Word: conceited
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Memoirs of a Geisha is crammed with wonderful sentences; Golden's language is almost overwhelming. He is fond of verbal special effects, and his prose reads almost like a poet's at times Image follows metaphor, which follow conceit, which follows simile. There is proliferation of "like" and "seemed and imaginative figures of speech are densely crammed together. Sometime Golden's images ring false--raindrop that hit "like quail eggs," a sky "extravagant with stars," a retired geisha "more terrified of fire than beer is of a thirst...
...literary conceit or is it an outing? The cover of the October Esquire proclaims that KEVIN SPACEY has a secret. The story opens by suggesting that the secret is that Spacey is gay, but goes on to say the real secret is that he's a movie star. (Gosh.) It could be seen as a smart-alecky way of writing an otherwise glowing account of Spacey's merits, but it irked the star's handlers. Spacey's agent, Brian Gersh, went so far as to suggest he would discourage anyone William Morris represents from working with Esquire, a statement others...
...these days, has nothing but ironic knowingness to replace this old-fashioned high-mindedness. And eventually one comes to miss the moral earnestness of an H.G. Wells and the substance it imparted to his fantasies. Evil (and, for that matter, good) should be something more than a spectacular design conceit. After the nice and not-nice E.T.s wow us with their first striking appearances, they have an obligation to grip us in slightly more profound ways. Although the cast, led by Bruce Willis and Milla Jovovich, tries hard, they don't make a deep impression. "Like everyone and everything else...
...players also recited three of Shakespeare's sonnets, but the well-chosen visual and dramatic elements they added made the poetry more than mere recitation. Catherine B. Steindler '98 performed Sonnet 18--"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"--using the simple conceit of a woman standing in front of a mirror. Henry D. Clarke '00 set his performance of Sonnet 138 ("When my love swears that she is made of truth/I do believe her, though I know she lies") in an intriguing tableau in which the speaker, in deshabille, addressed his sleeping lover. Only Marty R. Thiry...
Then it was too much. It took the media longer than expected to convince the nation that the O.J. Simpson trial was the newest racial battleground in America, but convince us they did. As if it were divine revelation, America unquestioningly accepted this ridiculous conceit to such an extent that it finally became true. After so many months of endless, shameless efforts at story-genesis by a media that needed more to report at the end of a day's testimony in the world's most boring soap opera than "a police detective testified about police detective work," America...