Word: fleshly
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Gurney, protagonist of John Beckman's The Winter Zoo. Gurney abandons his pregnant girlfriend in an Iowa delivery room and flees to Cracow to join his cousin Jane. Jane turns out to be a Mephistophelean temptress of the first order, and she schools Gurney in the pleasures of the flesh, turning his stay in Cracow into an all-hours, all-you-can-eat buffet of food, booze, art and piquantly incestuous sex. What makes the novel work is that Beckman's Cracow has two faces, comic and tragic. The city enables their excesses, but at the book's most chilling...
...piled more than a meter high, are now nothing but smoldering heaps of ash and fragmented bone. A blackened skull is all that remains of one; on the other a heat-shriveled thigh juts out, still attached to a cracked pelvis bone. Curiously, there is no odor of burnt flesh or hair. The bodies, in preparation for burning, have been dipped in the Ganges. "The holy river purifies all beings," says Papu, spitting betel juice from between blackened teeth. "That is why there is no odor...
...Written by Richard Lourie, a U.S. author and filmmaker who translated Sakharov's Memoirs into English, it is the first full biography of this multifaceted 20th century giant. Along with the facts of Sakharov's life, Lourie provides vivid historical and social details - some drawn from KGB files - that flesh out the story of an independent thinker in science and politics alike. Descended from a long line of Russian Orthodox priests, Sakharov was born, writes Lourie, into a family that valued "Russian and European culture, Christianity, patriotism, hard work, high ideals, modesty, courtesy, a quiet but implacable independence...
...taunting the cops with his macabre theatrical positioning of the bodies, growing more self-confident the longer Reichert couldn't find him. For the deeply religious detective, it was like a long journey through hell. Says Reichert: "I would come home after finding a 15-year-old girl, melting flesh off her face, body falling apart, the stench of rotting flesh--these are the memories that float...
...heard footsteps, then a loud voice: "You bastard!" Onizawa turned around to see two muscular young men rushing him. The shorter, stockier one swung an iron pipe at his head; Onizawa blocked it but the metal tore into his arm. A second blow ripped through his shirt and the flesh on his shoulder. For good measure, the taller guy kicked him so hard that Onizawa fell to the ground. The guy with the pipe then went for his stomach and his knee. "I thought they were going to kill me," Onizawa recalls. But a bicyclist came into view...