Word: reader
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...reader observes Wilde's polite overtures to literary elders ("I take the liberty of sending you a short monograph. . . . It is little more than a stray sheet from a boy's diary"), watches with tolerance as the young wit, in an endless series of newspaper debates, carefully builds his reputation for outrageousness, and follows the unpredictable triumph of his American lecture tour, as the 27-year-old aesthete, dressed in velvet doublet and knee breeches, lectures enthusiastic Leadville miners on Italian art (Pearson's biography helps explain the Leadville success: it seems that Wilde wowed the miners...
...slightly more ravaged, cheek in return. The kissee, Mrs. John F. Kennedy, looked pleased; but the moment, recorded on nationwide television, brought some cries of public outrage. "Distasteful'' and "disgusting," sniffed the proper to the polltakers; and though Gossip Dorothy Kilgallen soothed one righteous reader by explaining that "it was the sort of 'social' kiss customary in high society," she went on: "it's the New Frontier, so you've got to expect the members to make a few new rules. Maybe kissing the First Lady on TV indicates an even higher status than...
...slightly unreal in an old-fashioned way, rather than, as is now customary, slightly unreal in a modern way. Jahn and Maria speak to each other not in ping-pong dialogue but in fine, prosy paragraphs; they are oftener apart than together; they love honor more. And the reader, to his surprise, may find that he likes them this...
Glory is a small town in West Virginia; Glory's voices are those of its citizens, living and dead. One by one they speak to the reader in eerie, faceless confrontation, telling their stories and the story of the novel's heroine, an embattled Public Health Service nurse named Marcy Cresap...
...parable in favor of rural electrification. The Voices of Glory. which should have been a great book, suffers irreparably from too villainous villains, too pure heroes, and a heroine who, if she were to carry that serum through one more mile of waist-deep snow, would surely prompt the reader to burn all his Christmas seals...