Word: thoughte
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...rather Redonesque treatment of lighting, color and brush-work. Its monumental figures (note the left foreground personage or Messaline herself) and themes are straight out of the Golden Age, giving Lautrec a new dignity as a creator of significant content which I, for one, would never have thought possible...
Greater Than Mozart? An ungainly giant of a man ("No land, nor clime, nor age/ Have equaled this harmonious boar," wrote one acquaintance in reference to his overeating), Germany's Handel became a symbol of beefy British solidity. Since his death, he has often been thought of as a kind of stodgy musical ecclesiastic, partly because of the ceremonial repetition of his Messiah, partly because of Handel's own susceptibility to mawkishly awkward texts-most notably in the numerous bird songs like "Hark! 'Tis the linnet and the thrush" in Joshua...
When he entered Harvard in 1922, he concentrated at first on mathematics because he thought it had something to do with the banking business. But the sea was in his blood, and in his junior year he discovered Professor Henry Bigelow, who was then officially a zoologist but whose real interest was oceanography. Columbus gave up all thought of banking. He ordered the schooner Chance built in Nova Scotia, on graduation set off in her for the icy coast of Labrador with a crew of college students on his first oceanographic trip. The student-scientists fraternized with Eskimos, exploded firecrackers...
That's Freedom. From the moment Fred realized he was in, he had only one thought: how to get out. One day he stole credentials belonging to a bunkroom buddy, went quietly over the hill and presented himself at a Trappist cloister under the first of his false identities: Anthony Ingolia. Demara was well aware that he had committed a crime, but at first he felt no guilt. Later, he was deeply disturbed by the Pearl Harbor attack. "I wanted to do my part," he has explained. "I like this country, you know. Where else but in America could...
There is a school of thought which holds that bullfight bores are more deserving of ball-bat anesthesia than jazz bores, but this school is wrong. A bullfight bore may re-enact Manolete's death spasms, but a jazz bore will replay the same Charlie Parker record, with contrapuntal commentary, until his woofer melts. The public ear has been grievously bent, and therefore any novel about jazzmen that is fresh, authentic and ungummed by cultism is an achievement...