Word: maudlinity
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...Isobel" and made his fireman. Luke is the father of the prettiest girl of the railroad yards, or something like that, and Casey as well as Superintendent Sweeney's collegiate son manage to run into plenty of milk cans and fall off plenty of platforms getting maudlin over her. Casey finally challenges his rival to a wrestling match which looks discouraging for him of the shellacked locks until he tells Luke and Doris, the fair one's handle, that he was one time intercollegiate wrestling champion or captain of the Yale boxing team,--and how! Doris is not so sure...
...words upon it before the eyes of virtually every literate U. S. inhabitant. Who has not seen the Lindbergh photographs? Who, asked to whom the nicknames "Slim," "Lucky," apply, would hesitate for an answer? To be sure, the stories written about Colonel Lindbergh were often phrased in bombastic and maudlin journalese. Mrs. Lindbergh, dignified, poised, was the theme of countless prose variations of Mother Machree. Had Colonel Lindbergh possessed a wife or sweetheart, one hesitates to think what would have been written about her. What Colonel Lindbergh did and said at his various receptions was fogged in a cloud...
...much intense feeling into a book that it becomes stuffy, stifling. Author Smith's sincerity is evident and creditable, but the conflicts in the minds of his characters, though perfectly imaginable, are poorly imagined. They have not been viewed with sufficient perspective to prevent their growing maudlin. The action is unbalanced. It wobbles off into a mist of emotion and disappears from sight. Author Smith's last book, Topper (1926), was in a happier, lighter, suburban vein to which his readers may well wish he would return...
They had been arguing over the McNary-Haugen farm bill. Speaker Longworth and Representative Hudspeth of Texas separated them. Mighty though their swings had been, not a fist found its target. The heavyweight championship battle of the House was a maudlin, scoreless...
Napoleona went on exhibition last week at the Museum of French Art in Manhattan. Maudlin sentimentalizers sniffled; shallow women giggled, pointed. In a glass case they saw something looking like a maltreated strip of buckskin shoelace or a shriveled eel. It was a mummified tendon taken from Napoleon's body at the postmortem. Then there were locks of Napoleon's hair, his white breeches, a flounce of Alengon lace from Marie Louise's wedding dress, a baby dress worn by L'Aiglon (Napoleon's only legitimate child), a death mask of Napoleon cast in bronze...