Word: nymphomaniacally
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...intention of divorcing herself from the world. Transformed from a good-looking, athletic girl into an object of pity, she determines to live through other people. Flip, shrewdly cynical and bossy, she helps care for a crippled child, tries to manipulate the thinking and affairs of a beautiful nymphomaniac, a black-marketeer, a Protestant minister. Aunt Mathilde, who earns a pathetic living for herself and Constance, is appalled. "A crippled child, and now, a whore! With your mania for rubbing up against humanity, you're apt to force almost anyone on us." Constance drives, insults and cracks the whip...
...noblest ambition used to be to look like Tom Mix. The Good Families of Walnut Creek tolerate these goings-on as long as Jack remembers that there are two kinds of folks: those who make the laws and those who obey them. Then one hot dawn Jack finds the nymphomaniac daughter of a Good Family ice-picked to death. When Jack sets out to help track down the murderers, the yarn gets both confusing and gamy. What saves it is that Author Gwaltney has a foxy ear for cracker talk, a gift for deft characterization, and enough sense...
Marlowe's latest case drops into his arms when he props up a drunk outside an expensive Los Angeles nightspot. The drunk is a weak-willed chap named Terry Lennox who has trouble accepting the twin facts that his beautiful wife is a nymphomaniac and a millionairess. When she has her skull bashed and "gets dead" a few weeks later, Terry seems the logical suspect, except to Marlowe. After two more violent deaths and some incidental lady-killings by Marlowe, the whole case is tied up very suitably...
...wool and . . . Johnson & Johnson's baby powder." When her dark eyes "snapped caressingly." young Patrick boldly drew her into a brief clinch. Little did he know, poor fellow, that 15-year-old Cathy was already well on the way to becoming what his friend Alastair called "my favorite nymphomaniac...
...plight of Jews in a Germany rotting with Naziism--are remarkably unimaginative. And less significant diversions--the American millionaire, the comic landlady--are written and played as stereotypes. Because of Julie Harris, however, I Am a Camera successfully captures the Sally of the Berlin Stories. The immature, flambouyant nymphomaniac steps from the book as Miss Harris sweeps on to the stage with a garish pink scarf, a long cigarette holder, and delicious dreams of floating down the Nile with "sensual Arabs watching from the tops of pyramids...