Word: poetes
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...than Pinkville. But one massacre is more than enough. My Lai is a warning to America that it, like other nations, is capable of evil acts and that its idealistic goals do not always correspond to its deeds. "Those whom the gods would destroy," wrote the late Thomas Merton, poet and monk, "they first make mad-with self-righteous confidence and unquestioning self-esteem." In the light of My Lai, Americans have little cause for feeling self-righteous, and much reason for self-reflection. The massacre may be only one betrayal of American ideals; but is it possible that there...
There is no hero. The central figure is Basho, the great 17th century Japanese poet. To this role, Nicholas Kepros brings a wry gravity of mien and a musical clarity of line delivery that merits his being called Zen Gielgud. Basho is on a quest for enlightenment, a radiant shaft of wisdom that will have the direct luminous perception of one of his poems...
...bourgeois father and an aristocratic mother, Luis became a brilliant pupil of Jesuit tutors. But upon reading Darwin's The Origin of Species, he started the opening battle in his long war against church and state. At the University of Madrid, he was an intimate of the revolutionary poet Federico Garcia Lorca and the genius-impostor Salvador Dali, with whom he shared two main interests, cinema and surrealism. Later, they made two pioneer films: The Andalusian Dog, notable for its explicit Freudian imagery and resolute non-meaning, and The Age of Gold, which contained frenzied images of a homicidal...
...bourgeois poet with the instincts of a grand seigneur" as Besterman puts it, Voltaire set out none too scrupulously to guarantee himself financial security. Before his 24th birthday, he had become an instant success with his first and most famous play, Oedipe, in which he used Greek tragedy to give vent to his lifelong hatred of absolute monarchy. A special lottery, which he manipulated to his advantage, was his first financial killing...
...second after each one, flashing a sly twinkle or a sheepish shrug as the poem demanded. The crowd loved the shrugs: each one said, What the hell, sounds good, don't it? The boyishness of his manner-you got the idea that the whole role of the Coming Poet strikes him as outrageously funny-endeared him to the audience. They liked him because he is profound, but they loved him be he thinks...