Word: connors
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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EVERYTHING THAT RISES MUST CONVERGE, by Flannery O'Connor. The last stories of a powerful Southern writer who died last year at 39. She dramatizes her ever-recurring themes: sin and salvation, death and rebirth, and the Georgia earth she knew so well...
...applicants started forming. Franklin D. Roosevelt Jr., boosted by the endorsement of Harlem's Adam Clayton Powell, said he was available-"if the right people ask me." Behind Roosevelt stood City Council President Paul R. Screvane, Comptroller Abraham D. Beame, Queens District Attorney Frank D. O'Connor and Manhattan District Attorney Frank S. Hogan...
Mary Flannery O'Connor had the luck of the Irish, or seemed to. At 25 she was pretty, witty, and had published fiction in some of the best little magazines. At 26, she came down with an incurable form of lupus erythematosus, a correlative of arthritis that softened the bones in her legs and lower face, eventually reduced her to crutches and permanent debility. But Author O'Connor had the stubbornness of the Irish, too. During the next 13 years, passed mostly in seclusion on her mother's farm near Milledgeville, Ga., she wrote unremittingly. Before...
...Back. A lifelong Catholic, Author O'Connor wrote exclusively of ultimate things: sin and salvation, death and rebirth, the old Adam and the new life. But she was a poet of region as well as religion, and in this new collection of nine stories, which belong among the finest examples of American Gothic, she celebrates in Southern guises he old violent dialogue of the demonic and the divine...
Meaning in the Depths. Author O'Connor was a verbal magician whose phrases flamed like matches in the dark, revealing a face in a flash (a child's features contorted with grief into "a puzzle of small red lumps"), a life in a single insight ("a sniveler after the ineffable"). But the motivation of character and the imitation of life did not finally interest Author O'Connor. "The meaning of a story," she once wrote, "begins at a depth where these things have been exhausted...