Word: parisian
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...against four Viet Minh battalions, in the last big fight of the war. "The battle for the delta is a good battle," insisted General René Cogny, but his soldiers now knew that their purpose was useless. "All we're doing is wasting ammunition," grumbled a Parisian sergeant, "and maybe a few men who'll step on the mines. I've been four years in Indo-China and it's always been the same. We've lost, little by little, and there's never been...
...critics by his saucy phrases, e.g., hearing Violinist Jascha Heifetz overpower a sonatina "made one feel . . . that one had somehow got on the Queen Mary to go to Brooklyn." His compliments were apt to be delivered off his backhand: one composer, he said, "wrote Mexican music ... in the best Parisian syntax. No Indians around and no illiteracy...
...shootings, burglaries, thievery and other routine crimes he left to his staff to handle; the shadowy underworld which lies behind the beauty of Paris hardly knew his name. Baylot concentrated 16,000 policemen and his own single-minded will on hunting and harassing Communists. He was uncommonly effective: when Parisian Communists said the name of Jean Baylot, they spat...
...Tales, ably edited by Stanley Geist, a young American critic and writer living in Paris, offers the richer literary experience. The selections range from a Stendhal love story, as intricate as a Japanese tea ceremony, to a fragment of Swiftian satire by Baudelaire on the suicide of a Parisian street urchin. In between, Balzac, Zola and Guy de Maupas sant lash at the favorite whipping boy of French letters, the French middle class. Best yarns in the book are stories of simple nobodies by Gustave Flaubert and Joris-Karl Huysmans...
Yoghurt in Paris. At 32, pretty Kristina Czaykowska, the heroine of Paris Original, is a receptionist in "Maison Deschamps," a Parisian stronghold of haute couture. She feels more like a shopworn beauty than a sleeping one. In the spring of 1947, she is three years away from her native Warsaw and eight years estranged from a husband who opted for the "People's Poland." She lives on yoghurt and corn bread, scurries home each night to her lonely, thimble-sized flat, and keeps telling herself that Paris is wonderful. But the only Paris Kristina knows, the goldfish bowl...