Word: horning
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...world map the Territory of the Afars and Issas resembles a wart on the Horn of Africa. In reality, it is not much more attractive. Most of its 9,000 square miles (roughly the size of New Hampshire) is desert, a desolate mixture of searing sand, thorny scrub and boulder-strewn hills. Its estimated population of 200,000 is split between two unharmonious tribes, the nomadic Afars and the more industrious Issas, and about 90% of the inhabitants are illiterate. Djibouti, the territory's capital and only city of any size, has some of Africa's worst slums...
Vocally, Bennett sounds like a rather reedy clarinet next to the French-horn sound of the older crooners, but he compensates for this with a cunning sense of phrasing that has made him a favorite of many musicians (among those who have happily accompanied him are Count Basic, Woody Herman and Duke Ellington). On a ballad like It Was You, he has a knack of letting the song rise lazily above him like cigar smoke. On standards like Mimi and End of a Love Affair, he is in the jazzy, hold-your-hat tradition. No less an authority than Frank...
...speak with Yiddish locutions? My audience isn't exclusively Jewish. Neither are my characters. Not any more, any way. Matter of fact, I still recall a black man pointing to a figure in my first play, Come Blow Your Horn, and insisting, "That's my father...
...WHAT REALLY makes Fogarty, and consequently the novel is the writing. Perfectly pitched to the man it describes, it matches his every antic with page after page of verbal histrionics. One imagines writing with a harmonica in his mouth and a ball horn plugged into his typewriter. The novel bounces, gyrates and bucks like another coaster car along the precarious edge of the reader's tolerance, never quite falling off. For whenever the author leans too far in the direction of obscenity-which is frequently--he bounces right back with a metaphor or reference to feed any appetite Jackie Kennedy...
...rest of America. In short, given the temper of the times, Clumly seems bound for a caricature pig-of-the-week award, or else a New Centurion's badge for meritorious service. Instead, Gardner pits poor old Clumly against the Sunlight Man, a brilliant existential philosopher, French horn player, gadfly, madman, magician, murderer, idealist and Shavian exponent of Babylonian religion and the new consciousness. But when the smoke and the rhetoric and some cadavers have been cleared away, there stands Clumly (much humbled and wiser) as, by God, some kind of confused, committed, ignorant, rumpled, preposterous champion of Western...