Word: bellow
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...partly that, as Saul Bellow wrote, different minds inhabit different centuries. I suppose that if you take your beliefs seriously, and are consistent in marrying deed to creed, then you may see, with blinding clarity, the need to eliminate blasphemous inconsistencies. The statues at Bamiyan, for example...
...party raged on I wandered to the exit and accidentally found myself in the limousine line. I watched as satin-jacketed valets summoned stretch limos by number. Then, when these surrealistically elongated vehicles arrived, they would bellow out the name of the chief passenger. I felt rather underdressed in this line, not least since I had no limo, and I didn't think my car would arrive on its own however loudly it was called. Not having a limo at a Grammys party I realized, made me a member of the 1 percent. I slipped away quietly into the night...
...says so right here. We "bellow," says the Los Angeles Times. And "howl." We reach "fever pitch." Our "rage sharpens" our rhetoric, says the Washington Post. We "unleash our wrath," says the Baltimore Sun. I always trust the newspapers, of course, but I've searched myself for signs of rage, and I've come up empty. The same is true for my conservative pals (not one of whom, I'm happy to say, could be counted among the G.O.P. battalion of Brooks Brothers goons who actually did bellow and howl at Miami-Dade officials last month). Like most people, conservatives...
...books made of paper and ink began sliding into digital obsolescence. But those not yet ready for the brave new reading world can mark 2000 by the extraordinary output of new fiction from big-name veteran authors, all producing energetic work at age 60 or older: Margaret Atwood, Saul Bellow, Doris Lessing, Joyce Carol Oates, Edna O'Brien, Philip Roth, Susan Sontag, John Updike. The year also brought posthumous books by Joseph Heller and Mario Puzo. The millennium has so far been generous to readers. In with the new! In with...
...RAVELSTEIN Much ink was spilled earlier this year wondering how much Saul Bellow's novel revealed about the real life of his deceased friend Allan Bloom. Such a waste of energy. What principally matters here is that the author, 85, produces another brainy, complex and cantankerous hero to add to his glittering gallery of memorable fictional beings...