Word: wanderings
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...village, custom requires that we hold a krutu, a sort of formal palaver, with the granman--grand man, the paramount chief--and his council, before we wander about. We gather in his hut with the village leaders. He is a compact man, with a slightly sad expression--sort of a solemn Redd Foxx--and a tuft of white beard clinging to his chin. During the krutu, one never addresses him directly, nor does he speak directly to others. All questions and responses go through the bassias, high-ranking assistants who serve as intermediaries, a custom that prolongs the meetings...
...with political infighting, with carnage and compromise, at the grass-roots level--Michael Collins meets Microcosmos. Indeed, for the first half hour or so, A Bug's Life is so dense with characters and illustrative detail that it nearly chokes on its own banquet. The filmmakers encourage you to wander through the glamorous terrain of their imaginations as if the picture were a product reel for 21st century cinema...
...Hamilton is night manager at the Eagle, a seedy Liverpool hotel whose habitues "wander in from twelve o'clock onwards...clutching at their down-below parts, ready for their lonely bit of action." The narrator of this slangy, tangy first novel from Britain has seen it all. Or so he thinks, until the Eagle falls into the hands of managers from the head office, who express concern for their "customer-stroke-guests" while remaining oblivious to the shenanigans under their noses. Throw in a racist thug, some lovable Cockneys and Rastafarians, and a whiff of violence...
Cousin says there are no comparable weekly outlets for jazz musicians to go and jam, although some Houses organize similar events for special occasions such as Arts First. Woodward has played at Loker, but prefers the Cafe. "It's homey," he says. "People from Dunster wander through in their slippers and the walls are lined with couches...
This is not, of course, the end of the story. Kassima has a strange sort of angel in her house, her tenant Mr. Mallory, an elderly eccentric who moved from Philadelphia late in his life to wander the streets taking photographs. Against her will, Kassima begins to care about her increasingly enfeebled housemate, another death in her life waiting to happen. If she can let Mr. Mallory matter to her, why not Robert Jones...