Word: urns
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Electro (by Sophocles) has one of those scenes of naked emotional intensity that have been missing on the stage since Olivier gave his howl of self-recognition as Oedipus. It comes when Electra, played by Aspassia Papathanassiou, sees the urn that supposedly contains the ashes of her brother Orestes. She drops where she stands with a wild animal cry; she clutches at the urn, cradles and rocks it in entwining arms, spasmodically tries to breathe it back to life with words of love, smothers it with the salty, sightless kisses of tears, the strangulated sobs of a soul bereft...
...niche had been prepared for Foster's urn in the Kremlin wall, Communism's Valhalla. But portly Elizabeth Gurley Flynn, an old comrade of Foster's who had flown over from the U.S. for the funeral, had other ideas. "From you, dear comrades, we received his ashes," she intoned at funeral's end, "and we shall return them to our country for burial in the industrial center of Chicago where he lived and worked for many years...
Collected Poems, by Robert Graves. The bent-nosed Jove of Majorca has sometimes used prose as a pot in which to boil bestselling historicals (/, Claudius), but poetry is his sacred urn. On it, he engraves the moods and passions of love, childhood, and the classic past...
...Tunisian birth place and a Sicilian girlhood, she is a 22-year-old gift from the Mediterranean Sea. with dark hair, burnt-olive skin, perfect white teeth and a profile that drops exquisitely across her Palladian nose, mouth and chin, then pours forward boldly before it plunges past an urn of hips to the floor. Daughter of a railroad worker, she has been to all the right schools: a Sicilian beauty contest, the Venice Film Festival, the cover of Paris Match. French critics saw her in an Italian film called La Viaccia, and the fellow on L'Express...
...asset after their talent. "Mrs. Kerr is a real gay gal," says Mabel?but not in the early hours of her day. Then, like the heroine of Mary, Mary, she doesn't grasp things: "I hear voices all right, but I can't pick out the verbs." After an urn or two of coffee, she begins to pick them out?on a typewriter in the third-floor master bedroom. She has given up using the celebrated Chevrolet as an office, "because I ran out of places to park. People would drive past and wave." She is still engagingly casual about...