Word: saroyan
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Flying Trapeze Sir: TIME made these simple mistakes [in the March 28 story on William Saroyan's play, Sam, the Highest Jumper of Them All}: 1) Sam Hark-Harkalark [not Harkaharka-lark]. 2) 100,000 [not 500,000] defective ?5 [not pound] notes...
...Pure Saroyan?" You are determined to pretend that I must go back to something that is real only in your own head. Why doesn't TIME report the news of the late 19205 and the early 19305, when TIME first came out? TIME was really TIME then, and the news was really nicer news, wasn't it? WILLIAM SAROYAN London - *Sorry...
Good God. In the age of Beckett and Ionesco. Bill Saroyan's zaniness seems almost conservative. The new play has a bank clerk named Sam Harkaharkalark, a bank president named Mr. Horniman, and a succession of other Saroyantic types who deposit both cash and wisdom. Among them: a stripper named Daisy Dimple, a blind man who doubles as "squopper'' or tragic chorus, a gypsy who spouts Greek that translates into Saroyanese. ("All is not all. How could it ever be?" ) Also in the cast of characters: a girl who is having a baby by an American named...
...Good God" by error.) Sam is accused and fired. A priest gets hold of the cash and distributes it to unwed pregnant women who "promise to stop it." Sam develops "delusions of grandeur, paranoia and schizophrenia." and decides that he is the world's greatest high jumper. Understandably. Saroyan suggests that "any reality must come from the beholder. After all, a madman's fantasies are the most real thing in the world-to the madman...
Price of Peace. Still, Saroyan is laboring mightily to give the beholder a break. Nights and weekends he holes up in his $25-a-day Savoy Hotel room, bats out ten pages of dialogue every night. In the theater, his lugubrious, fiercely mustachioed face looms over a thick athletic frame that is forever on the move: he bounces onstage to demonstrate high-jumping technique or prowls the auditorium calling out sudden changes in the script. He carves the air with the sweeping gestures of an orchestra conductor, comes to roost like a stork, one leg cocked, on the rail...