Word: martyrdoms
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Like many of the new plays which the Poets' Theatre has presented, Murrey Hargrove's The Martyrdom of Roy Wilson suffers from a lack of discipline and craftsmanship which is only redeemed by talented direction, acting, and technics. If not original in concept, it is at least original in its attempt to force normal speech patterns and language into a poetic form. The script occasionally rises to real eloquence, but more often it is tawdry and indulges in the most egregious bad taste. Mr. Hargrove's use of profanity is completely gratuitous, like a small boy swearing before his parents...
...repeatedly committed that sin against society for which Socrates was condemned to death: he made the worse seem the better part. As Albert Einstein once put it, Shaw had "succeeded in gaining the love and the joyful admiration of mankind by a path which for others has led to martyrdom...
...Martyrdom of Fire. In 1858 John Long, a young schoolteacher who was later to be a three-time governor of Massachusetts, wrote in his journal: "I judge that Longfellow has not suffered enough to be a great poet." Less than three years later, if he remembered it, the entry must have made him uneasy. On July 9, 1861 Fanny was sealing a package that contained a lock of one of her children's hair. Her sleeve caught fire, and in a moment her light summer dress became a sheath of flame. Trying to save her, Longfellow was himself seriously...
...long, sleepless watches of the night A gentle face - the face of one dead Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died; and soul more white Never through martyrdom of fire was led To its repose...
Think on the glory of martyrdom, ye who can propound the doctrine! Think of the glory of saving lost western sheep, of schussing down the divine and grand Colorado slopes in search of the unfound, of exaltation in the sublime expanses of Nature! Think also on the glory of the greater numbers of true preachers which the wonderful spaces of the West will allow us! Ah, the glory...