Word: paled
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...soul of soul, presents a rather touched-up portrait today. His once rough edges are smoothed out, but he is still one of the most convincing singers on records. He inflects his lines freshly, and with faultless timing underlines every nuance-whether in warm pop like Yesterdays or pale blues like Never Say Now. As a member of the interracial musical exchange, Charles now borrows the sweetly lyrical Eleanor Rigby from his long-term debtors, the Beatles...
...smooth stones through Duck Hollow. Eb ? his real name is Elbert, but one doesn't call a mountain man that ? is 56, and he went blind seven years ago. (Degenerative blindness afflicts many Appalachian dwellers as a result of in breeding.) Lank and long-striding in his pale blue bib overalls, his sightless eyes gleaming under a faded brown fedora, Eb stalks his 52 hillside acres mending fences with the assurance of a man born to the slope. His four-room tar-papered house perches on a 45-degree cant with the same defiant certitude. With his wife...
...shoulder-length locks, tattersall sports jacket decorated with a sheriff's badge, plaid shirt and orange socks. He always carries a copy of the New Testament and lugs a soiled brown shop ping bag in which he always keeps such talismans as a dime-store compact (he uses pale Elizabeth Arden foundation makeup), two notebooks containing the lyrics of 500 songs, and, of course, his "dear, sweet" ukulele...
Actually, his later novels, notably Lolita and Pale Fire, are far more elaborate. Even Laughter in the Dark (originally published in 1932 as Camera obscurd), which in setting, plot and theme strongly resembles King, Queen, Knave, is more intricately patterned. But King, Queen, Knave is tricky enough-the ap-pearance-and-reality theme as applied to the eternal love triangle. In Nabokov's idiosyncratic geometry, all three angles are obtuse: Kurt Dreyer, fiftyish, owner of a prosperous department store, is suffused with a jocular egomania; Martha, his 34-year-old wife, beautiful and sybaritic, is dimmed by compulsively romantic...
...could not bear to live without him. Although Ian Fleming died almost four years ago, his creature, James Bond, is back, resuscitated by British Author Kingsley Amis.* A specialist on 007, as he proved three years ago in the James Bond Dossier, Amis provides a reasonably healthy, if slightly pale, replica. It remains to be seen whether the trans planted heart will function smoothly (and profitably), or whether it will provoke rejection symptoms. The new Bond lacks much of the comic-book charm that connected so well when the camp craze was at its height a few years...