Word: bellowing
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...Josie, I'd love you whether you wrote or not," said Saul Bellow in a letter to Josephine Herbst. He had plenty of company. During her long literary life Herbst attracted such disparate admirers as Maxwell Anderson, Katherine Anne Porter, Ernest Hemingway, James T. Farrell and John Cheever. When she died in 1969 at the age of 76, Critic Alfred Kazin, who had once dismissed her work as "desperate pedestrianism," wrote that he had never known any other writer who was "so solid, so joyous, so giving...
...political cognoscenti and academicians have been holding leadership seminars of late all over the country, and they thump their annotated treatises and bellow about "staff unity" and "purposeful agendas" and "policy initiatives," and there is nothing that emerges from these deep encounters that looks, sounds or dresses like Ronald Reagan. Maybe it's time to rewrite the book of leadership...
...Moscow's Baptist Church. And some go to the Middle East, on which they pronounce solemn, chin-tugging judgment full of right and wrong and anguished ambivalence, to make up rules-for others. There are so many of these travelers that the Middle East has become, in Saul Bellow's words, the "moral resort area" of the West: "What Switzerland is to winter holidays and the Dalmatian coast to summer tourists, Israel and the Palestinians are to the West's need for justice." The West Bank alone offers the moral tourist a sandbox full of paradoxes, ironies...
...blockbuster novel, short-story writers have had a hard time supporting their habit. While Novelists John Updike and Saul Bellow can afford occasional forays into the briefer forms, a hard-bitten short-story adept like Stephen Dixon, 48, has had to toil as a bartender, waiter and pajama salesman to pay for the privilege of persisting in an unprofitable genre. But a boomlet in short fiction seems to be at hand. Publishers are wagering in increasing numbers that storytellers can attract readers beyond the pages of the little magazines...
...walkout by Britain's 17,700 dock workers dragged into its second week, the truck drivers stuck at the port of Dover grew surlier. By late last week the motorway snaking through the tranquil Kent countryside had burgeoned into a five-mile parking lot, replete with the bellow of air horns and the whiff of rotting fruit destined never to reach its market. The curses grew saltier, the threats louder. Finally, an ultimatum came from the madding crowd: open the port by 10 p.m. or else. An hour before the deadline, scared dock strikers relented and waved the vehicles...