Word: loved
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...again after just one night in her own bed. She has that date at the Roxy in Los Angeles, plus several guest shots on television. Coming up in May is a tour of Europe. Says Dolly: "Sure I'm in it for the money, but also because I love music. I picture myself in the future as a happy old lady, chubby, rosy cheeks, telling stories to the little kids. When I sit back in my rocker, I want to have done...
...ONLY assume that Erich Segal's goal in life is to be dipped in bronze and mounted somewhere on the Harvard campus. I, for one, would be happy to gratify that wish. Apparently unsatisfied with Love Story, the classic mawkish, lightweight novel, Segal has unloaded a sequel. But for all his insipid sentimentality about Harvard and his nauseatingly self-conscious style, Segal is no fool. Oliver's Story is selling like hotcakes, and Rona Barrett is probably spreading rumors about how much Ryan O'Neal wants for the inevitable film version...
Oliver's Story (note the original title) takes its rightful place on a literary scale with its inconsequential predecessor, but it weighs in at a whopping 264 pages, more than twice as long as Love Story. The problem is that Segal cannot make the same trick work twice. His style is exactly the same as in Love Story, but the sequel has neither the wit nor the brevity that made Love Story the dubious achievement that it was. Oliver's life as a widower simply is not interesting enough to fill that many pages. Perhaps the only encouraging thing about...
...months after Jenny's untimely death. Oliver has thrown himself into his work as a crusading liberal lawyer, coping with grief by shutting off all his emotions. He does not allow himself to think about other women, for he is consumed by guilt. In the last chapters of Love Story, Jenny tells "Preppie" not to feel guilty for robbing her of freedom and adventure. But Ollie believes that he should feel guilty, and so he does, ad infinitum, ad absurdum, ad nauseum...
...self-flagellating self-analysis, the inevitable happens: while jogging in Central Park, Oliver finally meets a girl who seems to break through the veil of rudeness he uses to fend off the world. But if you cried when Ali McGraw angelically faded out in the film version of Love Story, fear not. Marcie, heiress-apparent to the former all-Ivy wing, is no match for Jennifer Cavilleri. She is, however, outrageously rich, mysterious, athletic and beautiful. Oliver's first comment about her is that she has a "fantastic ass." Obviously, Oliver's precious leftism does not include feminism...