Word: metaphorizes
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...Alan Jay Lerner went to the hospital with a bleeding ulcer,* and Director Hart learned of the death of his 97-year-old father in Miami, retired to his hotel room for three days with nervous fatigue. As for the show itself. Composer Loewe had armored himself in a metaphor. "When you see it." he warned visitors just before curtain time, "remember that when a baby is born, its face is all wrinkled, it looks like a prune. It is red and ugly and you say, Ts that my baby? No. Never.' But six weeks later, the baby...
...peeling music hall in which no-talent bums hold the center of the stage and a public stupefied by socialized security hums mindlessly the theme song of the welfare state ("Why should I care, why should I let it touch me?")-is never less than a magnificent metaphor but always less than convincing; and for U.S. audiences, it may even be less than interesting. What's more, the film sometimes suffers by comparison with the play. The outdoor scenes let too much fresh air into Archie's grubby little life, and the audience loses its physical sense...
Truth's metaphor is the needle, The magnetic north of purpose Striving against the true north Of self . . . or share such wisdom as he feels can surely apply to all men in every time...
...more than 100,000 listeners in the stadium, plus 7,000 in the Pentagon courtyard, Billy gave full measure of metaphor, religious and otherwise. "We in America," said Billy, "are becoming a nation of towering intellects, Atlas-like bodies and shriveled souls. The American people are fiddling and playing around while the world burns and crumbles down around them . . . Life can be sweet, smooth and sassy, like our modern cars, but if we have lost the key, or if there is no fuel in the tank, we can't go any place . . . Like an aircraft in a storm...
World to Self. That nobility often rests on the splendor of the language, but beautiful lines alone may reach no farther than the ear. Shakespeare speaks to the soul. He speaks in metaphor, which relates world to self, thing to thing, in the endless chain of being. Shakespeare could do anything he wanted with language; the way he talks of a thing conjures up the thing itself. The lines, "Not poppy nor mandragora, nor all the drowsy syrups of the world shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep which thou owedst yesterday," hypnotize with their own heavy-lidded evocation...