Word: readerly
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Nabokov’s ship—Pnin to indifference (against which he cracks), Kimbote to delusion (to which he succumbs), Humbert to lust (which drives him to kidnap and murder). The more forward motion these characters seemed to make, the clearer it became to the reader that they were stuck in the same place. But while Nabokov’s characters were ultimately the victims of their author’s mechanisms, they were also, fundamentally, the labors of a loving creator.It’s difficult to make the same case for Marcus Messner, the protagonist of Philip...
...only 3.2 lb., ideal for Virgin America's economy seats. As with most HP business-class computers, you get a slate of useful little features, like a teeny LED night-light at the top of the screen that pops out to illuminate your keyboard, minimizing spousal irritation. A fingerprint reader allows you to bypass password protection and log in to the laptop, or even to websites, with a thumb swipe. And a nifty built-in business-card scanner lets you line up a card along the front edge of the machine, tilt the laptop's screen down and snap...
...mail from a reader late last week with a bunch of very good questions about the bailout bill. I hadn't quite finished answering them when it was voted down in the House Monday. But since some version of the plan is likely to be resurrected later this week, I figured I should go ahead and finish...
...simple as it sounds. Ardai needed writers who could hammer out tales in the style of that less lyrical era, crude but effective books that dispensed with stylistic foofaraw and hooked the reader from the get-go with pure plot. (Sample first line, from David Dodge's The Last Match: "The guy who was waiting for me in my room merely wanted to blow my head off, that's all.") "Pulp fiction was written at high velocity by people who had a bill collector waiting at the door," Ardai says. So far, he has signed up some A-list talent...
...Suddenly, somebody notices bejacketed custodial employees approaching with trash bags, and the excitement mounts. As soon as one of them tears down the previous week’s layers of posters, the first dance begins. Seven or eight eager posterers mob the most coveted spaces—reader boards near Thayer and Harvard Hall. Soon more crowd around, getting more anxious as the virgin brown surfaces vanish from sight. Taken from afar, the untrained observer sees only an orgy of arms and tape, flailing and indistinguishable...