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...novel or a poem. He could be holding forth at a cafe, and however brilliantly or passionately he talked, his pen would begin doodling as if it had a brain of its own. "How many times," said his friend, Novelist Theophile Gautier, "have we not watched with astonished gaze the transformation of a blot of ink or coffee on the back of an envelope into a landscape, a castle, a seascape of amazing originality...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Art: He Also Wrote Novels | 4/26/1963 | See Source »

With his light on, Aznavour has discovered that in life I'amour rarely rhymes with toujours, and he tirelessly embroiders this theme in his songs. "What could I have been thinking of? Was it with you I fell in love?" sings a disillusioned Aznavour husband. "I gaze at you in sheer despair and see your mother standing there." Other songs deal with fading Don Juans, wifely nagging, and Who Gets Lolita When Humbert Humbert Dies? "I have no intellectual colleagues," Aznavour says from his artistic pinnacle, "but my rapport is with everyone...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Composers: Tu Paries, Charles | 4/12/1963 | See Source »

Alone, Mother Courage harnesses herself to the canteen cart and arduously, tortuously circles the stage. Brecht would say that she is determined to keep "getting her cut," come what may, but audiences are perversely affected by the scene and their blurred gaze tells them that Brecht wrote into it some quintessential gritty gallantry...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Intellectual Firestorm | 4/5/1963 | See Source »

...last poem in the collection provides a striking contrast to "During the Eichman Trial." "A Solitude" dissects a fleeting emotion: the poet sees a blind man, and is overcome with a feeling of "strange joy/to gaze my fill at a stranger's face." It is a remarkable poem, and it illustrates Miss Levertov's talent to perceive and see meaning in the seemingly inconsequential aspects of our lives...

Author: By R. ANDREW Beyer, | Title: San Francisco Poetry | 3/7/1963 | See Source »

...dancing, drinking and casual lovemaking, the festival has a bittersweet air. After their nightlong revels, Budapest's residents pick their way to work along pock-marked sidestreets, gaze absently at the stripped-bark scaffolding on buildings gutted by Soviet tanks during the 1956 rebellion, queue up for the consumer goods that always seem to be in short supply. The Red army still stays prudently hidden in its camps ringing Budapest, and the hated AVH secret police have been replaced by a less conspicuously murderous bunch known as BKH, but nobody is enthusiastic about the "permissiveness" shown lately by Premier...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Hungary: Gay until Tomorrow | 2/22/1963 | See Source »

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