Word: idyls
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...repairs, they miss its departure while sightseeing. The plane crashes. Listed as dead, they are free to make a new life far from Cotten's wife (Jessica Tandy) and son. For a while, until the past (and the Production Code) catches up with the lovers, life becomes an idyl in a palazzo. Renunciation finally comes not so much from themselves as from the prodding of other characters...
...Rumer Godden has cooked up a fresh batch of literature in it. As readers of her earlier novels (Black Narcissus, A Candle for St. Jude) may expect, the Godden brew is not much more than cambric tea, and though its prose has a refreshing bouquet and its flavor of idyl is cut by lemon slices of irony, the book is still a Tempest in a teapot. Author Godden gracefully recognizes the fact by calling her novel not a Tempest but A Breath...
Rudi Bing now thinks of his five years at Glyndebourne as the best of his life. The idyl was shattered by World War II. Glyndebourne shut up shop; Bing went to work in a London department store (Peter Jones in Sloane Square) as a coupon clerk, eventually worked his way up to manager. Technically, he was an enemy alien; he had applied for British citizenship in 1939, but the war had prevented his papers from going through. He was never interned. Moreover, he was able to bring his aging parents from Austria to England...
...Queen Rules. Estranged from Henry in 1168, Eleanor set up her own court in Poitiers. There, in sunny arcades, to the shapely wooing of a flute, she and her followers brought the cult of chivalric love to perfection. But the idyl of manners was brief. Henry sniffed sedition in the antics of her preux chevaliers, broke up the court, and hauled Eleanor back to an English keep. She languished there, in sumptuous jail, for 15 years...
Still, it was something of an idyl to the end, which came to Elizabeth in Florence, 15 years after their marriage. She died, wrote Browning, in his arms, "kissing me with such vehemence that when I laid her down she continued to kiss the air with her lips . . ." Browning died in Venice, 28 years later, but he was not buried in Florence beside Elizabeth as he had always hoped. Westminster Abbey offered a burial in the Poets' Corner, and Browning's son thought it proper to accept...