Word: sweets
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...memorial skating rink; all but Jack put on rented skates and spent an hour playing tag on the ice and practicing figure eights. That evening, after the children had eaten, the Kennedy adults sat down in Father Joe's dining room to a groaning board: Vermont turkey, candied sweet potatoes, cranberries from nearby bogs and assorted pies...
...call what Scofield does a performance; it is an incarnation. Under the seamed cliff of his forehead, his eyes lurk in shadowed caves, agile, probing, grave, blithesome and wise. Scofield's art conceals art and achieves a translucency of spirit that summons up noble half-forgotten phrases like "sweet reason" and "gentle honor." In a superb cast, George Rose is comic as a ubiquitous Common Man, and Keith Baxter makes the young Henry VIII an uncut diamond of the Renaissance new learning...
...year that saw the hip little world of Author Norman (The Naked and the Dead) Mailer, 38, go clamorously smash -from last November's stabbing of his wife to his ignominious ouster from a February poetry reading for an alleged "raw recital of filth"-was ending amid the sweet smell of vindication. A Manhattan judge who likes to "gamble on human beings" last week gambled on a suspended sentence for confessed Spouse-Assaulter Mailer. Simultaneously, Mailer's Manhattan publisher, G. P. Putnam's Sons, was venturing a different sort of risk: release of the first collection...
...Christmas oratorio. For this easy good humor, Miss Addison's most musical and least melancholy voice is eminently suited; not once did she encumber the music with leaden emotions foreign to its spirit, or dirty it with less than perfect phrasing and dynamics. Her coloratura in the incomparable "Sweet bird, that shun'st the noise of folly" was remarkable for its clarity and restraint; and in the jolly "Orpheus himself may heave his head" her own humor was crisp and sparkling...
Sliced Cliché. But after all the tired titillation, freak free verse, exhausted experiment are sifted away, some gold dust and a few sizable nuggets remain. Sanford Friedman's Salamander (in New World Writing) is a sweet, sad, perceptive story of how a seven-year-old New York boy becomes a philosopher. B. H. Friedman's Whisper (in Noble Savage) is a softly sizzling portrait of the big-town big shot caught in the rat race and insisting he loves it. Joseph Kostolefsky, in the same magazine, refashions arty cliché with a lethal satire called...