Word: poetes
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Gloom hung thick over the group of 100 "prominent intellectuals" assembled in Manhattan at a "Theater for Ideas." The question for discussion was "The End of the Rationalist Tradition?"-and the answer seemed obvious. Pronounced Poet Robert Lowell: "The world is absolutely out of control now, and it's not going to be saved by reason or unreason." Said Author Leslie Fiedler: "Reason, although dead, holds us with an embrace that looks like a lovers' embrace but turns out to be rigor mortis. Unless we're necrophiles, we'd better let go." Intoned Norman Mailer: "Somewhere...
...Tennyson. I'm a great admirer of Tennyson, but I think courses haven't helped him and won't. Milton's the turning point. What most people need, though, with Milton more than anything else is to hear him really well read aloud. He's the most readable-aloud poet there is, magnificent beyond description...
From the day he was born in Brooklyn Heights, N.Y., there was little doubt that Paul would be involved in new and unfamiliar art. His father, Poet Louis Zukofsky, saw to that. Paul started on the violin at age four. After a year of study with Ivan Galamian (TIME, Dec. 6), Paul made his professional debut at eight with the New Haven Symphony. Meanwhile, his parents had stopped sending their prodigy to school after the first grade, partly because they felt they could do a better job tutoring him themselves. They did. At 13, Paul won a New York City...
...Allies. At Siegmaringen, French collaborators (including Celine) are huddled together, fearful of R.A.F. bombs, of their German masters and, most of all, of one another. In this bedlam, swarming with bizarre characters, are real personages from history like Pierre Laval and Marshal Petain, as well as the Communist poet Louis Aragon and Otto Abetz, Hitlers ex-Gauleiter in Paris. "A pack of the most rapacious wolves in Europe" Céline calls them, all betrayers of someone outside, all frenetically performing a dance of hate, fear and lechery...
...mass public mourning that swept over Russia at the news of the poet's death surprised the fashionable people who had known him mainly as a strange, seedy aristocrat, a facile versifier, and a nuisance. "We were acquainted with him," one foreign diplomat wonderingly observed to a Russian friend, "but none of you ever told us that he was your na tional pride...