Word: patchworks
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...worn clapboard cabin, the 113-year-old black body of Uncle Row Adams lay very still beneath the patchwork coverlet. Over his bed, his tall silk stovepipe hat hung on a peg in the wall. Through the dusty windows, his daughter Ella could catch glimpses of the worn-out Texas land. She wrote laboriously: "Sir. This to say Popa offi low. Now he done stop eating ennything, wont nothing and no one. I am riting let you no he no good. He might be living when you get hear and then he might not." A few hours later, when...
...President saved his heaviest fire for S.2790, a bill "to amend the Servicemen's Readjustment Act." Said Truman scathingly: "For reasons which are quite understandable, the Republican leaders of the House of Representatives insisted upon calling this measure a 'housing bill.' " This "hasty patchwork," he said, failed to provide farm housing, slum clearance, financial aid for large-scale home construction, prefabricated housing, or low-cost rental housing. Cried Harry Truman: "In this case, as in many others, the 80th Congress has failed miserably...
After 16 years of uneasy but unbeatable Democratic unity, the political patchwork which Franklin Roosevelt had carefully stitched together was coming apart at the seams. Quite obviously, the situation called for a master tailor with a masterly political needle. And the time for him to do his repair work was at last week's Jefferson-Jackson Day dinner in Washington. But no such wonder-worker appeared...
Disillusion. The Patchwork Time is Robert Gibbons' second novel. (First was Bright Is the Morning.) Born in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, in 1915, he began to write at 18, served during the war aboard an LST in the Pacific. His work is widely praised by such Southerners as Robert Penn Warren, Erskine Caldwell and Eudora Welty, seems typical of a growing school of graceless disillusionment in fiction, too accomplished not to be taken seriously, and too narrow not to be viewed with alarm by readers who respect its talents and potential contribution...
There is too much of everything in The Patchwork Time, too many recollections of childhood in the light of which maturity seems miserable, too many beers, too many fights, too many episodes all ending the same way, too many plots, too many betrayals, so that the reader's instinctive reaction is that it can't possibly be that bad, and that something fundamental has been left...