Word: reader
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...schools, Princeton and genial genealogy, Fielding is descended on his father's side from Novelist Henry Fielding, related on his mother's to Naturalist William Temple Hornaday. After a brief postgraduate career as a mutual funds salesman, Temp turned to the typewriter and sold his first article to the Reader's Digest in 1940. He was then called into the Army and sent to Fort Bragg, N.C., where his commanding officer assigned him to write a guidebook to the base. That book was the prototype of Fielding's Guide to Europe?chatty, chuckly, problem-solving, a little patronizing: ("Each regiment...
Much of what follows, unfortunately, should not be imposed on any reasonably alert reader. Though the author, a young Harvard Medical School student, deserves good marks for his science, fiction is his failing. The level of the prose is droningly simplistic-a prose style only partly justified by the fact that the main characters are laconic scientists. The characterization of the scientists and the lush seem to have been retrieved from the memory bank of some tired computer. And the magic of the gadgetry gradually cloys and clutters in the mind...
...intelligent reader, that lame dog who often feels the need for help over styles, will find many familiar Lowell mannerisms. Among them: the dazzling fast shuffle of historical cards from different decks, imperial Rome, Emerson's Boston, Wren's London. There are, as always, several Lowells: Lowell the improper Bostonian, the politically engaged, the scholar, traveler and eclectic New England importer of foreign cultures. Lowell the poet has not only the chameleon's ability to change the color of his verse to fit the subject but that wizard lizard's faculty of independently focusing each...
Robert Pharr's prose often clumps along awkwardly, and his construction sometimes creaks. His art is at its apparently artless best when he simply shows the reader the teeming, sensual, violent ghetto, letting the vernacular of the streets crackle through his pages...
Davis Grubb tells his fool story just right. The reader is not bitten by the wooden false teeth till page 172, too late for him to pretend that he knew they were lurking all the time in the sinister West Virginia underbrush...