Word: reader
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There's nothing wrong with this, except that Greene supposedly wrote the book for the common reader. One of the few obligations he claims a writer has to society is "of not robbing the poor, the blind, the widow or the orphan...if we do less than these we are so much the less human beings and therefore so much less likely to be artists." In this deluxe coffee-table edition he has certainly robbed the poor, he has wasted paper, and most disgraceful of all, he's even robbed the blind, who cannot see his profusely illustrated money-maker...
...William Manchester, the son of a Massachusetts social worker, was ten years old. Boys five years older than he were earning $2.78 a week in the sweatshops of Brooklyn, as Manchester might already have learned. (Even at ten he was a compulsive newspaper reader.) But then prime rib roast cost only 21? per lb., and young Manchester could buy a ticket to see Jackie Cooper in the "talkie" When a Feller Needs a Friend for 10?. The real trouble was that 28% of all Americans had no income...
...President, 1967) is one of those writers who find their supreme joy only in the presence of a fact, and sometimes it doesn't seem to matter what sort of a fact it is. When Astronaut Neil Armstrong took his "one small step for man," the reader is going to know it was in a boot sized 9½B. The day President Eisenhower suffered his coronary thrombosis, Manchester, you can bet, knew what he had for breakfast: "beef bacon, pork sausages, fried mush, and flapjacks." Statistics tumble on the reader's head like the rich chaos from...
...carnality") and Fiorello LaGuardia ("swashbuckling five-foot-two-inch mayor") coexist in a kind of cartoon version of American folklore. About three pages are devoted to the life and times of Frank Sinatra-juxtaposed with a mini-history of the atomic bomb. In the spinning mind of the reader, the Bay of Pigs and the Edsel seem to loom as equal disasters. The Cliquot Club Eskimos and the Chicago Seven, J. Robert Oppenheimer and Howdy Doody-one is no more weightless than the other in such a time-capsule vacuum...
Tolstoy's diaries mesmerize the reader into a weird state of catatonic horror...