Word: miras
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...libretto, by Prokofiev and his wife, Poetess Mira Mendelsohn, arbitrarily hacked great chunks out of the Tolstoy epic without ever linking them in true dramatic tension. Tolstoy's own brilliant literary counterpoint-in which he switched from peace to war scenes and back-was abandoned. All the peace was concentrated in the first part, all the war in the second, so that many of the figures in Part I suddenly dropped out of sight. Moreover, the libretto was narrative rather than dramatic, required whole passages of flat prose to be set to music, with the result that long stretches...
...culture clash on the purely domestic level, but in the last part Some Inner Fury is rocked by the ferocity of an India passion-bent on independence. In the eye of this hurricane is Author Markandaya's heroine, a grave-eyed, gentle-born girl of 16 named Mira. When her brother Kitsamy brings an Oxford classmate, Richard Marlowe, home with him after graduation, Mira is so blushing-bold as to beg her mother to let her go on an unchaperoned swimming party with the handsome blond Englishman. Mama quickly scotches that outing, and British officialdom does the rest...
Within the year, the newlyweds invite Mira for a visit to their big-city home. In due time she meets Richard again. With India's sun-scorched earth and evergreen-crowned peaks for a backdrop, their illicit love affair is a many-splendored dream. They wake up to the man-made India riven by hate. In a tragedy of errors, Kit and Premala are murdered by nationalist extremists, and as the episode ramifies, Mira and Richard find that not even their love can break through the sociocultural barrier...
...stay, but if I didn't, I'd move on." He moved on and on for the next 28 years. He got jobs as a census taker, factory worker, salesman. Once, during the Depression, he worked his way around South America on the tug Mira Flores. A storm disabled the boat, and "we lived off flying fish for four or five days. Caught them, bit off the heads and ate the rest...
...collegium Harvardianum, nuper modestum morum bonorum praesidium, nunc vividum alacris motus gymnasium! Cavete igitur vos decani decanulique--"non intret Cato theatrum meum"--nec non vos, o septum novi homines qui ad spinosam Lapparum tutelam elevati estis. Quae enim saga Radcliffiensis, quis magus Harvardianus pollenti pectore nunc praesentire potest quam mira et magna Plautus et Bacchus et fervidus ille puer et solutis Gratiae zonis in campo et area nostria iamiam effecturi sint? Nam hac in fabula Plautina est quidam filius qui scortillum venustum perdite amat; est fili pater, decrepitus senex, qui una cum filio non modo potat sed etiam amicam ductat...