Word: scornful
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Ciardi dripped scorn on the internal structure of Anne Lindbergh's poetry, railed at the placing of commas and her use of grammar ("Am I to assume that Mrs. Lindbergh is actually illiterate?''). A line that went "Down at my feet/ a weed has pressed/ its scarlet knife/ against my breast" Ciardi scoffed at as "the neatest trick of the literary season...
...soon betrayed), a manly and serious Hector (who is ultimately butchered). And he offers in Ulysses a median figure, a brilliant yet unavailing man of the world. Such characters help deepen the play's mood, interrupt slithering words with resonant poetry, reveal not just the lashes of scorn but the salt tears of feeling. In its unevenness, Troilus does touch depths; in its waywardness, it does sometimes strike home...
...southern Quebec because its inhabitants never see much of the French-speaking Canadians, who surround them on every side. Georgeville looks much like a Vermont village because its original settlers came from New England, bringing with them their traditions of conservatism, content with slow and steady progress, and scorn for over-indulgence. Their descendents generally have upheld these affections, leaning not toward Vermont, a scant ten or so miles across rocky, easy, moulded hills, but toward English-speaking Canada. In architecture, the village has preserved the colonial tradition introduced by its founder, Moses Copp, in 1797; in attitude, Georgeville looks...
They belong to a generation whose future is unknowable: only 24% of this year's 140,000 college seniors have jobs in sight. The U.S. occupation taught the Sun Tribers to scorn the way of their ancestors but did not replace it with a direction they could respect. From the Americans they took only the easy externals. Their uniform is as standard as that of a geisha: the "Shintaro" crew cut and aloha sports shirts for the men, with loose-flowing Byronic shirts, zoot coats and pointed suede shoes for city wear; toreador pants for the girls with hair...
...madly before audiences of ardent ignoramuses. When at last a tough old professional assures her that she is no good and never will be, Cordelia runs to her bedroom, clutching a bottle of poison. Downstairs, her father's study stands empty. Frayed to the breaking point by the scorn of common-sensical people, father Aubrey has left his wife and family flat and run away like a hunted animal...