Word: writes
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...Navy's war against integration of the services, never retreating from his belief that despite the A-bomb the Navy as a fighting and landing team should be the nation's first force. Then, in 1947, came a brain hemorrhage from which he recovered enough to write, with a collaborator, Fleet Admiral King, a third-person account in which, with typical reticence, little of his inner self was revealed. Its most poignant sentence (in the introduction): "It was only by the unanticipated timing of fate that any use was made of my experience...
Only Communist Party members in Russia had been given an inkling of all this earlier. At cell and district meetings couriers from the Central Committee have appeared with a copy of the speech. Short excerpts have been read, which members have been warned not to write down, and the courier has then returned with his precious document. Gradually, from an initial sense of shock, party members have been brought to a state of high hope and expectancy for the future. Last week the Central Committee evidently thought that the time had come to extend its propaganda drive to take...
With a contract for two piano rolls a week, Scholes and his wife moved to Switzerland, which was kinder to his bronchitis, and settled down to write a compendium for the common, or musically uneducated music lover. The famed Dr. Johnson waggishly defined a lexicographer as "a harmless drudge." Scholes makes no attempt to refute the gibe, in fact rather proudly points to some of his own drudgery; e.g., he meticulously checked numberless musical scores rather than reprint other men's findings, with the "minor" result that he explains and translates "probably a greater number of musical directions than...
Hello, Baby (Fred Astaire; Verve). A song that slips in amidst the hurly-burly of modern pop songs about as unexpectedly as a soft-shoe dance in a rock 'n' roll show−and brings as much relief. Astaire, who helped write the relaxed lyrics, sings them with nice feeling, as always...
...Dreiser, Sherwood Anderson, Sinclair Lewis. He thought Henry James "was an idiot, and a Boston idiot to boot, than which there is nothing lower in the world, eh?" F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby was "poor stuff." Said Mencken of Hemingway: "The man can't write. Just a bad boy, who's probably afraid of the dark." As for Faulkner, "there is no more sense in him than in the wop boob, Dante . . . the man hasn't the slightest idea of sentence structure or paragraphing." Angoff drops an amusing footnote to the famed "Hatrack" episode...