Word: corso
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...patches at the elbows. With him were two other shabbily dressed Beatniks. One was Ginsberg's intimate friend, a mental-hospital attendant named Peter Orlovsky, 25, who writes poetry (I talk to the fire hydrant, asking: "Do you have bigger tears than I do?"); the other was Gregory Corso, 28, a shaggy, dark little man who boasts that he has never combed his hair-and never gets an argument. Corso, also a poet, will be remembered for his lines...
Members of the Wedding. In Lagonegro, Italy, the father, two brothers, two uncles and an aunt of Giuseppina Corso were sentenced to jail terms ranging up to a year for kidnaping Giuseppina's fiance -who had repeatedly put off the wedding date -and locking him in a room with Giuseppina while they stood guard outside the door all through the night...
This first novel is the year's most beautifully written love story. Set in Budapest in the lost era between the two world wars, it begins with a casual pickup on the Danube Corso and ends in heartbreak as poignant as the last act of Camille. The book, like the play, is about a girl with tuberculosis, but Author Boros' Dame aux Camélias is no languishing tragedienne drowning in a sea of self-sacrifice. Instead, young Lalla is self-sufficient, cheeky, preoccupied not with "how to live but how to stay alive...
...particularly unusual. Gerald Gillespie's story might have appeared in the Advocate, as could have D. J. Hughes' poem, Mallarme at Tournon. In terms of quality, the poetry in the current issue is rather unrewarding, especially compared with the last issue which included Allen Grossman, Stephen Booth and Gregory Corso. Canticle for Simonetta by Richard Sewell is uneven, at times forced, and fails to achieve an essential opposition. What is left is a good idea unsuccessfully worked out and one or two lines like "Beauty alone is less than life should wear...
Peter Junger's choral poem The Magic Circle, which proceded Corso's play, did not measure up. James Shucter's direction was extremely deft, and together with the precise and sometimes beautiful delivery of Peggy Polk, Nancy Curtis, Keith Gardiner, and Harold Scott, exploited well what the poem had to offer. But to me this was not a great deal. Junger's language is often musical and thrilling, but his images of fallen glory (grey Byzantium, the sleeping emperor, druids) and modern confusion (herds of taxis, flame-winged planes, departing stars) seemed little more than trite. At times...