Word: bodiless
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Instead, the edge of the alphabet proves to be a nebulous psychological limbo whose inhabitants are all the lonely, half-crippled, emotional misfits who exist on the pallid fringes of the everyday world. It is presided over by a weird, bodiless, placeless woman, Thora Pattern, from whose papers the story purports to be taken. Roving back and forth in time, to and fro in her subjects' minds, Thora Pattern records the edge-of-the-alphabet lives of three people seen on a boat trip from New Zealand and in London after...
Procession of Sounds in the Night, done in 1943, was an imaginative effort to give shapes to bodiless little noises, to picture 'the creatures you thought might make the sounds you could not identify." The two pictures together seemed to prove what Graves himself denies: that both whispers in the grass and the roaring of machinery can be beautiful, in totally different ways. Vachel Lindsay, an earlier American romantic, once put the point in verse...
...five saxes play with savage bite or else hum in their eerie, split harmonies behind a pagan trumpet solo; the three trombones clip off their own high-swinging ensemble passages; and the four trumpets blaze away with such ferocity that the effect becomes strangely airy and bodiless. But the chief reason for all the internal excitement is the Duke's new drummer, Sam Woodyard. He sits, lean and still, behind his battery, neatly punctuating every phrase, coming as close as any man could to playing a tune on his four side drums and three cymbals (he actually squeezes pitch...
...memories Grosz has tried to drown in the oil of his canvases: a bloated soldier from his war years, carrying his own amputated leg; a drunken alcoholic child; Grosz's mother, killed in World War II air raid; an opulent nude being clawed by a bodiless arm; gibbets full of dancing figures; and brooding over all the specter Death and a blood-smeared female Europe, satiated to the point of idiocy. Grosz, who pulls no punches, says grimly of his bloody Mother Europe: "She is satisfied. She's eaten too much...
...also a one-dimensional effect; the first Gothic glaziers had neither the inclination nor the techniques for achieving a pictorial illusion of space. And, seen close-to, the drawing is childishly crude. The figures are as bodiless as shadows stopped upon a screen; they gesture with puppetlike stiffness. For all that, they look wonderfully alive, shining through the blaze of color like prophets in a fiery furnace...