Word: jacketted
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SAILOR ON HORSEBACK (A BIOGRAPHY) AND 28 SELECTED JACK LONDON STORIES Doubleday; 777 pages; $12.95 Jack London was the stuff of dust-jacket writers' dreams. His life read better than other novelists' plots. Before he was out of his teens he had, among other things, shipped on a sealing expedition to the Bering Sea, worked 14-hour days in a California cannery, ridden the hobo rails cross-country and served 30 days in a Buffalo jail for vagrancy. A heavy drinker by the age of 16 with a voracious appetite for undercooked meat and slightly overripe women...
...dissection of these wars is a risky business for novelists as well as for governments. Too far in one direction and a book is something to kill time?for those who like it dead. Too far in the other direction and a novel becomes pretension in a dust jacket. The author of The Honourable Schoolboy manages to skirt both terminals. But even he comes too close for comfort. Can the spy novel continue to grow without losing its value as entertainment? For David Cornwell?John le Carré?George Smiley, it is, in every sense of the word, a vital...
...strange initials on Britt Ekland's jacket? "R.S.G. stands for Rod Stewart Gone," shrugs Britt, 34. The Swedish-born actress and the British rock star once swore "faithfulness to each other in mind, body and soul." Alas, some other pretty face came along and faithfulness fled. Now, on grounds that "he became a superstar with my aid," Britt is suing Rod, 32, for $5.25 million -believed to be half his assets -and another $10 million in punitive damages...
...receptions and state dinners, Scotch and champagne flowed freely, and there were enough petit fours and napoleons to pave the Inter-American Highway. Hamilton Jordan, the Carter troubleshooter charged with getting the treaty through the Senate, testified to the importance of the occasion by showing up in a jacket and tie at a reception following the treaty signing. U.S. Protocol Chief Evan Dobelle, who had to arrange more than a score of identical red-carpet receptions, was described by one sympathetic observer as "busier than a centipede on a treadmill...
This mannered little comedy of bedroom hanky-panky aspires after wickedness-the word Nabokovian is used wistfully in the dust-jacket copy-and achieves naughtiness instead. But that is enough to sustain Author Fay Weldon's fifth novel, one of those lazy summer afternoon collusions in which the writer feels superior to her characters, and the reader smiles at the writer...