Word: prose
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...solution: analysis by music instead of by words. His criticism of Mozart's String Quartet in D Minor (K. 421) broadcast last week from Hamburg, convincingly demonstrated that a few snatches of music, pointedly juxtaposed, can make a sharper comment on a composition than a column of critical prose...
...painstakingly spliced pieces of Anderson's dialogue, sometimes borrowing the words of one character for the mouth of another. When he ran out of the dialogue for big scenes, he decided to let them speak to each other in stilted excerpts from the book's descriptive prose. Perhaps authors henceforth should be warned by the Dramatists' Guild that anything they say may be used against them...
...serious animus: its real intention against Eliot is not to tear him for his bad verses but to attack him for his principles-which Eliot once oversimplified in his self-description as "an Anglo-Catholic in religion, a classicist in literature, and a royalist in politics." Lapsing into angry prose, Author Purcell elaborately accuses Missouri-born Thomas Stearns Eliot of being a reactionary, a Christian, an American, a spoilsport and ployer of anti-lifemanship, a sociologically irresponsible escapist. In a typical passage, Purcell complains that "The very great improvement in the living conditions of the working classes" after World...
...second novel, The Bridge of San Luis Rey. "On Friday noon, July the twentieth, 1714," he began it, "the finest bridge in all Peru broke and precipitated five travelers into the gulf below." It posed the intriguing question: Did they die by accident or by divine plan? Its prose was clean and classical, its characters adroitly limned and it was constructed with the delicacy of a motet. But it was essentially a tour de force, and Wilder's publishers were surprised at its runaway success. Bridge won the Pulitzer Prize, sold more than 2.000,000 copies, was translated into...
...restaged his old no-soap opera. This time the shattered city is Hollywood. The Girl on Wilshire Boulevard is a blank-souled beauty with a neurotic yearning for stardom. The sentimental, insensitive G.I. is a few years older and wryer-a screenwriter on leave from his wife. The prose still has an unwashed smell, but it has been sponged off here and there with the English lavender of Henry James. The details are still gutsy. In the earlier book, a lonesome U.S. soldier tries to make a pet of an owl, thoughtfully breaks its legs so that it will...