On 18 July 1906, Clifford Odets was born.

I want to make clear that I am not writing Odets’ biography because I think he was the greatest playwright in all the world, or because of his sometimes sensational life, or because he was briefly married to a movie star. I’m writing Odets’ life because he was a seminal artist, a breakthrough writer who could pack breathtaking poetry into a line of street talk. I’m writing this biography because my subject was a complex human being whose engine ran on talent. Like all men, he had foibles. They sometimes undermined his exemplary qualities. Clifford Odets lived during one of the most fraught and confusing times in human history, and his work reflected his times. “I will reveal America to itself by revealing myself to myself.” He truly strove to do this. He was relentlessly honest, recklessly generous. He strove and he struggled. He succeeded; he failed. As a father, he was tyrannical; he was also indelibly inspiring. He could be frightening, he could be tender.

We remember you as a man, Clifford Odets, and remind you that the American theatre is still roiling by way of your passion. You never held back though you were often blocked.

You reveal our imperfect selves to ourselves.