Word: marmosets
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...Brits are baffled. Burbank? Governor Jerry Brown? Medflies? Orson Welles on a windy day? Cronkite? Rather? And what is that marmoset doing on Johnny Carson's head...
...largely an act of existential futility, like trying to hide from a blizzard inside a freezer. Davies wrote that the premiere Tonight show "had catastrophically equated our national tastes with those of Benny Hill," then proceeded to nail Carson's guests, his audience, his tailoring and "a marmoset [that] peed endearingly on Johnny's head and an aardvark [that] shat in a sandbox." Nevertheless, Davies concluded his well-turned roast with an exemplary demonstration of fair play: "Against the run of all this evidence, I insist that Carson is worth having...
Hosie's Zoo (Viking; $10.95) is an equally eerie place, populated with recognizable creatures of the jungle, but transfigured by Leonard Baskin's violent line and shadowy backgrounds. Some of the descriptions, by Baskin's wife and children, are worthy of Ogden Nash: "The pygmy marmoset's minuscule lips/ Spew shrieking taunts, fierce orations and quips." Others are freighted with anthropomorphisms and archness. But Paterfamilias Leonard makes no mistakes in his rendering of tigers, camels, bighorn sheep, aardvarks and other forms of animal life: the creatures seem to have an existence beyond the page. Parents should...
...play's climactic scene finds Rolfe (who is called George Arthur Rose in the novel) gossiping with his bishop about the long drawn-out election of a new Pope. With malice towards everyone, Rolfe is as agile as a marmoset, and a sharp-toothed incessant talker. The talk is hushed as chanting begins in the rear of the theater. With measured tread, the Sacred College advances down the two long aisles in a swirl of scarlet and incense. As the cardinals reach the stage, they pause before the bishop and the priest: "Wilt thou accept pontificality?" Rolfe turns...
...records that social and intellectual snobbery was her worst defect, and he notes with a stranger's eye "a streak of incongruous archness in her humor which is almost ladylike and very disconcerting." Woolf mentions friendships, but the reader feels no warmth. He writes most affectionately of a marmoset named Mitz (the gift of a Rothschild), which rode on his shoulder on a tour of Hitler's Germany. The monkey stole the show and distracted the Brownshirts from Woolf's culpable Jewishness...