Word: lust
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Despite her given name, De Monaghan's gender is unmistakable. She is the most erotic film teen-ager since Lee Remick's drum majorette in A Face In the Crowd. But Jerome is a creature of such intellectuality that lust comes to him in whispers. It is not Claire's torso that he craves. Only her knee. In time he manages to palpate the beloved object...
...peels the surface off his famous subjects (Michelangelo, Van Goah, Mary Todd Lincoln) and stuffs them with gobs of unsorted data, pulpy dialogue and icky emotionalism. Not all fact yet hardly worth calling fiction, Stone's books have the intellectual value of slightly organized debris, but they sell. Lust for Life (1934) moved some 2 million copies in cloth and paperback. Approaching 3 million, The Agony and the Ecstasy (1961) is still going strong. The Passions of the Mind, released early to most booksellers, had sold 125,000 before its official publicaton date...
...huge ambition thrusting out of old shtetl terrors and the hidden struggle with a Jewish mother who called him "mein goldener Sigi" till the day she died? As Stone presents him, the young Freud is just another nice, bright Jewish boy, "my son the doctor," and his long and lust-tormented engagement to Martha Bernays is a Victorian idyl of sweet reason and unspattered upholstery...
Truman, by contrast, slugged viciously ("The Republican Party is controlled by silent and cunning men who have a dangerous lust for power and privilege") through 31,500 miles and 350 speeches, stubbornly predicting his own victory. Gamblers made Dewey an 18-to-1 favorite; some pollsters were so certain of the outcome that they stopped sampling as early as September. But Truman attracted large and noisy crowds ("Give 'em hell, Harry"). He won, mainly because of a revolt among Midwest farmers, who were angry at the Republican Congress and turned off by Dewey's cool gentility...
...ever going to see a Loeb play, see this one. The costumes, the set and an unearthly masque in the second act are splendid surface externals in a play which shows all human convention to be hollow, all human interaction mere shadow-boxing in a game which, through lust, ends in hellfire...