Though I’ve aged out of the demographic, I find myself drawn to Girls, primarily because of Lena Dunham’s central role. It’s not that the storylines resonate with my current life (I’m a wife and mother now), nor do I seek out youth culture in my daily life (living in Brooklyn, I experience enough of that). Rather, it’s Dunham’s skill as a writer that captivates me, particularly her character Hannah, who is fixated on maintaining her identity as a Creative Person. I appreciate her habit of looking up at the ceiling while conversing, and her tendency to both embrace and ridicule pretentiousness—qualities that many of us exhibit at any age. Hannah’s anxiety about being unmasked as a fraud, coupled with her moments of confidence, resonate with me. Having navigated my own share of pretentiousness during my MFA program, I relished her workshop scenes in Iowa—laughing, cringing, and reminiscing about my own misguided attempts at brilliance.
Despite being well past the casual flings, the trials, and the heartbreaks that characterize a woman in her twenties, I remain intrigued by Dunham’s perspective. My current indignities (like the occasional rogue hair) and joys (cozy nights on the couch) reflect a different stage of life. However, I still crave insight into Dunham’s thoughts, which are often hilarious, intelligent, and fraught with anxiety. My interest lies not solely in her relationships or quirks but in her evolution as an artist and woman.
Dunham possesses the remarkable ability to reflect on herself from a distance, combining critical insight with tenderness. As long as she continues to share this introspective journey, I’ll be invested in her endeavors, including her latest project: an HBO documentary she executive produced alongside Jenna Carter, titled “It’s Me, Clara,” which airs on March 23rd.
Directed by Matt Wolf, the documentary centers on Clara Hughes, the illustrator behind the beloved Eloise series penned by Kay Thompson. It delves into the unraveling of the creative and personal partnership between Hughes and Thompson, highlighting the emotional aftermath for Hughes—an aspect that many fans of the books might not be aware of. Dunham herself appears in the film, revealing the significant impact Hughes’ illustrations had on her own artistic development.
Dunham’s fascination with Eloise runs deep; she even has a tattoo of the character on her lower back, identifying with Eloise’s confidence despite her imperfections. I suspect that Dunham’s motivation for creating a film about Hughes stems from a desire to honor an artist who, like her, experienced early success but faced challenges. The film reflects the universal fear that talent can vanish, a sentiment that resonates with many as they age. Hughes’ journey illustrates how something vital can be lost due to circumstances beyond one’s control.
Now in his 80s, Hughes remains witty and creative, yet feels thwarted by the past. The dynamic between him and Thompson is a poignant narrative of two artistic souls clashing. Hughes describes how Thompson’s overpowering personality often overshadowed his own, despite his ability to channel his emotions into his illustrations. Over time, it became apparent that Thompson resented the fact that Hughes’ artwork became synonymous with Eloise, leading to tension between them.
Dunham metaphorically likens their relationship to a divorce, where both parties fight over their shared creation—Eloise. Unfortunately, Hughes signed contracts early on that barred him from drawing Eloise or anything resembling her without Thompson’s consent. Even after Thompson’s passing, navigating her estate’s contentious dealings has complicated his attempts to work on other Eloise-related projects. Despite his extensive body of work, he has never replicated the success of Eloise.
In the documentary, cultural commentator Tara Weiss offers a silver lining to Hughes’ story: while it’s undeniably unfair that he was shut out of Eloise’s legacy, he created something enduring. “He made a beautiful thing that lasts, and that’s rare,” she observes.
This notion likely resonates with someone like Dunham, who has garnered attention and acclaim in her own right. Her childhood love for Eloise stemmed from recognizing a character who embodies a sense of belonging and self-worth. As an artist who has found herself in the public eye, it seems Dunham is driven to create a tribute to another deserving artist who has not received the recognition he rightfully deserves—and perhaps never will.
Summary
In this reimagined piece, Renée Davis reflects on the connection between Lena Dunham and the iconic character Eloise, exploring how Dunham’s latest documentary on illustrator Clara Hughes provides insight into the struggles of creative partnerships and the fear of losing one’s artistic identity. The narrative delves into the complexities of their relationship, the impact of their work, and the desire to honor artists who may not have received their due recognition.