Word: critics
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Louise Bogan, Manhattan poet-critic (for the New Yorker), moved into the Library of Congress' chair of poetry (term : one year; duties: comfortably vague), succeeding Southern Agrarian Poet-Critic-Novelist Robert Penn Warren (Night Rider...
...most ambitious sculptural scheme of modern times was rising last week in Oslo's Frogner Park. It was the life work of Norway's leading sculptor (and eccentric), Gustav Vigeland, who died in 1943, aged 74. Not since Michelangelo, claimed one critic, had a sculptor chiseled such a forest of figures-over 100 separate versions of the human form, in granite and bronze, standing, reclining, cavorting, caressing, all over some 190 grassy acres. Vigeland simply ignored the Nazi invaders, and they let him go on with his sculpture. The work took 40 years to complete, cost Norwegian taxpayers...
When Producer Firth Shephard begged her to take Arsenic on tour to get away from the bombs, she murmured: "Where do you suggest we start, dear - Dover?" When crusty Critic James Agate saluted her with "You are still the second most beautiful woman on the English stage," she purred: "That's quite a compliment, from the second-best critic in England." Once, leafing through an album, she came across a picture, taken ten years before, of a much younger rival actress. She studied it a moment, then sighed: "My, my, hasn't she aged...
...look at the world from his Cornish window." Q put what he saw into stately poems, rolling ballads, romances, respect ful essays on Shakespeare and the ancients. Occasionally he published lectures which he felt were colored by a "colloquial style" - though one critic complained that the nearest thing in them to a colloquialism was "the repeated intrusion of the word 'Gentlemen.'" As dean of British belles-lettres, Q was not popular with the younger poets, whom he carefully omitted from the revised Oxford Book of 1940 and attacked as dispirited pessimists ("What are they for he cried...
Since the day Woollcott scrawled I AM SICK at a radio forum, and was carried out to die of a cerebral hemorrhage, his friends and enemies have tried to explain what manner of man he was. Some may agree with Critic Edmund Wilson's verdict: "In the days of totalitarian states and commercial standardization, he did not hesitate to assert himself as a single, unique human being." Others may ponder Woollcott's raging scream, made when a tactless lecture-chairman referred to his youthful success in female roles: "Look at me, boys and girls; half god, half woman...