Word: hermit's
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...author compares her life with that of an anchorite hermit. In fact, she is anything but a hairshirt recluse. She smokes cigarettes. She drives a car. Like nature, she is sometimes guilty of repetition and a certain atrocious lushness:"Silver trees cut into the black sky like a photographer's negative" and "clouds slide by like a tablecloth whipped off a table." But sooner or later, a pilgrim who refuses to believe in progress, she cuts back to the bone. To an age hooked on novelty, variety and pluralism, her message is as clear as William Blake...
...bottles from the panting cooler, and if you encourage him he begins telling stories from the Bible, and talking in general about the state of the world. He believes that TV faked the moon landings. We react like Zarathustra, thinking to himself, could it be that this hermit, here in his woods, has not yet heard that God is dead? He paces and leans behind the counter: Ezekiel in the valley of the dry bones, you've red it, I know you have, how the Lord told Ezekiel to speak and then Ezekiel he spoke and the bones took...
...None of us would like to stick to the old fashions of the Hermit Kingdom" -referring to the nickname Korea acquired in past centuries when it deliberately sealed itself off from outside influences. Traditional weddings and funerals, which are costly affairs, have been simplified. Clothes have become increasingly Western and faddish...
Some accounts credit St. Thomas with converting Maloula to Christianity. Others ascribe the conversion to a passing hermit, a fervent Christian who was horrified to discover lascivious goings-on at a Roman bath in the village and cursed the place, thereby causing the bath to collapse over the heads of the libidinous bathers. A church now stands on the site of the baths...
Samaras is not the most easily approachable of men. His efforts seem governed by Gide's famous plea, "Do not understand me too quickly." Compared with many other New York artists his age (36), he is almost a hermit. He shuns the art-world circuit, living and working in a cluttered container of a brownstone apartment in Manhattan which, in its contents, resembles one of his own boxes. An ironic reclusiveness directs his talk. Conversations are apt to falter and go brown under that sharp gaze. This is part of a strategy common to Samaras' art as well...