Word: casuals
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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With those casual words to his disciples in the. year 399 B.C., Socrates went off to face the grave charges .that a disgruntled poet had brought against him: corrupting the youth of ancient Athens, impiety and practicing "religious novelties." The ensuing trial is still remembered as an epic defense of free speech and individual liberty, largely because of Plato's detailed account of it. But the trial site itself has long eluded archaeologists. Now, after nearly a century of digging in the heart of Athens, the search may finally be over...
...Owls, Barn"; "Prose, Purple"; "Prose, Annihilating." Under each heading come one or more literary quotations interspersed with Auden's comments. To anyone who has read Auden, the book reveals the sources of his poetry as fully and incisively as any autobiography could. It also provides the casual reader with some of the most provocative and diverse literary strolling in years...
...Blue. Though his speech-making about youth was conciliatory, a more casual remark about one young American was not. The lone student on President Nixon's new commission on campus disorder, Joseph Rhodes Jr., 22, a junior fellow at Harvard, set Agnew off like a fire bomb. Talking to a New York Times reporter, Rhodes wondered "if the President's and Vice President's statements are killing people." Agnew read the interview and demanded Rhodes' resignation. Rhodes, he said, has "a transparent bias that will make him counterproductive to the work of the commission...
Libby Meredith (Ingrid Bergman) is bored. Her professorial husband Roger (Fritz Weaver) is a pedant who sprinkles even casual conversation with chalk dust. On Roger's sabbatical, the Merediths flee New York for a Tennessee farm. But while Roger is examining constitutional law, Libby sets to work fracturing some commandments. For lurking in the barn is the local satyr, Will Cade (Anthony Quinn). "I'm a grandmother," protests Libby at first. "There's a lot of woman left in ya," grunts Will...
...days before the word and the condition were tired and devalued. Now his son, a TV critic and essayist, has written a wry and moving but far from fond memoir of his parents. He avoids the more impersonal roles of biographer or critic, as well as the casual stance of a raconteur with weighty names to drop. Instead, Exiles is a rare and minute accounting of growing up: the connections made and missed between parent and child...