Word: bretons
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...thousands of Scottish Highlanders who came out to Canada in the late 18th and early 19th Centuries, the northern end of Nova Scotia's Cape Breton Island looked like home. They searched no farther. To Cape Breton's coves, its evergreen hills and misty glens, they transplanted names like Beinn Bhreagh. Lochaber, Tantallon and Skir Dhu. The Macdonalds, MacIntoshes, MacLeods, and members of many another Scottish clan settled down to raise sheep, fish for cod and till the soil...
...through the years, they have kept the traditions of their ancestors. They still use oxen to work their farms. Nearly half of them still speak Gaelic. A sign proclaiming "Cead Mile Failte" (a hundred thousand welcomes) greets visitors at Keltic Lodge, famed tourist spot near the entrance to Cape Breton's Highlands National Park...
...Brittany, the leader was Frenchman René Vietto, the favorite. But on the tough St. Brieuc-Caen lap, a countryside which U.S. troops also found tough going three years ago, Vietto tired. Almost half of the entrants had dropped out. Up moved Italian Pierre Brambilla and Breton Jean Robic...
...been 23 years since Poet Andre Breton rattled the saucers in Left Bank cafes with his "First Manifesto of Surrealism," a compound of Freudianism and calculated nonsense. In those days, Marcel Duchamp (who drew U.S. catcalls in 1913 with his Nude Descending the Staircase) got high critical acclaim when he filled a birdcage full of marble cubes, stuck in a thermometer, and entitled it Why Not Sneeze? Duchamp and Breton had worked together for months assembling the screwy props for last week's screwy show...
...Poet Breton, who says that Surrealism (like himself) is now disillusioned with the Communism it once embraced, had a new manifesto. Its theme: "Dreams and revolutions should enter a pact. To dream of a revolution is . . . to carry it out with double strength. . . . Surrealism is what will be." Observers discounted the big talk. Said one: "After the gas chambers, those heaps of bones and teeth and shoes and eyeglasses, what is there left for the poor Surrealists to shock us with...