Word: witting
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ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD is this season's winner of the Drama Critics' Circle Award and the Tony. From Shakespeare's clay, Tom Stoppard has fashioned two contemporary characters of existentialist angst, Beckettian apprehensions and undergraduate wit...
Pablum & Tranquilizers. Bobby rapidly developed his own style, blending hard proposals, double-edged wit and a tough platform manner. The Johnson dropout deprived him of his prime target, but Hubert Humphrey soon provided another. Kennedy seized on H.H.H.'s "politics of joy" slogan to offer his own contrast: "If you want to be filled with Pablum and tranquilizers," he said in Detroit's John F. Kennedy Square last week, "then you should vote for some other candidate." Again: "Let's not have tired answers. If you see a small black child starving to death in the Mississippi Delta...
...fact, he suspects that he may die of it) should summon from every throat the cry of ecch. But softly, softly. R. V. Cassill, author of The President, is one of those happy few novelists who see sex as a vehicle rather than a destination and have the wit to take off something more than the heroine's clothes. Rodney Buckthorne is that ever popular fantasy figure, the artist in goat's clothing, who prances irresistibly through several marriages (his own and other men's), countless boudoirs, the stodgy academic community and the massed roadblocks of commercial...
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD, winner of the Tony Award for Best Play, takes a chip off the old Bard to construct a neo-Elizabethan existentialist drama. Brian Murray and John Wood are extremely adept as Tom Stoppard's nether heroes of flashing wit but blinking comprehension...
...through a series of abstract stances-a modification of the futurist and expressionist influences that swept the arts in the '20s-he never allows the reader to forget that fiction is essentially artifice. In King, Queen, Knave, the artifice may be a little too obvious, but intelligence and wit keep it working smoothly to the end. Nabokov himself could well have been thinking of this "bright brute" when he described a certain variety of butterfly he once discovered in the French Alps: "It may not rank high enough to deserve a name, but whatever it be-a new species...