Word: mournings
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...During open-end discussions at Manhattan's Village Vanguard last winter, Jones put an extra racial twist on the death of two white civil rights workers murdered last summer in Mississippi. "Those boys were just artifacts−artifacts, man. They weren't real. I won't mourn them. I have my own dead to mourn for. " Novelist James Baldwin writes that "to be a Negro in this country and to be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time," and chose for a book title The Fire Next Time. Thus the outward message...
Some Dream. Biggest bash of all came last week. To celebrate (or mourn) his impending return to Claremont Men's College, Producer (Funny Girl) Ray Stark's 21-year-old son Peter threw an "underground" cocktail party at The Scene, Manhattan's freest-wheeling nightclub. The guest list read like a society columnist's dream: Huntington Hartford, Mrs. Eric Javits, Wendy Vanderbilt, Melinda Moon, Freddie Guest (Winston's son) and his wife Stephanie (Joan Bennett's daughter), Maria Cooper (Gary's daughter), Liza Minnelli (Judy's daughter), Alexandra Cushing and Christina Paolozzi...
...their vast estate, which survives like a verdant enclave in the provincial city of Ferrara. Father Ermanno is an aging scholar-gentleman who has passed his life in obscure antiquarian studies, and who regards the Fascists with courtly contempt. Mother Olga is an aristocratic wraith who lives only to mourn the death of her six-year-old child. Son Alberto is a languid dilettante. Daughter Micol is a beautiful, spirited intellectual who cannot bring herself to escape the family's fortress of unreality...
BRAHMS: GERMAN REQUIEM (Deutsche Grammophon; 2 LPs). "Blessed are they that mourn," softly sings the chorus, and soon the sad saraband begins ("For all flesh is as grass"). At length the black solemnity is relieved by the soaring soprano voice of Gundula Janowitz singing "I will see you again." A powerful, rhythmically relentless performance by Herbert von Karajan, the Berlin Philharmonic and the Vienna Singverein...
...TIME has helped perpetuate the blind and primitive myth that participation in war is somehow "noble" and "honorable." How long must we continue to rationalize the greatest of atrocities as the greatest of glories? Until we begin to bury our dead in silence instead of building them monuments, and mourn the dead enemy instead of exalting our sons as victors, we shall not have peace...