Word: white
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Larger interracial issues are ignored. Asked if Julia will ever be involved with a white man, Diahann says: "I don't think that's of primary importance. There's a great deal of sensationalism in that now, while the interaction of the black man and the black woman has not been explored at all and needs to be." In the meantime, the series will, as in the Dec. 24 episode, wallow in lesser issues like Corey's argument with a neighbor boy about whether or not Santa Claus is white. Title of the segment...
...standards of TV, this sort of treatment works; Julia is currently ranked No. 6 in the Nielsen ratings. Analyzing those numbers, NBC statisticians report that Julia attracts an "upscale" audience -more urban, wealthier and better educated than the average. There are no indications of either a boycott by Southern whites or heavier tune-in among blacks. Predictably, though, Negro militants are outraged. And, to be sure, Julia is rarely confronted with the tough problems of being born black. She would not recognize a ghetto if she stumbled into it, and she is, in every respect save color, a figure...
...Pursue. One of the greatest sportsmen of all time was a medieval French knight named Gaston Phebus, Comte de Foix, who cut a dashing figure in the 14th century with his white armor and white charger. Renowned not only as a huntsman but as a lover, a poet and a diplomat, Gaston kept a stable of 600 riding horses, hundreds of stag, buck and boar hounds, and the fastest fleet of greyhounds in medieval Europe. The chase in the Middle Ages was an immensely sophisticated pursuit. Knowing better than any man of his day how it should be pursued, Gaston...
...hunt party's lunch, moves on to more sophisticated exercises like setting snares or stalking wild fowl with an artificial cow. One of the most charming illuminations illustrates the high art of camouflage. The huntsman, drawn in a simple wagon by a white palfrey, has concealed himself and the wagon behind leaves and branches...
They may not be real, but they are certainly presences-insistent as memory, disturbing as a sudden hush in a crowded room. Ghostly white, implacably still, they command a whole ambiance around themselves. Step too close to the motel bed with its sprawled, exhausted girl, and you feel as awkward as an intruder. Even the simplest figure-a naked girl slumped on a chair by a window, a woman emerging from a shower stall-seems not just a piece of sculpture but a centerpiece of some invisible living space. The mind's eye creates walls, curtains, furniture that...