shepard’s dalliances with the jazz world, the punk scene, and the off-Broadway venues that fostered such a counterculture ethos, now sadly missing from American theater. The days when young Sam Shepard and Patti Smith wrote and performed together in “Cowboy Mouth” will give you butterflies in your tummy.
Hats off to Greenfield for his marvelous account of these early years in Shepard’s life. My hope is that his biography will inspire you to revisit Shepard’s groundbreaking early work – his plays resound with their ingenuity, fun, and rock-and-roll spirit. Greenfield also excels at sifting through the numerous legends surrounding Shepard – for instance, the details of his first wedding remain shrouded in mystery, with one witness describing a scene of domestic bliss, while another swears everyone there was as high as kites.
What is lacking in Greenfield’s biography, one might argue, is an exploration of Sam Shepard’s most creatively significant period – the time when he wrote his greatest plays like “Curse of the Starving Class,” “Fool for Love,” “Buried Child,” “A Lie of the Mind,” and, of course, “True West.” Greenfield focuses more on the adventurous detours of Shepard’s life – touring with Bob Dylan, hobnobbing with the Rolling Stones, writing screenplays for Michelangelo Antonioni and Wim Wenders, and starring in films directed by Terrence Malick and Volker Schlöndorff.
It must be said, however, that Greenfield does a splendid job in asserting that Shepard is a first-class American poet, which is often overlooked due to the king-sized shadow that his fame and celebrity cast over his finest work. “True West” is a biography that focuses predominantly on the artistic aspects of Shepard’s life, rather than probing into the sordid details that a less conscientious biographer might choose to cover. All in all, my fellow readers, it is quite the experience to peruse a biography of a once-familiar individual penned by someone who did not know them. Reading “True West” left me with a deeper understanding of Shepard’s life before and after our paths crossed. However, I must admit that the man himself remains unfathomable; much like viewing him through a drone from a distance, we can discern where and when he went but are left clueless about his motives. Yet, perhaps, that is precisely how Sam Shepard would have wished it.
