Word: interested
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Besides the rather natural interest that this column has in its discovery, vocalist Helen O'Connell, it has seemed to us that ever since Jimmy started his band, he has had the best all-around combination in the country. We've said this for two years now, predicting that he would go to the top very shortly, and Jimmy has saved our face by breaking every record in sight with the most disgusting regularity for the past nine months. Down in Atlantic City this summer with lots of the name bands around, including his brother Tommy, Jimmy managed to gather...
...club has had an informal status for six years, but recently interest in the sport has increased. A short time ago the club members put the finishing touches on a large ski cabin which they built near Jackson, New Hampshire. The cabin will house about 30 skiers...
...years in France, and to write in French. His novels are disturbing, as distinguished, and as subtly disciplined as the dreams they resemble. Last week he set beside them selections from a journal (1928-39) in the editing of which his chief concern has been "to interest a reader whom doubtless I shall never meet."† As frequently happens in the handling of serious work in the U. S., his publishers tried by various jacket ruses to disguise the book as a popular commodity; but from its opening pages onward it steadily gave them...
Green's journal is an anthology of the things which an intelligence of a high order has seen, heard, talked of, cared for, feared, felt, thought, during the past ten years. There is an obsession, as readers of his novels would expect, with death; a strong interest in the "macabre" (a word he nowhere uses); a pervasive fear of war, of revolution, of the end of civilization; the constant meditation of a devout man who has abandoned formal religion. There are "portraits" of Gide, Stein, Cocteau; excellent observations on painting, sculpture, music, films, above all on writing...
There is also some superb writing on certain sinister essences of the American South. In the later pages there is a slow withering of gaiety, of wit, of external interest, a dark and deepening absorption in the study of Buddhism, of the Bible in Hebrew, of the nature of reality, and of death, which at length is no longer feared. The journal ends in the aftermath of a gentle and casual dream: "Perhaps we shall be talking just like that when we awake from this life. Who could say that all our waking life was not a dream...