Word: foreworded
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...colors done in the between-wars period reflect Grosz's deep pessimism as he watched the wavering fall of the Weimar Republic, with Hitler waiting in the wings of history. "Once you have glimpsed these corrosive portraits, these street and bedroom scenes," writes Author Henry Miller in a foreword, "you will never forget them...
...should-or will-provide the support? The authors themselves do not offer any substantive recommendation beyond pointing out that governments at all levels provide less than 4% in the way of subsidies; the rest is contributed by corporate and private philanthropy. In a foreword to the report, Twentieth Century Fund Director August Heckscher reasons that the annual federal appropriations for the arts-$8.5 million-is "disproportionately low, will be quite hopelessly inadequate if it is not at least doubled within the next five years...
Only a sociologist, perhaps, is equipped to digest the mountains of raw data that Lewis' technique produces, to assay the yards of tape, the stenographic interviews, the conscientious catalogues of someone's wardrobe, someone else's orange-crate kitchen shelf. In a foreword, Lewis makes an effort to summarize, for non-sociologists, the book's message. In most ways, this summary is more successful and more illuminating than the ensuing panorama of unbridled...
This book, though at times tedious, heaps a hillock of fresh laurels on Balzac's grave. André Maurois, an old hand at literary biographies (Shelley, Byron, Dickens, Dumas, Hugo, Proust), disavows that intention. "This is a life of Balzac, not a critical study," he says in a foreword and, having passed his 80th year, announces that it is the last biography he will write. Nevertheless, Prometheus is strewn with the kind of judgments that a disciple makes at the feet of the master: "A super-novelist," "the greatest novelist of the century." Balzac's very faults become...
...translation in 1937 fell upon an indifferent market (he had yet to write Lolita, which was to make him famous). Most of the copies of Despair remained in the London publisher's custody; in 1940 a Luftwaffe bomb reduced them to confetti. Nabokov explains all this in a foreword to this revised translation-also his own -and enters his usual caveat against reading anything into the book that isn't there: "Despair, in kinship with the rest of my books, has no social comment to make, no message to bring in its teeth...