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...mind from predictability of both plot and retribution. The end finds Rabbit and Janice joining up once again with the cold, metallic precision of a lunar landing vehicle docking with its command module after a mission. "O.K.?" is the last word of the novel. It is a taciturn echo of space talk, but it is also a grounded, middle-aged Updike saying, in effect, "What did you expect...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Cabbage Moon | 11/15/1971 | See Source »

Even though Twigs ends on a note of high comedy (for Furth has arranged his acts so that their verbal and visual humor overtakes their early bleakness, a ploy more justifiable dramatically than thematically), it leaves behind an echo of resignation that has just barely escaped despair. None of the daughters is quite the equal of the mother, although each is herself somehow tough enough to accept the increasingly limited possibilities life offers. But then, as Emily says. "If life were perfect, we wouldn't have to go through...

Author: By Gregg J. Kilday, | Title: Towards a Comedy of Lost Possibilities | 10/28/1971 | See Source »

...enormous and complicated. In the Loop, Chicago's downtown area, tall office buildings contain and amplify urban sounds like echo chambers so that the din occasionally reaches 90 decibels, enough to cause permanent damage to hearing in 10% of the people who might be exposed to it for eight hours a day. The slums, with their high population density and aging, ill-maintained automobiles, are often as noisy. Loudest of all is swinging Rush Street, where night after night the go-go clubs and rock bands blare out music measured at more than 115 decibels, the threshold of pain...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Environment: SSSHHICAGO | 10/11/1971 | See Source »

...countercultural cave-twelve feet high and 15 feet wide-has the virtue of eerie acoustics: a single guitar chord can echo for 15 seconds. It is an adventurous, unlikely place for a party, reminiscent of that late-show sewer epic, The Third Man. Some older Americans might say, reflexively, of the rock-loving young: "They belong in a sewer." But as one participant explained: "There's no other place we could get together like this without being hassled...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Nation: Going Underground | 9/20/1971 | See Source »

LIKE Shakespearean wraiths, liveried figures stalk the night-draped battlements, as drum rolls and trumpets echo to the sound of marching below. "Officers call!" barks the adjutant, and eight black-coated officers, swords tight against their shoulders, wheel in close formation across a floodlit field. "Sound attention!" and they come, the main body of six platoons, surging from beneath a darkened arcade. With all the pomp, panoply and flair that can be mustered, the most brilliantly executed military parade in the U.S. is under way. The spectacle is the weekly Friday-night retreat at the Marine barracks of Washington...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Washington: The Monks at Eighth and I | 8/9/1971 | See Source »

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