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135 6 Marriage, Divorce, and The Petrified Forest Although World War I remained the defining moment of Robert Sherwood’s life until the day he died, the experience most affected him over the years from 1919 to 1934. His eleven-year marriage to Mary Brandon illustrates the impact the war had on his psyche and his behavior. His emotional ups and downs and his frenetic restlessness juxtaposed with periods of silence characterized their early years together. But as time passed and the scars of war more or less healed, his lifestyle also changed. He became more dedicated to his work, which meant fewer parties and late nights of gambling. Although he would never be anything resembling a hermit, he delighted now in being at home with his daughter and in the company of his extended Sherwood family, as he had before 1917. As he changed, however, Mary, a Broadway gadabout, did not. The distance between them grew, eventually leading to divorce. In the years when Bob was scurrying between the Algonquin Round Table and Life magazine, viewing films, attending plays, and socializing, he was searching for some meaningful and creative path. Despite the constant support he received from his family, he craved the love and companionship of someone to run around with him, to keep him from being alone with his memories, someone who was more vulnerable than himself. For him, that someone was Mary Judah Brandon, the daughter of divorced parents, Helen Armstrong Malone and Henry Judah Brandon of Indianapolis. Mary was a short, pretty, and somewhat flighty nineteen-year-old aspiring actress when Bob met her through the Algonquin circle, one of the young women who attached themselves to that group of shining stars. Mary attended innumerable social events where she and Bob enjoyed each other’s company, and then performed with him in the Algonquin’s No Siree! Her acting career never went very far, however. From December 1919 to September 1920 she had a small role in Aaron Hoffman’s comedy Welcome Stranger in Chicago, traveling with it to New York, where it ran from September 1920 to June 1921. Hopeful after such a long run, she was devastated when her next two shows, Up the Ladder and Nature’s Nobleman, flopped. In addition, Mary appeared in one 136 Interlude 1921 silent film, The Bashful Suitor, but then no other offers came her way. In any event, she may have seen a better opportunity in becoming Mrs. Robert Sherwood than in continuing to audition for Broadway plays. It is not easy to paint a truly accurate picture of Bob and Mary’s relationship because almost all the documentation left behind depicts Mary solely from Bob’s point of view. Posie, Lydia, Rosamund, Arthur, Marc Connelly, Dorothy Parker, and even Bob himself all told stories about Mary’s apparent obnoxious behavior and chronic hysteria. Her concern for herself, her short temper, and her public outbursts were constant grist for the New York gossip mill. Bob’s first biographer, John Mason Brown, portrays Mary as a bundle of contradictions: “She appeared soft and was tough, seemed yielding and was demanding. She was self-absorbed to the point of egomania, self-deluding to the verge of pathos, and bantam in everything except her faults.”¹ The same type of uncomplimentary portrait is repeated in numerous other sources. Neither Mary’s family and friends nor even Mary herself left anything but a few tales behind. Therefore, her version of what it was like to be Robert Sherwood’s wife has always been missing, and even a careful reading of the letters and reminiscences combined with some thoughtful analysis is bound to be fraught with broad supposition. By the end of this telling, Mary’s story will still be veiled in mystery. What is obvious from the start is that no matter how annoying Mary seemed to Bob’s friends, for most of their time together he was enthralled by her. She was as energetic as he, enamored of the theater and films, and available at all hours of the day and night to accompany him to dinner, shows, salons , and trips to Long Island or Vermont to spend time with the Algonquin regulars. Always eager for a new adventure, she was, however, very impatient if she was not receiving the attention she demanded. Marc Connelly describes one vivid example of Mary’s desire to be the main attraction. One evening in the early 1920s Bob was hosting...

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