Word: jacketful
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Speaking to a mock convention of the state's Young Democrats at Memorial Hall, senatorial and gubernatorial candidates were all gently hung up on the Kennedy image. Endicott Peabody, running for Leverett Saltonstall's Senate seat, spoke with the late President's mannerisms--the left hand in the jacket pocket, the cupped right hand jabbing forward in the air. Edward McCormack, running for Governor, invoked JFK's name with liturgical repetition, but his speaking style was more like that of the younger Kennedys. He still had the monotonously rhythmic Massachusetts voice, nervous, clipped phrasing. Like everyone on the podium...
...discharged, slightly wounding a housewife in the crowd. Unruffled, the Queen Mum went trout fishing in Lake Wanaka, catching nothing, despite her fine fly-fisher's wrist. She did set some sort of local record as the only angler who ever waded in wearing hip boots, sports jacket, and a large string of pearls...
Renaissance Man. Boyish enthusiasm sits poorly on a professor, but an urgency and eagerness that transcend enthusiasm can be gripping. At the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill, English Professor Osborne Bennett ("O.B.") Hardison Jr., 37, wears scuffed shoes, drooping socks and chalk-streaked jacket, goes everywhere accompanied by a kindly dog named Poppo, and makes literature an urgent affair. O.B. revels in Joyce, turns Kant dramatic, convulses his class by acting out John Donne's poem The Flea. Hummingly in tune with the student wave length, he translates the oracle's prediction in Arcadia ("An uncouth love which...
London last week, Director John Huston gave the go-ahead. The clapstick snapped: The David Niven Story. The cameras began rolling, and there, logically enough, was Niven, clad in an Edwardian velvet dinner jacket, lolling around the banqueting hall of a Scottish castle. Yet, illogically enough, at numerous other sound stages and locations around Great Britain, the same picture is also in the works under four other directors, and starring, variously, Peter Sellers, Woody Allen and a mesomorphic unknown called Terence Cooper. Even more implausible, the name Niven is never mentioned in any of the scripts. What's even...
BEAUTIFUL LOSERS, by Leonard Cohen (Viking; 243 pages; $5.75), is jacket-blurbed by its proud publishers as "a tasteless affront." They also call it "a religious epic of incomparable beauty," but they were right the first time. At its best, Losers is a sluggish, stream-of-concupiscence exposition of what Sartre called nausea. The flipster fictioneers have treated this theme so often that the method has become standardized: spit in their shoe, serve it to you. Novelist Cohen is all spit and no polish. His anti-hero is a Canadian writer who has had a homosexual affair with a Member...