Word: seemly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Thus begins one of the most famed passages in English prose. Its author though posterity does not seem to think he knew how to spell his own name was one of the most brilliant figures of his brilliant day. Sir Walter Raleigh, whom his latest biographer calls "the last of the Elizabethans," spelled his name three different ways (Rawleyghe, Rauley, Ralegh) but never signed himself Raleigh. Biographer Thompson lists 68 different spellings used by his contemporaries. The Spaniards, to whom Raleigh was Public Enemy No. 1, called him various guttural equivalents, such as "Guatteral." However they spelled Raleigh...
...readers unaccustomed to Ford Madox Ford's style, Vive Le Roy might seem, almost purposely confusing. It might also seem as if everyone in the book were going about in disguise-Author Ford himself in a rather hasty imitation of E. Phillips Oppenheim. Those who are not too impatient to put up with his sighing way of writing may persevere through his ingenious plot and discover that he has written a thriller. But even Ford fans will not compare Vive Le Roy with Author Ford's War novels. Still a first-rate gossip at 62, some...
...brings news of the king's assassination in Paris; then denies it. Penthièvre and Penkethman grow more & more ambiguous; Leroy and Cassie remain naive and amorous. When they get to Paris the lovers are first delighted, then worried, by the attentions of these elderly gentlemen, who seem determined to be helpful but not to let them out of sight. After their first night in it, Leroy leaves their studio to deliver his dangerous package. Why he never gets to his destination, what becomes of him and Cassie, just how sinister MM. de la Penthi...
Except for the "Courtney Players" of the Showboat this movie is completely uninspired, with dull places in it that seem to go on forever. The Players are extremely amusing, however, and are worth sitting through the rest...
12th (Easter Sunday). Rose pretty betimes, and all a bubble, and glad to feel the warm sun on my face again. How happy did the dancing motes seem peopling the sunbeams and seeking out every speck of greyness, all too much in the Tower of late. This morning, also, playful cloudlets sailed across an open heaven; and below the natal earth brought forth many more Spring flowers and fresh odors. Glad indeed was I to be alive and young and my heart open to these earth's treasures...