Word: inmanned
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...Thursday, Dec. 5, 1963, Arthur Inman, one of the most bizarre Americans in the history of the Republic, went into his toilet carrying a Colt revolver. The latest in a lifelong string of crises, real or imagined, to cause Inman to despair was rising outside his old haunt in Boston's Back Bay. "The Prudential Tower," he had told his diary, "is 28 stories into the sky, soon will be goosing God." He had fled to Brookline to escape the din of construction, taking with him the noises in his head, and now he was over the edge. "This...
...Inman's widow Evelyn, settling the man's affairs was a trying task. More than anything else, he had wanted his diary published. He had commenced it on Dec. 27, 1918. It began, "Am I now very much interested in Genghis Khan?" Inman had a soft spot for brutes, his diary would reveal--all 17 million words, all 155 volumes. It took the late Evelyn Inman (she died last June) and two other trustees of his estate until 1977 to secure a publisher. Harvard University Press accepted the diarist's tonnage, then engaged Daniel Aaron, professor of English and American...
What an odd duck to have legs, as Madison Avenue puts it when a product moves briskly. The two-volume set, entitled The Inman Diary: A Public and Private Confession, has had steady sales and is going into a third printing, which for a book this size and cost is unusual. It has been reviewed favorably all over the block. David Herbert Donald, a Pulitzer-prizewinning historian, calls it "the most remarkable diary ever published by an American." The thing puts people in mind of Pepys, Proust, Rousseau, all manner of citadels of personal penmanship. There is movie talk...
Witness the triumverate of successful restaurants that have sprung from the fabulously popular Inman eatery, Dali: Tapeo, Cuchi-Cuchi, and Solea borrow the well-tested formula of reliably good tapas, lethal sangria, and a sequins-and-boas atmosphere. However, in the time it takes to get to the top of the wait list at Dali, you can easily be halfway through your Spanish feast at Tapeo...
...rimmed glasses afloat in the swirling maelstrom of intentional hipness bobbed up and down in eager anticipation for the night’s event, torn jeans resting in the plush cushions of the museum’s auditorium. It was a strange atmosphere, as if this back-country-via-Inman-Square audience had been lured in and trapped in the MFA’s relatively sterile all-purpose theatre, and only when the night’s attraction emerged in similar attire did it all begin to make sense...