Word: cocteau
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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They became inseparable. Alice cooked, typed manuscripts, fended off the unwanted, did promotions and chatted up the wives and significant others of famous men, including Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S. Eliot, Guillaume Apollinaire, Jean Cocteau and Pablo Picasso. Alice was "Pussy" to Gertrude; Gertrude was "Lovey" to Alice. And if out walking for a while with a friend, Gertrude would say, "We must be getting back to Alice. If I am away from her long, I get low in my mind." Discussing homosexuality, Stein once told Hemingway that men were disgusted after sex together but "in women...
Stupidity is one of my favorite subjects. "It is always amazing," Jean Cocteau wrote, "no matter how often one encounters it." Like sleep, stupidity is a universal, surreal and mysterious phenomenon, a brownout, the mind passing through a tunnel. Sometimes stupidity is hilarious; most of the world's jokes are told by one ethnic group about the stupidity of another ethnic group. In its sinister forms, stupidity turns up as evil's incompetent half brother--evil without supernatural prestige. The "Evil Empire" was, in a more practical sense, the stupid empire; systemic stupidity, not evil or good, brought the Soviet...
DIED. JEAN MARAIS, 84, swashbuckling French screen idol of the '40s and '50s; in Cannes, France. Marais got his break as the beast in the 1946 film Beauty and the Beast, co-directed by his longtime lover, the artist Jean Cocteau. A wildly popular pinup for women and men alike, the actor starred in 70 movies...
...accident that she became associated with the modern movement that included Diaghilev, Picasso, Stravinsky and Cocteau. Like these artistic protagonists, she was determined to break the old formulas and invent a way of expressing herself. Cocteau once said of her that "she has, by a kind of miracle, worked in fashion according to rules that would seem to have value only for painters, musicians, poets...
...death: half a million people, the biggest funeral attendance since the death of Napoleon, followed his cortege to the freshly deconsecrated Pantheon, a building he detested and compared to a sponge cake. There he still lies. "Victor Hugo was a madman who thought he was Victor Hugo," bitched Jean Cocteau some decades later. So might a chihuahua fix its tiny fangs in the ankle of a bull elephant...