Word: prose
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...amazing old man of 79 spoke slowly, and his lisp was more pronounced. But the wit was as nimble as ever, and the orotund prose as incomparable. In a sly reference to his reputation as a brandy drinker, he called for a glass of water and downed it, remarking with a twinkle: "I only do it to show you that I can." Churchill hailed Eden's achievement at London as "a monument and a milestone in our march toward peaceful coexistence," paid generous tribute to the U.S. (see JUDGMENTS & PROPHECIES), spoke again, wistfully, of his dream of coexistence with...
Cassandra, who writes in longhand, seldom consults a note or reference source, is more interested in getting his prose right than his facts. Meeting Cassandra in person for the first time, says one old friend, is like being "involved in an extremely unpleasant motor crash." But neither his barbed manner nor the arrogance of his column is any accident. Says Cassandra: "I know how to be hostile, suspicious and skeptical. I can wield these unlovable qualities like a whip...
...consenting only afterward, would make treaties and direct foreign policy. At book's end, the hero reluctantly decides to accept a second term to avert a widening split between Hamilton and Jefferson and thus save the new republic. And at that point, Historian Freeman's stiff-backed prose comes to a halt. Scribner is now looking for a suitable historian to write the concluding Volume VII, bringing George Washington through his last six years...
...bewildered in a "home," where the matron refuses to read him the racing news. In the predictable tensions of the novelette-a middle-aged headmaster takes a teen-age cousin into his home, over the jealous opposition of his elegant, childless wife-Author Taylor finds unpredictable perceptions. The prose is studded with jeweled vignettes, e.g., the school matron: "As smooth as minnows were Mrs. Lancaster's phrases of welcome; she had soothed so many mothers, mothered so many boys. Her words swam all one way in unison, but her heart never moved." Several of the short stories are little...
...flat-chested . . . When she saw a man she wanted, she took him. She'd beckon him over, and off they'd go ... And whatever she did, she remained well-bred." Russian to the core, Isabelle was prone to cries and lamentations which she often expressed in admirable prose. She explained: "Why do I prefer nomads to villagers, beggars to rich people? Aie yie yie! for me, unhappiness is a sort of spice ... I love the knout!" To Author Blanch, Isabelle Eberhardt represents the "blessed annihilation of self," the woman "free of all the little deadly fetters of everyday...