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...recognized in those terms), and last week, through heavy censorship, some of its dimensions could be measured. The 3,4OO-mile Yangtze and the 600-mile Hwai were at record levels, were spilling out across a region more than twice the size of Texas, where 160 millions dwell and half of China's rice crop is grown. Peking admitted that the floods surpassed China's Yangtze tragedy of 1931, when 140,000 were drowned and 10 million made homeless...
...Just Joe. In this setting dwell some of the most primitive white people in North America, the Gatineau mountaineers. They scratch out a meager living by farming and lumbering. Faith healers, seers and hermits abound among them. Families sometimes grow so big that parents run out of names. The woods are populated with brothers named Black Luke and Red Luke, Little Joe, Big Joe and Just...
According to Pyongyang radio, more than 700 Russian and European satellite technicians are already working in North Korea. Pyongyang propagandists dwell every day upon the affairs of the Soviet set: "Soviet Engineer Vandalenko is tirelessly restoring the Kim Chaik ironworks . . . Engineer Uburov is in charge at the Supung power plant, which is fast rising from the rubble...
There are, however, some pleasanter pictures of the beings who dwell in this lost country. The Dalai Lama, aged 16 when this film was made, looks pretty much like any other teen-ager dressed up for a masquerade. The common people seem better than their betters. As they stir their hot-buttered tea or plow the skyey pastures with their dolorous yaks, or swarm to Lhasa for their pageants, their faces are warm with the comfortable joy of creatures at home in their world...
Malraux and many like-minded intellectuals, writes Onimus, try to substitute art for God. "Malraux finds in art the justification for existence . . . He cannot dwell in nothingness; the absurdity of it catches him by the throat . . . He seized upon art when it appeared to offer an escape toward heaven . . . For Malraux, [art] succeeds the gods; it takes over from a faltering religion . . . Modern man . . . stripped of faith and hope, surrounds himself with [masterpieces], those ghosts who have successfully triumphed over time . . . For modern man, as Malraux sees him, museums are no longer collections, they are sanctuaries where, in a world...