Word: sunlite
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...writing. He is on unemployment, but admits that he is "bourgeois" or at least "materialistic": the stereo was playing a Brandenburg concerto when I walked in, there was at least one plant hanging off the ceiling, and he began to talk--in the middle of a spotless and sunlit kitchen--after he had begun to drink the first of two glasses of hot cider...
There was about the incident a sense of chilling deja vu; only this time the President was not riding in a limousine. Instead, Gerald Ford was walking through a group of several hundred admirers in a pleasant, sunlit park in front of the California state capitol at Sacramento, shaking hands with people in his amiable, relaxed way. He was as pleased with his reception as John F. Kennedy had been with the crowds that had come out to meet him that day in Dallas in 1963. Once again, precisely at 9:57 a.m. on Friday, the threat suddenly materialized...
...emerge from anonymity as their speech patterns and private obsessions are repeated. The dialects begin to tease the ear with unheard melodies. Descriptive passages, when they occur, achieve a haunting beauty: "Where the bonita chop the surface, the minnows spray into the air in silver showers, all across the sunlit coral...
...stood for Pelham Grenville-had no halfhearted readers. He was either admired to the point of addiction or not admired at all. Like all fanatics, Wodehouse readers could only feel sorry for those who lacked the special sense of humor that allowed them to wander through the sunlit gardens of that little Eden at Blandings or to guffaw as the omniscient Jeeves pulled addlepated Bertie Wooster out of the clutches of his Aunt Agatha or the local constabulary. Wodehouse addicts had their own favorite characters. The author himself confessed he bent toward Lord Emsworth, the daffy ninth Earl of Blandings...
...agent for them. Amsterdam is filled with other people who seem to bounce off him at random, including a henpecked French intellectual and an American writer at work on a screenplay about Trotsky. Over the novel hovers a controlling symbol, the reiterated memory of the ten minutes in the sunlit, walled garden in Mexico in 1939 when Trotsky was murdered with an Alpine pick. Ramon Mercader is death-obsessed which gives it its greatest strength. ∙ Horace Judson