Word: staled
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Most of the endless flow of novels about broken marriages rest on a few well-tried fictional supports: the triangle, intrusion of job or career, incapacity to keep loving, failure to communicate. Most such books read as if they were inspired by the stale, paid advice of a marriage counselor. In Strangers, Tunisian Novelist Albert Memmi writes with relentless can dor of a far grimmer marital crack-up in a far more ferocious setting than is usually found in the bored, semi-Freudian cold war between American husbands and wives. If Author Memmi's lovers never have a chance...
...neutralists' inexperience and unpredictability, the day of the Africans at the U.N. represented something new and as yet only half realized, something strong and, at bottom, hopeful. For long years, the cold war reduced the U.N. to stale factions divided by a kind of international discomfort-index into those who were proCommunist, antiCommunist, and those who hovered in between. But last week the mold was broken as the holdouts, with the new nations added to their ranks, suddenly became the U.N.'s biggest "bloc" and the U.N. took a startled new look at itself. What...
...head of the U.S. Bureau of Narcotics. TV is in the hands of "lentilheaded sponsors' wives" and represents "some sort of gargantuan hoax," with one or two exceptions. (His own talk program, Alex in Wonderland, which is now being syndicated nationally, "is as refreshing as a breath of stale air in a vacuum.") As for people in general, they are "adenoidal baboons" caught in life's "erratically op erated sausage machine...
...down a walnut tree under which Rilke had written a poem rather than walk farther for firewood-and knew at the same time that nothing good would come of that lot. Through her beauty and her faith in the things unseen, Regler eventually came to see his politics as stale and inhuman...
Endless Walkathon. Would-be philanthropic heavens too often become pluperfect hells. Just into his teens, the hero in The Good Light still has partial vision, but the first thing that assails him at the Blind Institute is the smell - paint, sour beer, and wet floor mops. The food is stale bread, dry cheese and gruel that the sightless inmates wolf down like animals. When the boy says good morning to his schoolmates, no one turns a head. He has entered a world in which nothing exists until it is touched...