Word: bicking
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Dubin falls in love with Fanny Bick, a semi-flower child and college dropout. He is fifty-seven; she is twenty-two. It takes him 200 pages to get around to making love to her. They love each other, passionately, but Dubin cannot let go of his wife, of his ordered life. Malamud's descriptions of a middle-aged marriage-gone-sour are minutely detailed, embarassing in their intimacy and immediacy...
...book, mindful of the vicarious nature of his craft: "One writes lives he can't live." The subject in this case is D.H. Lawrence, whose yawps about sex and blood consciousness seem designed to unhinge middle-aged intellectuals. Dubin proves no exception and soon takes up with Fanny Bick, nearly 35 years his junior...
...position to be choosy. At 41, she had appeared in only one previous film (a supporting part in Robert Altman's Thieves Like Us) and, indeed, had dropped out of acting almost entirely after making a bright start in television in the late 1950s. Married to Jerry Bick, an agent turned producer, she had devoted most of her time to raising two sons, who are now teenagers. Forman cast her, he says, "on instinct." He liked her "peculiar detachment, her removal...
...envy: "I don't agree with everything he writes, but in this particular case the guy's really get something." Mr. Hammarskjold, Mr. Eisenhower. Mr. Dulles, and Mr. Yovicsin receive their salaries in the same kind of coin. We all criticize them (from the safe purlieus of the Hayes-Bick) and preach of what we would de in their brain-puzzling jobs. But they are the men with guts enough to try. If they succeed in then chosen work they become heroes; if they fan they are forgotten overnight. But at least they have done their very best...
...will admit that I did not come back to Cambridge this year expecting too much in the way of street liberation. Sure enough, the Harvard Trust had bricked up its front windows, the Bick was gone forever, and the male chauvinists were out in droves. I'd been back no less than three days, when a kid walked up to me in the street and said, "Hey, are you married?" "No," I said, icily. "Well then," he demanded, giving...