Word: enoch
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...Enoch Arden. Goodbyes also spawn rites of support. Shallow shipboard friendships can safely end with promises to meet again; everyone knows the promises need not be kept. At farewell parties for friends moving to distant places, "high praise and substantial offerings can be accorded, since there will be no chance for this level of giving to be established as the norm...
...look upon it as arrogance) and stiffen his supporters in their growing irritation with organized labor. Should Heath snap rather than bend-as did that other obstinate Prime Minister, Anthony Eden, in 1957-who would fill the vacuum? The Tory Party would never accept the fiery, rabble-rousing M.P. Enoch Powell. But his demagogy would exploit basic passions, for he personifies the fears, jealousies and hatreds of many British people to a frightening degree...
...work is a glue job rather than an organic entity. The authors took two of Beerbohm's stories, Enoch Soames and A.V. Laider, and awkwardly mixed Beerbohm in as a character among his own creations. In passages that are almost unrelated asides, they have Max as drama critic quoting himself on plays, players and playgoers. These comments lack the pithy bite of aphorisms, and as out-of-context fragments, they lose much of the slyly inflected wit that is one of the special pleasures of reading Beerbohm. The tone is wrong too. Clive Revill employs a voice and manner...
Prescient Palmist. Of the stories, Enoch Soames is the better one. Soames (Richard Kiley) is a minor minor poet pickled in absinthe who harbors a paranoiac conviction: people who ignore his slim volumes, The Ultimate Nil and Fungoids, are turning their backs on a late 19th century Milton. He desperately yearns to know posterity's judgment and makes a pact with the devil to spend a few hours 100 years hence in the library of the British Museum. There he finds that the brief and only mention of the name Enoch Soames is in a short story...
...vanguard of a rather queasy-making literary trend. Readers do, inevitably, identify with the assassin, and what he has, briefly, in his telescopic sights is a heroic and honored chief of state. General de Gaulle is dead, of course. Earlier this year, though, Harper & Row issued Who Killed Enoch Powell?, a thriller-mystery predicated on the murder of a British Member of Parliament, notoriously disliked as a racist, but very much alive. What titles will come next? Ho, Sweet Homicide? Tell Them Willy Brandt Was Here? Sunset on the Pedernales...