Cool Hand Luke Author Donn Pierce Has Died
He was not on the list.
It's been said that if Donn Pearce is remembered at all, it won't be
for having written "Cool Hand Luke," his acclaimed
but little-read
novel about his life as a convict on a southern chain gang,
but for the
classic movie based on it. Starring
Paul Newman in the Oscar-nominated
title role, Cool Hand Luke (1967)
was both a critical and commercial success. An outstanding
film across
the board, it brought us one of the screen's most compelling
anti-heroes and one of the all-time great movie lines:
"What we've got
here is failure to communicate." Nominated for Best
Picture, "Cool Hand
Luke" was one of the key films of the Sixties. Many
consider it a
masterpiece.
Donn Pearce is not one of them.
"I seem to be the only guy in the United States who
doesn't like the
movie," Pearce told the Miami Herald in 1989.
"Everyone had a whack at
it. They screwed it up 99 different ways."
To begin with, Pearce has said he thinks Paul Newman was
wrong for the
part of Luke. Then there's the minimal royalties the
financially
strapped Pierson receives from a very successful movie based
on his
life. Faced with ill health, mounting medical bills, and
other
financial hardships, Pearce has had to work as a process
server, bail
bondsman, and private investigator just to make ends meets
all these
years.
On top of this, when people think of "Cool Hand
Luke," they invariably
remember the movie, not Pearce's book. Though critically
acclaimed,
Pearce's novel never received the readership it deserves.
Even Pearce
has said that "the book is a nonentity." For over
forty years, he's
been trying to recreate its success with little luck.
Donald Mills Pearce was born in 1928 in Croydon,
Pennsylvania, but "never really
knew what it was like to have a home." His parents
divorced when he was
eleven. At fifteen, he dropped out of school and tried
joining the
merchant marine but was refused because he was underage. The
Army was
another story. In 1944, it needed infantry badly. Pearce
lied about his
age (he was sixteen) and was inducted. But he chafed under
Army
discipline and went AWOL before turning himself in. A court
martial
sentenced him to 30 days in the stockade but he was released
almost
immediately as a combat infantry replacement. About to be
shipped off
to war, Pearce wrote a desperate letter to his mom, who
informed the
Army that her son was underage. The Army discharged Pearce
for false
enlistment.
Now seventeen, Pearce was old enough to join the merchant
marine. He
marveled at the world he saw during his travels. Arriving in
Paris, he
became involved in the thriving post-war European black
market. He sold
counterfeit American money to a police officer and wound up
in a tough
French prison. While working outside prison walls, Pearce
made a run
for it. Traveling cross-country by foot, he crossed the
border into
Italy. After replacing the seaman's papers the French had
confiscated
from him, Pearce boarded a ship to Canada. From there, he
re-entered
the United States.
Back in America, the nineteen-year-old Pearce met an older
burglar, who
became his safecracking partner. Pearce admits he wasn't
very good at
it but he was
addicted to the adrenaline rush of crime. But businesses now
used
checks instead of cash, and most of the 27 safes Pearce says
he cracked
held little or no money.
In Tampa, Florida, Pearce thought he saw his big chance.
Moviegoers
were lined up around the block to see "Hamlet."
Pearce envisioned a
theater safe full of money. His partner passed on the job.
Pearce, who
has described himself as someone whose "mouth runs like
a lunatic,"
bragged about the job to a waitress he was trying to bed.
She told her
husband, who was a cop.
Pearce was convicted of breaking & entering and grand
larceny. In 1949,
he was sentenced to five years hard labor ("back when
hard time meant
hard"). He was twenty.
Pearce spent the first year working in the print shop at the
Florida
State Penitentiary at Raiford. But then, he was sent to Road
Camp No.
48, Tavares, Lake County, Florida. Over thirty years later,
Pearce
recalled the experience as "a chamber of horrors."
Chain gang inmates lived and worked with iron shackles
riveted to their
ankles for their entire sentences. Simple tasks such as
removing and
putting on their pants became a struggle. To avoid bruising
their
ankles, inmates had to adopt a stiff-legged, pigeon-toed
gate or tie
the ankle rings high on their calves.
Road gangs worked from sunup to sundown tarring roads or
clearing the
tall grass and weeds along roadsides with "bush
axes" or "yo-yos." Also
called Kayser blades or sling blades, these weed cutters had
long
wooden handles attached to an A-shaped yoke with a
double-edged blade
for clearing brush with vigorous forward and backward
swings.
Guards beat prisoners for any infraction. For special
punishment, there
was the "Box," a cramped, unventilated wooden
outhouse that was
stifling by day and cold and full of insects at night. An
inmate could
earn a night in the Box for offenses ranging from losing his
dinner
spoon to "eyeballing," that is, "looking at
someone who was passing you
on the road. Prisoners weren't allowed to look at a free
person in
those days." Pearce was put in the Box twice:
"Once for talking in
lineup and once for letting the mess hall door slam."
After a night in
the Box, an inmate was put back on the "hard road"
at sunup.
Pierce says he always yearned to write. He found a writing
mentor in an
inmate who was a Stanford graduate. Released after two
years, Pearce
returned to the merchant marine (earning a third-mate's
license) and
began writing in earnest during the long voyages. His fellow
shipmates
"used to say in the forecastle, 'Imagine, a seaman
trying to write a
book!' and they'd roar laughing."
A near-fatal motorcycle accident in 1959 immobilized Pearce
for two
years. In 1960, while recuperating, he started writing
"Cool Hand
Luke." For five years, he rewrote it as many as six
times, while
serving in the merchant marine and living in studio
apartments in New
York. Pearce already had six unpublished novels under his
belt when he
finished "Cool Hand Luke." It garnered a string of
rejections. Finally,
Scribner's published it in 1965. The New York Times called
it an
"impressive novel; the most brutal and authentic
account of a road
gang-or chain gang-that we have had." Publishers Weekly
praised "the
author's extraordinary gift for rhythmic prose, tragic drama,
and
realism made larger than life."
The day before the book's release, the New York Times
printed an
article entitled "A Picket Rejoices at his First
Novel." Pearce was
walking a picket line at New York's Pier 59. Unlike his
fellow
strikers, he was "beaming" on the eve of
publication of his first book.
He said that he met his wife, Christine, a nurse, while
recuperating
from his motorcycle crash, which he called "one of the
best accidents
of my life."
But despite good reviews, the hardcover sold a meager eleven
hundred
copies. A decade after the movie's release, the book was out
of print
and would be for another eight years. Sales of "Cool
Hand Luke" were always disappointing, especially to Pearce, who struggled
all
his life to make a living despite having a hit film based on
his life.
Two years after the book's release, it was a major motion
picture.
Jalem, the production company of actor
Jack Lemmon, bought the film rights.
Pearce wrote the first draft of the screenplay, which was completed
by
Frank Pierson, Oscar-winning screenwriter of
Dog Day Afternoon (1975).
Pearce served as the film's technical adviser and had an
uncredited bit
part as "Sailor." His entire time in Hollywood,
Pearce felt unwelcome.
He'd expected movie people to be more open-minded about his
past, but
he said they treated him like an ex-con. On the last day of
filming,
Pearce punched out a fellow actor. He wasn't invited to the
movie's
premiere but attended the Oscars ceremony when he was
nominated for
Best Screenplay. He lost to
In the Heat of the Night (1967).
The Pearces bought a house in Fort Lauderdale and struggled
to raise
their three sons, Hawser, Anker, and Rudder. Pearce wrote
books and
stories that were either rejected or published and made very
little
money. He worked as a freelance writer for Esquire, Playboy,
Oui, and
the Miami Herald. His wife, Chris, often had to work as a
nurse to
support them, despite ill health.
It took Pearce fours years to complete the follow up to
"Cool Hand
Luke." Published in 1972, "Pier Head Jump"
was an off-beat, off-color
tale about merchant marines who "rescue" an
inflatable female doll
that's so life-like, they squabble, fight, and, eventually,
commit
murder to possess "her" sexually. It was supposed
to be a comedy.
In 1974, Pearce published "Dying in the Sun," a
non-fiction account of
the elderly in Florida that was not well-received. That's
when Pearce
quit writing to support his family, just six years after his
Oscar
nomination. For the next thirty years, he worked as a
process server,
bail bondsman, and private investigator.
In later years, Pearce underwent hernia operations, fought
cancer
of the spleen, and suffered from arthritis. His wife, Chris,
also
struggles with rheumatoid arthritis.
In 2004, Pearce returned to form with the acclaimed
"Nobody Comes
Back," a tale of a young soldier during the Battle of
the Bulge. The
review from Newsweek was so good, it caused a brief spike in
sales.
"Nobody Comes Back" is Pearce's first acclaimed
book since "Cool Hand
Luke." As further vindication, the paperback is due out
in February
2009.
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