Word: glimmered
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...tonk style on an Emory Cook record called The New Clavichord. The old-fashioned clavichord has a gentle tinkle, but partly through the recording technique, Camp gives such numbers as Wing and a Prayer and Cocktails for Two an ice-edged, splintered sound full of white fire and ghostly glimmer. In Slow Slow Blues he etches some wonderfully spidery lines. The sound is not for everybody, but Camp is convinced: "It brings out the contrapuntal lines. It lends itself to blues beautifully...
Cyprus: Even in this most rebellious of British possessions there was a glimmer of progress. Last week EOKA, the Greek Cypriot underground, offered to call off its two-year-old campaign of terrorism if Britain would free Archbishop Makarios, exiled spiritual and political leader of Cyprus' Greek population. In London Prime Minister Macmillan hastily called a special Cabinet meeting to consider this face-saving way out. Britain until now has insisted that Makarios himself must formally denounce EOKA terrorism...
...hard work and the hard dying. There is Sherman's army, on the eve of its march through Georgia, using up its issue of candles to create a festival of light, so that "for miles across the darkened countryside the glimmer and glitter of these little fires twinkled . . . and the men looked at the strange spectacle they were making and set up a cheer that went from end to end of the army." There is a Union soldier in besieged Chattanooga reflecting that the antagonisms between eastern and western Federal troops often seemed greater than those that separated North...
...that some critics seldom mention him ("It's as if they were embarrassed, or something"). His only comment on the Whitney Museum's great retrospective of his work, staged in 1950, was that the gallery always seemed crowded with pregnant women. Says he. with the faintest, iciest glimmer of a twinkle: "I guess they considered me a safe man to deal with...
...grief-stricken old man, slumped in a bedside chair in a San Juan hospital room, received word last week that he had won the 1956 Nobel Prize for Literature. The news brought no glimmer of joy to the white-bearded face of Poet Juan Ramon Jimenez. Honor, fame, and money ($38,633) no longer mattered; his wife of 40 years,"the inspiration for my whole work," as he once called her, was dying of cancer. He stood up and gently patted her hand. Then, reminded that the world expected him to say something for the occasion, he wrote...