Word: womanized
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...interviewer who has dropped out to do some soul searching in Southern California; a woman writer with the disconcerting habit of throwing her voice at crucial emotional moments; a dim-bulb movie star and her producer paramour, who keeps his wealth in a sock drawer and begins too many sentences with the phrase entre nous: these are the featured players in New York Disc Jockey Jonathan Schwartz's resonant first novel. At a glance, it may seem another tour of Joan Didion's empty existential horizons -damaged people failing to communicate in a dry land. But Schwartz...
...denying that I am different. I am a woman and black. Both these are but two details in the configuration of a personality as complex and confused as anyone else's. Of course my sense of myself has been to some degree informed by these factors--and I would like some day to explore them to find out why I have turned out as I have. That day is going to be a long time coming, for I am not about to explain my life in the primitive vocabulary of this ignorant writer and her Dear Friend...
...problems of writing. I signed up and entered the room where the meeting was held in a mood of excited expectation that the meeting with someone whose work you admire inspires. She arrived a half-hour late, coming from a dinner held in her honor and accompanied by a woman described as a dear friend whose wrist the elderly writer clasped throughout the evening, as if for strength. An adulatory hush came over the room as she began to speak in her rambling, stammering, repetitive way. After about twenty minutes of this, I broke in and asked what seems...
NEAR THE end of that interminable three-hour talk, the writer recalled a gracious, but condescending professor's wife whom she and her husband had known at a college where she was a visiting lecturer. The woman, upon meeting her husband, a printer, made a point of learning a lot about printing, presumably so that she'd be able to make conversation with him and put him at ease at faculty dinners. "She didn't realize," The writer said softly, "that of course my husband could have talked with her about any number of subjects." I was chilled...
Unfortunately the exploitation of women's bodies to peddle almost anything is commonplace as evidenced by the beer ad on the back page of the Saturday, March 17 Crimson, the issue containing the poster article. The ad features a drawing of a young woman throwing off a beer label wrap to reveal her big-breasted, round-bottomed, scantily-clad body...