Word: brilliant
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...their neighbors' stern Calvinist ways. "Sexual intercourse," he wrote, "was, under all circumstances, a sin. Marriage was not a mitigation so much as a kind of license of mis behavior, and we were free from the countervailing influences of movies, television, and John O'Hara." After a not particularly brilliant high school career, Galbraith entered Ontario Agricultural College at Guelph, "not only the cheapest but probably the worst college in the English-speaking world." Starting off in animal husbandry, he wrote his Bachelor's thesis in economics, reasoning that "if the Depression continued, there would be a great demand...
...THIRD POLICEMAN, by Flann O'Brien. A brilliant Joycean romp through the nether world, written by the late Irish novelist in 1940 and now published in the U.S. for the first time...
Until recently, that is. In 1962 Leonard Bernstein began programming his works in New York Philharmonic concerts and spurred wider interest through a series of brilliant recordings. By 1965, the centennial of Nielsen's birth, his music was nudging into the general repertory. The number of Nielsen recordings on the U.S. market jumped from three in 1960 to 35 at the end of 1967; last year alone, 16 were issued. Today he is a "new" discovery who, like Mahler and Ives, appeals to this eclectic era by combining the breadth of the 19th century symphony with the experimental spirit...
Died. Tsougouharu Foujita, 81, Japanese-born painter who settled in France; of cancer; in Zurich. An eccentric off canvas as well as on, Foujita reached Paris in 1913 in purple morning coat and pith helmet, went on to hobnob with the brilliant and the bizarre in the Montmartre of the '20s. He painted cats by the thousands and almost as many catlike women, achieving the first real fusion of Oriental brushwork and Western oils. He topped off his career in 1966 with a set of giant frescoes for a specially built chapel near Rheims, hoping cheerfully to "atone...
...booby traps is that this is yet another one of those opaque novels of the tired "new wave" school. J.M.G. Le Clézio's writing is in turn dense and simple and occasionally brilliant. The ideas are old hat but earnestly pressed: God is dead, man lives simultaneously in an ugly asphalt jungle (outside) and an increasingly demented and purposeless state of mind (inside...