Word: hating
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Until the appearance of "Crossfire" a few months age, Hollywood carefully avoided the subject of anti-semitism. "Crossfire" was a story of violence and hate that was hardly close to the experience of most movie audiences. "Gentleman's Agreement," the second outspoken attack on anti-semitism, shows the thing in almost every one of its usual forms: The hero, who for a few months pretends to be a Jew, discovers it in his finance as well as in a hotel manager, and in Jews themselves as well as in Christians...
...well-to-do semi-literary people who inhabit New York. Gregory Peek, John Garfield, Dorothy McGurie, and Celeste Holm are always completely aware of what is in the characters they are pretending to be. Perhaps they are a little too sensitive to the picture's peculiar brand of hate, but to them it is a casual frequenter of homes and business offices rather than a satanie mouster...
...outgrow a strait-laced start. Barrett's strict parents had talked Latin at dinner, limiting their conversation almost entirely to religion. In 1923, when he was 15, Barrett went to work in a furniture factory and subsequently carved hundreds of Chippendale chair legs. Says he: "Oh, how I hate Chippendale!" There was no Chippendale influence in his squatly intense Stalemate, which looked like a couple of ancients so intent on a game of chess that their bodies knottily reflected all the possible moves on the board...
Each of the three stories is at least as good and as readable as any that have appeared in the Advocate since the war. "What a Man Has to Do," by Harold Fleming, is a restrained tale of violence and race hatred that has no direct message. Prejudice and hate press harder and harder on Berry, the Negro Army sergeant, until he "flies apart like the works of an over wound clock." This is a real short story, so seldom seen hitherto around here, with real characters in real situations...
...that pleased him. Then, after myopically surveying the scene over his spectacles, he began his hasty sketches on odd-shaped scraps of paper from his notebook. His watercolor sketches were meant mostly to be notes for his fastidious and stilted oils, over which he labored long and hard ("I hate the act of painting. . . . It is like grinding my nose off!"). A few of the oils rode into the Royal Academy on the coattails of the Pre-Raphaelites. No coattails can carry them...