Word: novelized
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...York, a clam digger named Cornelius J. Broere conceived a novel legal theory: that towing a floating corpse to shore is as much a salvage operation as towing an abandoned ship to safety. He filed a libel action under the provisions of Admiralty Law for $2,133 discovered in the pockets of a dead man he fished out of Great South...
Kingsblood Royal (which is the Literary Guild's choice for June) is a novel chiefly in the sense that it contains some of the most artificial fiction, dressed in the worst prose, that "Red" Lewis has ever written. In essence, it is a cut-&-slash pamphlet, packed to the boards with ferocity, diatribe and disgust. Kingsblood Royal is not another onslaught on the old established fact of Southern discrimination; it is a blow at the smug white of the Northern cities-at the man who merely dabbled in race prejudice until the industrial needs of World War II caused...
Wodehouse's second novel since the war has all the nicely timed plotting and mock style of its many predecessors; its world, as usual, is a world all its own. Blandings Castle is the scene; present are Lord Emsworth, who resembles a heap of old clothes in the moonlight, his prize pig, his battle-ax of a sister and various featherbrained members of a younger generation intent on strategies of love. Full Moon lacks the fresh epithets and fruity exuberance of Wodehouse's most inventive stories, but its nitwitticisms will satisfy the addicted...
...foggy afternoon in London, ten-year-old Sonia was lured into a vacant house, attacked, and choked to death. So begins Prelude to a Certain Midnight, the fifth novel by British Novelist Gerald Kersh (Sergeant Nelson of the Guards, Faces in a Dusty Picture). For a few pages Kersh fiddles around the psychological fringes of the crime, then he runs through a roster of gaudy suspects...
Write Sorrow on the Earth must be described as a "secondary" novel, in the sense that it would probably never have been written if Malraux and, to a lesser extent, Hemingway, had not broken similar ground in a somewhat similar way. It also shows one chief lack within itself: it does not have much of the kind of energy which usually distinguishes powerfully talented novels. Yet it shines bright and steady beside many novels which have such energy. It has none of the death-neurosis or neurotic heroics of Malraux; none of the softness of Steinbeck or Hersey; none...