Word: loves
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Love" is whimsical romance of the very best sort. Maurice Chevalier and Edward Everett Horton are a good deal funnier than they have been before, thanks to clever dialogue and a few gags which are on a level with those of Mr. Chaplin. In the direction by Norman Taurog you will find evidence that Rene Clair's technique has been imitated, and with considerable success. As movies go, "The Way To Love" should please everyone; it is never too subtle for the masses, for too serious for the classes...
There is so little about that love, and yet the little means so much. Keats was but recovered from a first futile infatuation, Fanny Brawne was just eighteen. Her blonde and statuesque beauty jarred harshly with her fondness for a ready retort; her inclination to bandy a flirtatious word with any young Hussar in gold-frogging and scarlet did shocking violence to her Janoesque grace. She startled her friends with an interest in politics, and even translated French and German, so proving herself a dreadful "rattle...
...Keats loved her at first sight. "The very first week I knew you, I wrote myself your vassal," he recorded. It was not for her wit, for he had more; nor for her money, since he planned to win their bread as a surgeon; nor for her beauty--"her nostrils . . . a little painful," he wrote, "her mouth is bad and good, her Profile better than her full face . . . her hands bad-ish, her feet tolerable." He did not even love her for her guile: they had many a tiff over a ball-room brave, and he reproached her with being...
...curse of Tantalus haunted their Romantic love. As Amy Lowell explains, "She kept Keats in a burning agitation of desire which, under the circumstances, she was powerless to gratify." Yet she waited out the long days of his illness, lonely in her cold virginity, never regarding the torment of delirious notes in which he accused her of unfaithfulness. She kept faith to the dying poet long after he coughed out his last feeble breath, holding her oval white carnelian in his hand. She had understood his request that her last letter be laid in his coffin. He died. "All that...
...Browning, Flush naturally went along. He enjoyed Italy as much as they did. In a land where nobody thought of kidnapping dogs, with a mistress who had ceased to be an invalid in becoming a wife, Flush led an unrestrained and roving life, made up for many a lost love-affair. With the Brownings he visited England and Wimpole Street once again, but he was glad to get back to Italy, to spend his old age in the southern sun and to die in peace by his beloved mistress's side...