Word: maria
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...told his daughter. Wyeth, a gambler in the respected, dead-end tradition of the pioneer. Losing their home in Reno, he moved his wife and child to Silver Wells, Nevada, there built a motel "that would have been advantageously situated at a freeway exit had the freeway been built." Maria grows up, in turn loses, in Los Angeles, in Vegas, in marriage and at motherhood. Ends up in Neuropsychiatric. "I was raised to believe that what came in on the next roll would always be better than what went out on the last. I no longer believe that...
...there is any deficiency in the novel it lies in our lack of preparation for BZ's confession of fellowship with Maria. To credit it to the hypocrisy-shattering side-effects of his homosexuality is not enough. Lord knows, in Hollywood, where homosexuality seems just another building block in the whole rotten institution, the posturing that goes into both concealing and flaunting homosexual tastes is just as appalling as all the other pretenses with which the town is infected. But then the novel is Maria's story, and that alone would prevent us from understanding more...
...dies in Maria's arms, but Maria, who "closed her eyes against the light and her ears against Helene and her mind against what was going to happen in the next few hours," goes on "living," playing it as it lays...
...Maria's logic-her lack of it-combined with the inescapable force of the entire novel, is devastating. (Which is why this piece could hardly qualify as a piece of criticism. How can you coolly discuss the elements of a work that so completely overwhelms you? Why would you even want to?) When you read those last two lines
...Child. In the forest of Aveyron in 1801, a savage animal was captured. It was a boy of about twelve, origins unknown, with vulpine instincts and capacities. This Mowgli-like creature became renowned in his own time; a hundred years later, he was an object of fascination for Educator Maria Montessori. Now the cycle begins anew with this work by Francois Truffaut. At first the mud-caked curiosity (Jean-Pierre Cargol) is treated as a zoo animal, visited by Parisians who applaud his pathetic growls and tantrums. Mercifully -or so it seems-the child is taken...