Word: fleshed
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...assessing the political climate in Eastern Europe is to apply what might be called the rule of skin: the extent to which a regime tolerates the exposure of female flesh often indicates the future direction of its cultural and sometimes even political policies. Thus, depending upon the varying fortunes of hard-lining and liberal factions-and the tolerance of the highly puritanical Soviets-hemlines may be permitted to rise thigh-high and then suddenly be ordered lowered. In nightclubs, breasts and bellies are alternately bared and covered up as a regime gyrates between bursts of almost Western-style liberalism...
...bits of metal, coins, glass, trading tokens and pottery. Although metal, unlike the other objects, encrusts with soil as it degenerates, it is identifiable by its density and bright color in the soil. If the soil is damp enough, organic material--leather, insects and their eggs, seeds, rope, wood, flesh, grass and flowers, cloth, animal and human feces--remains fresh and preserved. Non-organic finds, pottery and bones, are washed by the diggers, who quickly learned that potwashing with a toothbrush and cold water is no privilege. Organic finds are cleaned, repaired and otherwise conserved by the research unit...
...fixes sin symbolically in a way strangely inorganic to her tale, but organic to the terror of sin and hell and the devil and the apocalypse which are the common denominators of her characters' psyches. These "fixes" themselves are apocalyptic, perversely so. As the "A" is burned into the flesh over Dimmesdale's heart in Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, Mrs. May's heart in "Greenleaf" is gored by the bull that her handyman, Greenleaf, cannot keep penned...
...long camera track at floor level passing under the opened legs of the chorus line. The film degenerates into travesty, extending the traditional fascination with bodies as clockwork. You can see just how repulsive it really is--especially when the bodies are magnified on the screen in overwhelming flesh-color...
...James belatedly coming to terms with possible sins of neglect in the 1894 suicide of the minor novelist Constance Fenimore Woolson, who had loved him? Edel leaves the question as just that. But it is a question that puts flesh upon a man too often misconstrued as disembodied intellect...