Word: toplessness
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...news editor in 1965. She is known for her pithy writing style, and often tartly exposes the foibles of the jet set. Her scrapbook includes a satiric report on a meeting of high-powered feminists that was thrown into an uproar when one of the participants decided to go topless, and a story on Willie Morris' fall from the editorship of Harper's that brilliantly exposed the machinations of the publishing business and "the literary pack" in New York. When she is not working, Curtis heads to Cleveland, where her husband, Dr. William Hunt, lives. When she moves...
...cabarets--which have an air of being recent revivals--the striptease shows have taken poses from Liza Minelli (her film is immensely popular on the Kurfurstendamm) and one establishment has the latterday name of "Lola Montez." There are still touches of the bizarre: a poster advertises topless dancers parading engagingly as boxers--gloves, helmet, Everlast. The political cabarets have become almost purely theaters, and the shows are tame; one has closed down to become a children's theater. One laughs at jokes about the Nazis; nowhere is there anything resembling Gunter Grass' famous description in The Tin Drum...
...shepherds. There is something unreasonably disturbing about the jets that suddenly roar up from Tempelhof over the city center, or the patrolling helicopters close to the border. The East still has the air of an armed camp: soldiers everywhere; temporary kitchens, tents and loudspeakers for a world youth festival; topless ruins...
...nearly 400 pages, The Great American Novel is part of the same line. Ostensibly a baseball epic of the 1943 Ruppert Mundys, the book is to contemporary fiction what silicone injections are to topless dancing. It is an extravagant mockery of form, a freak show aggressively thrust at the public. "Read me big boy till I faint," Roth seems to be saying, in a paraphrasing of Portnoy's burlesque-queen fantasy. He seems to have cleaned his desk drawers of every party bit and wild turn. He has also researched his subject, spending hours at the baseball Hall...
...worth knowing, in the context, that I tend to fall in love randomly, helplessly, with no provovation. With Gladys Knight, Cybill Shepard Kodak advertisements, Candy Bergen Life covers, librarians, bank tellers, and one topless dancer. That was the worst. Imagine the trauma of deciding the girl of your dreams was peeling, in front of the hardest core perverts, in a Combat Zone dive. And now, I'm in love with various elements of roughly six women. It's not an easy life...