Word: poundingly
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...excuse himself for a moment to make a transaction on one of two dozen automated share-dealing terminals spread around the hall. He comes back smiling; another bet has paid off on a fast-moving stock. "China is changing, for sure. Before you could only buy half a jin [pound] of meat every month. Now you can buy as much as you want, if you have the money." Politics doesn't interest him much. "Zhu Rongji? I don't know much about politics, but at least Zhu understands the stock market." At 19 Lin Yan is too young to remember...
...West and Midwest crank belt, from Oregon to Iowa, where the drug is known as the poor man's cocaine in towns that barely had cocaine in the first place, the drug arrives nonstop from every direction and by every imaginable route. Wrapped by the ounce and the pound in duct-tape eggs that can be stashed in the air vent of a car, crank comes up the interstate from California and Mexico, where it's produced in massive quantities by organized criminal gangs...
Portrait did not sell well enough to relieve Joyce's chronic financial worries, but his work by then had attracted the attention of a number of influential avant-gardists, most notably the expatriate American poet Ezra Pound, who believed a new century demanded new art, poetry, fiction, music--everything. Such supporters rallied to promote Joyce and his experimental writings, and he did not disappoint them...
...explored the wide-awake city. This task, Joyce decided, required the invention of a new language that would mime the experience of dreaming. As excerpts from the new work, crammed with multilingual puns and Jabberwocky-like sentences, began appearing in print, even Joyce's champions expressed doubts. To Pound's complaint about obscurity, Joyce replied, "The action of my new work takes place at night. It's natural things should not be so clear at night...
...Henry and Charlotte Eliot. Although young Tom was brilliantly educated in English and European literature and in Eastern and Western philosophy and religion, he fled--in his mid 20s--the career in philosophy awaiting him at Harvard, and moved to England. There he married (disastrously), met the entrepreneurial Ezra Pound and, while working at Lloyds Bank, brought out Prufrock and Other Observations. Five years later, after a nervous breakdown and a stay in a Swiss sanatorium in Lausanne, he published The Waste Land. Modern poetry had struck its note...