Word: lytton
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...dance last night," she wrote at 23, "and found a dim corner where I sat and read In Memoriam. You see I am not successful." It was only in the rarefied atmosphere of Bloomsbury that her formidable mind and odd beauty were appreciated. Men like Clive Bell, Lytton Strachey and Roger Fry accepted her, flirted with her, and in some cases proposed. At one point she and the homosexual Strachey became engaged, but both came to realize their folly and amicably called...
...invalid spinster Lady Constance Lytton, Judy Parfitt provides the uncanniest sense of the past recaptured...
Sense of Balance. Eight years ago, with an imposing biography of Lytton Strachey, Holroyd (now 41) became one of our best guides to the cultural life of England in the early 20th century. No one of his generation has done more to clarify the achievements and emotional imbrications of the Bloomsbury group, or to deflate its more self-enchanted pieties. A great deal of the truth about a society lies in the lives of its minor artists. To write about them without falling into postures of condescension, gossip or overpraise is one of the toughest of all biographical feats...
...than to be smart and a crook. "Gerald Ford is Middle America," Time magazine said firmly. As long as Ford continued to cook his own breakfast and refused to follow his predecessor in fattening himself at the public expense, commentaries indicated, all would be right with the republic. Like Lytton Strachey's eminent Victorian, they were obsessed with the ideal of saintliness and convinced of the supreme importance of not eating too much...
...funeral. And there is the "picayune" biography, which leaves the reader with so many personal, intimate but unnecessary and non-integrated facts that he feels like taking a shower. Often, the picayune biography is an "authorized" work, written by a worshipping professor after the death of a great writer. Lytton Strachey anticipated Blotner's contribution to this genre more than fifty years ago when he remarked on "those two fat volumes, with which it is our custom to commemorate the dead...with their ill-digested masses of material, their slipshod style, their tone of tedious panegyric, their lamentable lack...