Word: cawdor
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SOMEHOW THOUGH, it is as if Tynan and Polanski are ashamed of their conventionalism, and almost periodically there is an effort to remind us that what we are watching is, as promised, something strange and new. So the Thane of Cawdor's hanging is presented in full view, and Lady Macbeth sleepwalks in the nude. And where Shakespeare chose to let Macbeth die discreetly off stage, Polanski decapitates him in the middle of the wide screen and follows the head, rolling down steps...
...Like its U.S. cousin, the chickadee, Britain's tit has been taught to relish the meat of coconuts hung on a garden tree.) One Times reader, the bird-loving Countess of Cawdor, took a more ominous view of the matter. "Could it be," she mused darkly, "that it is we ourselves whose mad behavior has affected the tits...
...broad or even Shakespearean Scots the witches talked, but operatic Italian. They hailed him as "Macbetto, di Glamis Sire! . . . Macbetto, di Candor Sire! . . . Macbetto, di Scozia Re!". He was Macbeth, Thane of Glamis, Thane of Cawdor, King of Scotland-and hero of the opera by Giuseppe Verdi which was last given in Manhattan in 1850. This Mediterranean Macbeth, revived by Mrs. Lytle Hull's New Opera Company (TIME, Oct. 27), made a stirring music drama. Able Fritz Busch conducted...
...faced Robinson Jeffers, almost as much famed in the U. S. for doing his writing in a stone tower, built by himself, over-looking California's Carmel Bay, as for his violent free-verse narratives and black-diamond lyrics in Tamar, Roan Stallion, The Women at Point Sur, Cawdor, et al. Jeffers' latest book, Such Counsels You Gave to Me, is predominantly in his prophetic vein. Its title-poem is a fast-moving narrative of a student's sick return from premedical school to the farm of his swinish father and mother. In an atmosphere supercharged with...
...soil that I dig up here [wrote Jeffers of Cawdor and Other Poems] to plant trees or lay foundation stones, is full of Indian eavings, seashells and flint scrapers. . . . Not only generations but races too drizzle away so fast, one wonders the more urgently what it is for. . . ." Poet Jeffers has already shown how, against the desert western American landscape, the characters of his imagination, impelled by Greekish lusts, drizzle themselves away. In Thurso's Landing he writes his most native American, least Greekish tragedy, leaving sexual perversion almost entirely out. Its terrors are more Amerindian than Greek...