Word: paperbacks
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...unenthusiastically produced a much unthumbed copy of the speeches of William Jennings Bryan. Recently, however, with no prompting at all, Johnson has been touting the L.B.J. Selection-of-the-Century: The Rich Nations and the Poor Nations by Britain's Barbara Ward. It sells for a dollar in paperback, its 159 pages largely devoted to the problems of Kikuyus and Kazakhs. Yet, avows the President, "I read it like I do the Bible...
...geometric, travertine-and glass-sided space between four buildings. They picked Britain's monumental Henry Moore (TIME cover, Sept. 21, 1959) to fill the tall order. Last week the largest Moore sculpture ever made arrived-a two-piece bronze whose shells are cast as thin as a paperback whodunit, yet still weigh nine tons. There it lay, surrounded by mystery and a pair of slat-sided crates...
...catchall bookshelf in a rented summer cottage, once the hallowed repository of mildewed National Geographies and Mary Roberts Rinehart, now often runs to Pasternak and Proust, to Galbraith and Gideon's Trumpet. Even in the remotest fishing village, the drugstore often offers a conscience-pricking range of paperback titles. Inevitably, as he scoops up Louis Fischer's Life of Lenin, Camus' The Plague, George Orwell's Essays, and four Ian Flemings for insurance, the vacationer is torn between dreams of intellectual grandeur and the gnawing suspicion that he will only finish the Flemings. Once again...
...Even in paperback, the Alexandria Quartet, Anthony Powell's The Music of Time series, Gide's Journals and all of C. P. Snow are apt to stir poolside suspicion. Anyone who takes his summer reading seriously must weather such risks-or else tuck his Doctor Zhivago inside Doctor No. The lowbrow in search of status will reverse the process and hide Sexus under, say, Koestler's The Act of Creation. The camouflage problem is more complicated for the compulsive careerist, who always gets "some good new books" before he leaves on vacation. But how can he bury...
Miss Hill's contribution was a flat, dull translation, far worse than the other one available in paperback. Mr. Mullin, in addition, has his performers speak in a languid, graceful, hightragedy style. The humor is drowned by pauses that have no reason to be there, by lines that are stuttered over by the oh-so-slow manner of speech used by most of the actors...