Word: parked
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Evanston, III., president: Spencer B. Marx '71 of Quincy House and Scarsdale, N.Y., managing editor; Julian R. Birnbaum '70 of Adams House and Caldwell, Idaho, business manager; Margaret J. Rizza '71 of Cabot Hall and New Britain, Conn. and Richard H. Rosen '71 of Adams House and Highland Park, III., poetry editors; Douglas A. Booth '71 of Dunster House and Beverly Hills, Calif., prose editor; Sarah Warren '70 of 103 Walker Street and Nahant, art editor; Elizabeth A. Campbell '71 of 56 Linnaean Street and Harvard, secretary; and Thomas A. Stewart '70 of Adams House and Glencoe, III., Dionysus...
That part of the conflict soon turned into a battle between giant federal departments, with Agriculture (which runs the forestry service) behind the development and Interior (which runs the park service) opposed to it. Before leaving office last month, Interior Secretary Stewart Udall finally approved the highway plan, noting that it would not result in the removal of a single redwood. However, both he and the Sierra Club had already created the impression that the developers would be violating a pristine piece of America's wilderness...
...What kind of tale can possibly evolve from such a gallimaufry of trivia? A dreamer on a park bench, a dim-witted bird fancier, a dead cat, an eight-year-old boy, a picture dealer, a handful of pigeons and an insurance agent-hardly the cast of War and Peace, I must agree." So speaks the witty but slightly (?) deranged narrator, park-bench dreamer, master painter and hero (?) of this fantastical and compelling first novel. The unlikely tale that does evolve draws the unwitting narrator into a plot to palm off one of his works as a Leonardo da Vinci...
...narrator's real name is never known, although he assumes names such as Lou Garrou, a play on the French word for werewolf. But beginning with his park-bench encounters and reveries -which are somewhat reminiscent of James Purdy's Malcolm-both narrator and reader are plunged into the dark underside of a surrealist life as lived by some decidedly improper Bostonians. Altogether betrayed by his faithless wife and conniving business agent who tricks him into painting the Da Vinci forgery, the narrator complains that he has been tipped into a "maelstrom of false marcheses, mercenary Bergamese whores...
Ionesco's Maid to Marry shares the second act with Apple Bit, and director Mary King Austin chose just the right juxtaposition. Its eminently civilized lady and gentleman are quite absurd. They sit on a 1950's park bench and vacillate between violently tearing up the Times and making profound comments on professions, future, past, ungrateful children. Not a wild west thriller by any means. Still, the patter's amusing...