Chic is a convent for unloved women.
Anatole Broyard Quotes
Such a fatigue of adjectives, a drone of alliterations, a huffing of hyphenated words hurdling the meter like tired horses. Such a faded upholstery of tears, stars, bells, bones, flood and blood...a thud of consonants in tongue, night, dark, dust, seed, wound and wind.
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- Ernst TollerComments on: "Anatole Broyard Quotes: Such a fatigue of adjectives, a drone of alliterations, a huffing of hyphenated..."
| Birth: | 16th July, 1920 |
| Death: | 11th October, 1990 |
| Nationality: | American |
| Profession: | Critic, Editor, Writer |
About
Anatole Paul Broyard was born in New Orleans. He was an American writer, literary critic and editor for The New York Times. In addition to his many reviews and columns, he published short stories, essays and two books during his lifetime. His autobiographical works, Intoxicated by My Illness and Kafka Was the Rage: A Greenwich Village Memoir, were published after his death. After his death, Broyard became the center of controversy and discussions related to how he had chosen to live as an adult in New York. A Louisiana Creole of mixed race, he was criticized by some blacks for "passing" as white as an adult and failing to acknowledge his African-American ancestry. Multiracial advocates though have cited Broyard as an example of someone forging their own racial identity long before it was acceptable in mainstream America. As the writer and editor Brent Staples wrote in 2003, "Anatole Broyard wanted to be a writer -- and not just a 'Negro writer' consigned to the back of the literary bus."
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