Word: hovels
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Such apparent indecision on the director's part knocks the audience off balance. It doesn't help that Cain chooses the very middle of Act III--right before Lear enter's Poor Tom's hovel--for his intermission; the mounting horror in the theater suddenly dissipates when you buy your "Jamaica Cola" in the lobby, and it's difficult to take Lear's self-dramatizing declamation right after a desultory intermission conversation, or a trip to the rest rooms. Thus such atrocities as the general guffaw that followed Lear's "Didst thou give all to thy daughters?" last Thursday night...
...education, they have settled for poverty-level employment at best-and in all too many instances, no job at all. By working ten hours a day, six days a week, an ambitious woman might earn about $75 per month, scarcely enough to survive in a wooden and tin-can hovel, let alone support her children. At the same time, the peasants contribute endlessly to a stunningly high birth rate (37.1 per thousand). Thousands of parents are forced to cast their offspring out like rubbish...
...barely be glimpsed from the interstate highway or sensed from 35,000 ft. To be sure, the view from Bedroom A or the dome car exposes every automobile graveyard, garbage dump, trailer park, parking lot, drive-in, burger joint, shopping mall, sewage plant, forsaken factory, slum and rural hovel in the unwritten guidebook of desecrated America. Its obverse, as the Crescent weaves its whistling way south toward summer, is a varied, often startlingly beautiful landscape of feathery woods and forests, roses and rhododendrons, pastures and cornfields, laced with urgent streams and dreaming lakes. The earth turns from New Jersey silt...
From time immemorial-or at least since the first U.S. census was taken in 1790-the head of household has been identified for every house, hovel, plantation, apartment, coop, condominium, igloo and wigwam to which an intrepid census taker could wend...
...Manchester might be called the cradle of the Industrial Revolution were it not that more than half the working-class children born there a century ago died before the age of five. Under Manchester's pall of smoke, pale families shuffled away their lives between cotton mill and hovel. Bad air, bad food, bad laws, monotony and danger were the workers' common lot. The din of machinery was a ceaseless taunt that whatever skill remained in their hands was irrelevant...