Word: flatted
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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JOHN CLELAND was a luckless little hack who in 1748, destitute and desperate, scribbled Fanny Hill or Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure for a flat fee of 20 guineas. He went on to become an inept philologist, ducked creditors much of his life, and died aged and unsung. If the poor fellow were only alive today, he could be a Big Writer, for critics on both sides of the Atlantic have acclaimed his ability to describe repetitive fornication with elegance and grace. He could wear hand-sewn Italian loafers, sell his still unwritten books to the paperbacks...
...creature of the night, he spends most afternoons lolling about his four-room furnished flat in London, playing records, sipping Scotch, chattering on the telephone, often with his good friend Erik Bruhn, who, he says, is "the only dancer who has anything to show me that I don't already know." He uses the phone like a postcard, calling dancer friends around the world, chitchatting in fluent, slightly accented English. When visitors arrive, he will emerge wearing high, tan moccasins, skintight, sky-blue pants and flowing fuchsia shirt. Scattered about the living room are effects that mark the mystery...
Cutting his engines back to a cozy 5,200 r.p.m., Aronow sashayed over the glassy Bahama flats at a steady 55 knots, crossed the finish line in 3 hrs. 19 min. 36 sec.-slicing 45 sec. off the race record. "I could have made it in three hours flat," shrugged Aronow, "the sea was so calm." So calm, in fact, that 007 still showed the dirty footprints that somebody had left on her bow back in Miami. Even at 66 knots, 007 had not churned up enough spray to wet the deck...
Circle of Love. The doe-eyed young wife (Jane Fonda) glances at the would-be lover who has lured her to his flat. "Alfred, if you really love me, you won't keep me here," she murmurs, but her look belies her words. With frail remonstrations, she has already removed her hat, veil and gloves. Only moments remain until everything else comes...
When Vadim tires of treating sex as a naughty joke, he pads episodes with excursions into screwball farce. Playwright Jean Anouilh's scenario seldom seems funny, perhaps because the laughs are lost in the dubbed English version. Frequent close-ups make accurate lip synchronization impossible, and the flat, disembodied voices set up a sound barrier. It is a bit like watching dancers whirl through a Viennese waltz while the band plays Yankee Doodle...