Loving Frank

By Nancy Horan



While reading this book, I flip-flopped like a freshly-caught fish on whether I liked the story or not. I have never been so undecided before. "Loving Frank" begins simply enough. It draws the reader in like any good book will do.

Mamah Cheney sidled up to the Studebaker and put her hand sideways on the crank. She had started the thing a hundred times before, but she still heard Edwin's words whenever she grabbed onto the handle. Leave your thumb out. If you don't, the crank can fly back and take your thumb right off. She churned with a fury now, but no sputter came from beneath the car's hood. Crunching across old snow to the driver's side, she checked the throttle and ignition, then returned to the handle and cranked again. Still nothing. A few teasing snowflakes floated under her hat rim and onto her face. She studied the sky, then set on from her house on foot toward the library.

It was a bitterly cold end-of-March day, and Chicago Avenue was a river of frozen slush. Mamah navigated her way through steaming horse droppings, the hem of her black coat lifted high. Three blocks west, at Oak Park Avenue, she leaped onto the wooden sidewalk and hurried south as the wet snow grew dense.

The images, including those of the teasing snowflakes and the steaming horse droppings, immediately paint a vivid winter picture of a woman who is desperate enough for a not-yet-specified-something to brave the cold. The reader soon learns Mamah Cheney is on her way to see Frank Lloyd Wright speak to a women's group.

Their affair begins in a fairly unobtrusive manner. A lingering glance. One's hand on another's leg. Sharing like thoughts that could never be shared with the spouse. Both Mamah and Frank are married to other people whom they each have children with, but they proceed with very little thought to that.

That is where the story started to lose me. The fact that Mamah and Frank seemed to hardly take their children into consideration, even seeming to almost resent the presence of their children, was what bothered me. However, since the framework of this story is true, I continued to read. Another point of contention I had with the book was that both Frank and Mamah seemed to adopt the attitude that they were the victims, not their spouses, because they were expected by society to be responsible to their own spouses. They wanted to be sympathized with by friends and neighbors. Perhaps in being unwilling to see Mamah and Frank's points, I am showing my age and standards.

In not giving up on the book, I was treated to a superb ending. Since few people know Mamah's history, the ending will shock the reader. It is gory and emotional, and while some of the neighbors in the book whispered that it was retribution, I felt completely sorry for both Mamah and Frank, as well as (almost) everyone else involved.

"Loving Frank" is very smartly written. Author Nancy Horan has a natural flow with her writing, making it easy to continue reading, even when you don't agree with the protagonists. She is able to breathe life into a story that has been brushed under the rug of forgotten history.

The book is interjected with newspaper articles and bits of actual history, but the writing is so seamless, it is hard to differentiate between the fact and the embellishment of Nancy Horan. She does provide an afterward that gives the reader a vague idea of which pieces she has filled in herself.

Overall, "Loving Frank" a very good book. Frank Lloyd Wright may have been a genius, but he also seems to have been a bit of a narcissist and egomaniac. Still, Nancy Horan has given a well-written account of what may or may not have transpired between Mamah and Frank. Since the middle of the book tends to drag a bit, I would give "Loving Frank" a B+.

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