Word: proust
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...Proust to Plato. Offstage, the Laughtons live a quietly busy life in a small (for Hollywood), eleven-room house that has little ground of its own but, happily, faces on 50 acres of a neighbor's orchards. Elsa works steadily at her non-paying job with Hollywood's Turnabout Theater (TIME, May 24, 1948), and shuttles between nightclub engagements in Manhattan and Los Angeles. Charles has rearranged their living room into a studio where he trains the dedicated and largely unknown young actors of the Charles Laughton Players. When he goes to bed, he surrounds himself with books...
...warbles shamelessly in the accents of others. Hortense Calisher is in the rare situation of having both birds in the cage at once: her first volume of short stories, In the Absence of Angels, gives the impression of being an anthology of compositions by disciples of Marcel Proust, George Orwell and Elizabeth Bowen-and one seriously talented writer named Hortense Calisher...
...pseudo-Proust is, all inadvertently, the funniest of Author Calisher's impersonations. In Point of Departure, a double soliloquy conducted by the two members of a love affair, the interminable sentences curl so concentrically and wearily that they come to sound like a playback on a run-down phonograph. The Bowenism is a sight more readable. Letitia, Emeritus, the story of a "backward" girl whose seduction by a prurient old teacher topples a domino-row of calamities, is managed with the firm Bowen wrist and the sure fingering of details. Yet, somehow, though Author Calisher has fingered her characters...
...grand entry "with what appears to be a real peacock tail." Colette left the stage to marry a distinguished politician and journalist, Henri de Jouvenel. They were divorced, and in 1935 she married her present husband, a journalist named Maurice Goudeket. But she never stopped writing. By 1919, Marcel Proust himself was shedding tears over her love story of World War I, Mitsou. In 1920 the great Gide breathlessly read Chert at a sitting, declared it had "not one weakness, not one redundancy, nothing commonplace...
...immediate success. Novelist McCullers herself made good copy. She was a round-faced Georgia girl with bangs, who worked at her writing between 4 and 8 a.m., before going off to a daytime clerical job (she had lost one job when caught reading Proust). On top of that, the critics decided that her book, a somber, wide-eyed look at small-town Southern life, was really first-rate...