Word: criticizing
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...your critic suggests in his review of My Flesh and Blood frequently astounded at myself, but I am even more astounded by his accusation that I am "heavily humorless'' (TIME, May 11). Among the gifts which I have received from the fates I value none more than my funny bone. It is because of the delightful humor with which you manage to present the news that I enjoy TIME so immensely. But I don't like your review of my autobiography...
...Your critic speaks of the "many ponderous plums" which can be "pulled out of this (my) heavy Teutonic pudding." I like plum pudding but I always thought that it was an English, not a Teutonic dish. His description of me "thick-spectacled, thick-lipped and thick-nosed" wounds my Narcissism...
...Bodies). Barney Oldfield, smoking a cigaret, sat on the club house veranda talking to Jack Curley who once taught him how to ride a bicycle. Boxer Max Schmeling stood and looked at the crowd with his habitually puzzled expression. Actress Queenie Smith made excited comments to her escort Drama critic Robert Garland. Blind Thomas Pryor Gore, onetime Senator from Oklahoma said he liked Twenty Grand. John Hertz remembered the year his Reigh Count won the Derby. Jockey Earl Sande, who won last year, said he liked Mate and leaned his back against the paddock rail, waiting for the moment when...
...Author. John Peale Bishop, Southerner-born (in Charles Town, W. Va.), of the Princeton generation of Author Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald and Critic Edmund Wilson, seemed to have fallen by the wayside. After college and the War he and Wilson went to Manhattan to play the literary game, ran Vanity Fair together, published a partnered book, The Undertaker's Garland. Then Wilson went on to higher things, Bishop to France and Italy. He lives near Paris in a Louis XIII house. Many Thousands Gone (containing the Scribner $5,000-prize story of that title) is his second book...
...first: The Virgin and The Gipsy, TIME, Nov. 24) may not be his last word but it is a good place to stop. When published in Paris (1929) under the title of The Escaped Cock it drew words of high praise even from so belittling a Lawrence critic as John Middleton Murry. Devoutly orthodox Christians may find the story blasphemous (it will certainly be awarded a place on the Pope's Index Librorum Prohibitor urn) but regular Lawrence readers will doubtless take it as it was meant...