Word: lovelies
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...evil Duke de Lorca. Errol manages it with the help of nothing more than fire, sword, galloping horses, conspiring friends, and a few scattered incidents when he is called upon to prove that his strength is as the strength of ten because his heart is afire with love for the queen. No question of credibility is really involved in all this, since the story at no time resembles any situation ever likely to have been faced by any human being...
...want to jab and strike, like the soldier with the bayonet . . . You are simply full of repressed desires . . . As a woman said to me, who had been to one of your meetings: 'It seemed so strange, with his face looking so evil, to be talking about peace and love.' Why don't you own it." He concluded huffily: "Let us become strangers again...
...complained. "Why don't you drop overboard? . . . Do become a creature instead of a mechanical instrument . . . start at the very beginning and be a perfect baby . . . Oh, and I want to ask you, when you make your will, do leave me enough to live on . . . My love to you. Stop working and being an ego . . . Are you still cross...
...last third of An Act of Love is a first-rate, exciting war report. Correspondent Wolfert can describe a battle in its coherent entirety while focusing attention on a few men fighting in it. But as a novelist, he cannot bring to life the feelings of men in war with the same vividness that he brings a battle to life. Towards his sad weakling of a hero, whom Wolfert tiresomely philosophizes over, the reader can feel only the sort of minor pity one feels for a sick puppy...
...Opus 2. Mr. Shelleyblake is too shy, or too ambitious, or too much in need of money to admit that having just blown his top in Opus i he hasn't got enough steam up to do it again. What's more, he has recently fallen in love and married ("Sex," says Connolly, "is a substitute for artistic creation"), and the charm of new-blooming domesticity is making his old notions about art-for-art's-sake look rather silly. So Mr. Shelleyblake signs the contract and goes home to write-what? Well, at least he knows...