Word: deadly
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...spirit of Geneva dead? "The Soviet leaders would like to have at least the appearance of cooperative relations with the Western nations. [But] they are not yet ready to create the indispensable conditions for a secure peace . . . They have seriously set back the confidence that the free world can justifiably place on Soviet promises . . . However, it does seem that they do not want to revert to their earlier reliance on threats and invective. In that respect the spirit of Geneva still survives...
...restaurant, the Grahams overheard someone saying that a plane had crashed. Unable to get any detailed information at the airport, they drove home. The radio confirmed their apprehensions: Flight 629 had crashed 32 miles north of Denver. Mrs. King and all 43 others aboard the DC-6B were dead. "We finally heard his mother's name on the radio," Gloria reported, "and Jack just collapsed completely...
Berlin-born George Grosz, 62, is no newcomer to scenes of horror. It has saturated his work, from his earliest sketches of World War I's mutilated and dead to such latter-day oils as The Pit (opposite), done in 1946 and now a public favorite in the Wichita (Kans.) Art Museum. A Little Yes and a Big No, the title of Grosz's autobiography, sums up his attitude to life. But though his little yes in the years since 1932, when he came to the U.S., has produced some pleasant, classic nudes and some sunlit passages...
This book qualifies as the German Naked and the Dead on the literary principle of silt by association. Author Böll, 37, known to U.S. readers for Acquainted with the Night (TIME, Oct. 4, 1954), lacks the power Norman Mailer showed in his first novel, but he wallows in the same mud-and-tears and reaches the same inevitable conclusion, i.e., war is a dirty, futile business. Adam has no heroes, only victims. The time is 1944; the place, principally occupied Hungary, as the mighty Wehrmacht comes apart at the tank sprockets. A panoramic miniaturist, Author...
...last to die falls screaming on his mother's doorstep. Having spent seven years as an infantryman with the German army, Author Böll writes knowingly and well of the stench and strain of war. But whenever the underlying self-pity shows through the chinks in his dead-pan mask, he seems bent not only on living the war again but also on losing it again...