Word: bier
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Whisky & Bier. As the novel begins, the intellectual quartet finds itself bereft. Leslie Braverman, a bona fide writer who published more than 100 articles that were read and discussed, has just died of a coronary at 40, and satellites are in a panic. For Leslie held perpetual open house, fed them ideas and patiently listened to theirs. He had integrity-"the way some people have b.o.," remembers one of the survivors emotionally. Leslie's wife also made herself available-and not just for talk...
...whisky, stopping at intermittent bars, where they are worsted by all the local Cyclops and Circes. Finally, they barge into the funeral parlor, snort, giggle and guffaw over the rabbi's sermon-obviously they knew Leslie so much better than the rabbi ever did. They file past the bier, peer in -whoops, the cadaver is not Leslie. Wrong funeral parlor...
...Josephine for the good of the state. Archduchess Marie Louise of Austria gave him the legitimate son he wanted; Josephine retired on a handsome pension to Malmaison. When she died at 50 in May 1814, after contracting a chill at an outdoor reception, 20,000 people filed past her bier and Paris was flooded with pamphlets hailing la bonne Josephine. Bonaparte was virtually the last to get the news. A valet clipped the story out of a Genoa newspaper and sent it to the former Emperor on Elba...
...mournful bells toll in the background, the long funeral procession of Capuchin friars marches slowly along the battlements. The huge corpse on the leading bier seems to exude dark passion even in death. The gloom lifts as the second bier passes, revealing a woman whose beauty shows through her burial shroud. At a distance, vengeful soldiers thrust a man into an iron cage and hoist him to the top of a tower for the birds to abuse...
...blocks outside the Capitol in such numbers that even at the rate of 6,000 an hour, there was no chance that those at the end of the line could get in before the funeral procession Monday morning. They never stopped. At 2 a.m., a wornan walked by the bier wheeling an infant asleep in a stroller. A blind man was led by the casket, his companion softly whispering a description of the scene. At 2:30 a.m., Jersey Joe Walcott, onetime heavyweight champion of the world, went by. He had waited eight hours in line...