Word: kleenexes
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MASTURBATING HEROES dot Philip Roth's novels like so many used kleenex on the floor. But his 11th book, The Ghost Writer, would not be lightly tossed aside. It delves into the mind of a Jewish writer and surfaces only after revealing the harsh compromises that must be made to attain great stature as an author. One imagines Roth secreting himself one night in I.B. Singer's bedroom closet all the while scribbling a short story about what he sees. In the morning he discovers in his lap a small masterpiece, part autobiography, part fancy; but it is the whole...
...concerns the purpose of his art: is his ultimate responsibility to himself or his Jewish heritage? Even the writer of the Bible must have paused to consider the personal and social consequences of his creation. In the end, Nathan, like Roth, chooses to write for himself and let the kleenex fall where they may. "There is obviously no simple way to be great," says Nathan...
...follow the dictates of their conscience. But a constitutional right to want something doesn't mean the right to have the Government pay for it." As the debate warmed up, Hyde tossed out one of his favorite lines: "There are 1 million children who are thrown away like Kleenex because someone thinks that they are not as valuable as a snail darter." Hyde brushed aside all counterarguments. "Taking a human life with the taxpayers' money is abhorrent," he said, "and I intend to use the political process to stop...
Andy Kaufman sheds characters like a cold-sufferer discarding Kleenex. He is not only this indomitable overreacher called simply "Foreign Man." He can be, as easily, a lowlife Vegas saloon singer named Tony Clifton; a heartsick yearner after a lost love from the seventh grade; a ringmaster for a kind of rainy-afternoon kiddie show, full of cartoons and silly songs. In all those guises, Andy Kaufman is a little like a stand-up Pirandello. But what adds particular piquancy to his lavish charades is Kaufman's adamant refusal ever to drop his own mask...
...advance for the virtual or entire absence of: air conditioning, ice water, ice cubes, ice cream, poached eggs, hamburgers, French fries, lamb chops, orange juice, cocktails, nightclubs, good grape wine, potable soft drinks (a prevalent banana concoction tastes like carbonated Brylcreem); cigars, low-tar cigarettes and Di-Gel; Kleenex, Band-Aids, shower curtains, shoeshines; and, with no sense of loss, lawns, pubs, sidewalk cafes, casinos, credit cards, commercials, news, Muzak, golf courses, public tennis courts, headwaiters, muggers and prostitutes...