Word: versions
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Revolution and in proletarian education. Worst of all, "Red Guards in many places expressed their determination to go to the rural areas, border areas, factories, mines and basic units in order to integrate themselves with the workers and peasants." That, in the current lexicon of China, is the Maoist version of exile to Siberia...
...Stein & Day book improves pointedly on the translation. Where Castro's version spoke only of "discipline" or "pressure" on the Bolivian peasants, for example, Editor Daniel James, a former managing editor of the New Leader and biographer of Che, interprets the diary's euphemistic disciplina more accurately as "terrorism." The Complete Diaries also offers a supplement to Che's account by including the diaries of three of his lieutenants, all of whom recounted the bitterness of their last days as revolutionaries. And James reveals that 13 of the guerrillas slain with Che were actually high-ranking Cuban...
Oddly enough, Packard, who has made his life's work the shattering of middle-class shibboleths, seeks a solution to the problem in an almost belligerently bourgeois codification of behavior. It is his version of situation ethics. Three elements should be present, he says, before society bestows its approval on premarital sex: 1) "That a deep friendship based upon substantial acquaintance exists between the man and the girl," 2) "That both are out of high school; and if college is planned, that they have completed the first year of college if they are still teen-agers," and 3) "That...
...have adored, her actor father. Pamela carps about everything from Americans to taxes to pop art, saving her choicest vitriol for a rival actress she calls "Lady Tinker-Bell" and whom she dismisses as "that blowtorch Mary Pickford." (Played by Kika Markham, she looks more like a striking diminutive version of Vanessa Redgrave.) The role of Pamela is demanding and singularly graceless, but Jill Bennett (the offstage Mrs. Osborne) is singularly graceful, grave, bruised, disenchanted...
...going to stomp on me the way I had seen another crowd stomp on Rockefeller the day before and the way I knew this one was itching to stomp on Reagan. And in a way, I wanted to get up there on somebody's shoulders and render a version of Charlie's corny speech in which I would tell all those Reagan supporters a thing or two about the problems of this nation. But the spell was broken when Reagan himself drove up, smiling and waving, and worked his way through the crush to an elevator, which the Secret Service...