Word: secretion
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...still another story, "The Secret," by Miss Ann Allison, everything is there but that final coherence which makes a story come together. It is written well, and with a feeling for character and mood, but it seems to have Implications. Nothing is wrong with Implications, except when it isn't clear what they imply. This adolescent profundity produces the most irritating literature known to man, and "Radditudes" should put up a special mechanism to keep it out. It is a constant threat in the March issue. Especially in the poetry...
According to an old Arabian proverb, brought out of the Old World as a theme for "The Secret Heart," "there are three things you cannot hide--love, smoke, and a man riding on a camel." According to a waggish U.T. aisle-sitter, there is a fourth--the relation of this proverb to the rest of the picture. At any rate, MGM has beaten together another Freudian free-for-all combining misunderstood childhood and the Navy's views on darning socks in so mangled a melee that even the participating psychiatrist doesn't know all the answers...
Finally the whole business was settled in secret meeting by the leaders of the two parties. The deal was that the new Congress would meet this week and confirm Dr. Enrique Hertzog, 49, as successor to the late, lynched Dictator-President Gualberto Villarroel. Hertzog had beat Luis Fernando Guachalla by only 289 votes in the January elections. In return for the settlement made with Guachalla and followers all challenged Guachalla congressmen were to be seated, thus assuring the Guachallistas of at least a fair chance of controlling the new Parliament. Hertzog promised to invite his friend and rival to join...
...makeup, especially, Grand-Guignol-eurs excel. Their piece de resistance is a boiled, partly skinned head (the actor is wrapped in a silk stocking and daubed with putty, sponge, cloth and "blood"). The theater has a secret recipe for blood; when the stuff cools it coagulates and makes scabs. Thrill-hungry customers in the small auditorium get a dividend when they overhear the hoarse backstage whisper: "Vite, Edmond! Warm up the blood...
Despite its lyric title and a preface by T. S. Eliot, there is nothing poetic about this book. It is the harrowing story of Polish citizens nabbed by Soviet secret police in 1939-41 and packed off as prisoners to the dark side of the moon-i.e., forced labor in Soviet Asia...