conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Whistling, Anyone, Frederica with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Literary?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'A Whistling Woman'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first four paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A Whistling Woman
  He was in some sense prepared for falling in love with Marcus Potter, because he had previously, for two years altogether, been hopelessly and occasionally painfully in love with Raphael Faber. He had meant Raphael not to notice this. Raphael himself was an ascetic on principle, with a fastidious hypersensitivity partly owed to his family's wartime experiences in prison camps and invaded cities. But Raphael was a man who used his apparent asceticism to charm and to tempt. He was delicately greedy. He liked to be loved, by both men and women, though he returned love only fitfully, and with cruel intermissions and endings. He liked the dance of flirtation, retreat, advance, turn back, turn face, retreat, advance. If Hodgkiss had wanted to play this game—which he did not—he would only have lumbered ludicrously. He used his intelligence to keep his distance, which prolonged the situation, since the distance aroused Raphael's sexual curiosity, piqued him, led him on. Hodgkiss was tormented by Raphael's carved lips, by the fall of his lovely hair. He wanted to have Raphael to himself, and noted an inconvenient tendency to see everyone as rivals, which Raphael, elegantly and secretly, encouraged.
  All this dance went on without a word being spoken. The two men were friends, as they had been before, and were to be again after. It was primitive and civilised. When Hodgkiss—partly to break this spell—decided to move to North Yorkshire—Raphael exhibited an uncharacteristic agitation. He touched his friend, on meeting and parting, as he had not done. He visited late at night—with a serious question about Wittgenstein and silence—and stayed to say "He did sleep with his young men, didn't he? You would know."
  Raphael should then have taken the lead, and did not. Vincent, overeager, clumsy, hot with embarrassment and obscure anger and simple desire, initiated a quick and clumsy love-making that he still remembered with anxiety and shame. Afterwards he held Raphael's fine body in his arms in the firelight, kissed his collar-bone, and said "That should never have happened."
  Raphael's sharp lips brushed his bald patch, which was the part of his body he most disliked, and Raphael's fingers explored the protrusion of his belly, which was his other place of shame.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Wijnnobel, Hodgkiss, Calder-Fluss and Wilkie met to discuss the opposition to Theobald Eichenbaum. Calder-Fluss was of the opinion that it might be a good plan to call in the police. With the vandalism, and the pamphlets, and now libellous posters about animal experiments, eugenics, and proto-Fascism. Wijnnobel said that if you called in the police, the matter became a criminal investigation, in their hands, not the University's. Hodgkiss said he was sure that what the core of the opposition wanted, was that the police should be called in. It didn't follow, unfortunately, that anyone could guarantee that Professor Eichenbaum could give his paper without some major disruptive act. Wilkie said why not ask Eichenbaum himself, and Hodgkiss said he would prefer not to perturb him. He had a right to speak freely, and was an invited guest. Wilkie said he must have been the object of a lot of this sort of thing already. Wijnnobel said no, he had not been. The offending 1941 paper had not been translated—or returned to life, so to speak—until Pinsky had sent it to him. He did not know how—or when—the Anti-University had got hold of it. Hodgkiss remembered its arrival. He remembered Pinsky's letter. He remembered, suddenly, the excited comportment of Nick Tewfell.
  He saw no point in confronting Tewfell. That would be what Tewfell wanted. He saw no point in mentioning Tewfell to the Vice-Chancellor. He rather hoped the whole problem would go away. He must have known it would not, he thought much later, without being able to think of any very good course of action he might have taken. All they could do was to be vigilant, he said.
  Hodgkiss, looking nervously at the audience, for he did not think of himself as a brave man, gave his paper on Wittgenstein's ideas of colour—which did not include any discussion of the physics of wavelength, or the physiology of the retina, but did somehow describe the mind describing its own operations.
  Surtees pulled the covers off, like a magician unveiling sawn women. They were horribly life-like effigies, squat Eichenbaum, pale Pinsky, and the unmistakeable long lined face and lanky figure of Gerard Wijnnobel. About one and a half times life size, with papier mâché masks.
  Surtees said little did he know. There was an army of protestors, coming to join the cause, from Essex and the LSE and further-flung places. They were rolling up the A1 in buses and vans as he spoke. They would need signs to carry. There would be music.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: There would be music.. They would need signs to carry. They were rolling up the A1 in buses and vans as he spoke. There was an army of protestors, coming to join the cause, from Essex and the LSE and further-flung places.
  Surtees said little did he know. About one and a half times life size, with papier mâché masks. They were horribly life-like effigies, squat Eichenbaum, pale Pinsky, and the unmistakeable long lined face and lanky figure of Gerard Wijnnobel.
  Surtees pulled the covers off, like a magician unveiling sawn women.
  Hodgkiss, looking nervously at the audience, for he did not think of himself as a brave man, gave his paper on Wittgenstein's ideas of colour—which did not include any discussion of the physics of wavelength, or the physiology of the retina, but did somehow describe the mind describing its own operations. All they could do was to be vigilant, he said. He must have known it would not, he thought much later, without being able to think of any very good course of action he might have taken. He rather hoped the whole problem would go away. He saw no point in mentioning Tewfell to the Vice-Chancellor. That would be what Tewfell wanted.
  He saw no point in confronting Tewfell. He remembered, suddenly, the excited comportment of Nick Tewfell. He remembered Pinsky's letter. Hodgkiss remembered its arrival. He did not know how—or when—the Anti-University had got hold of it. The offending 1941 paper had not been translated—or returned to life, so to speak—until Pinsky had sent it to him. Wijnnobel said no, he had not been. Wilkie said he must have been the object of a lot of this sort of thing already. He had a right to speak freely, and was an invited guest. Wilkie said why not ask Eichenbaum himself, and Hodgkiss said he would prefer not to perturb him. It didn't follow, unfortunately, that anyone could guarantee that Professor Eichenbaum could give his paper without some major disruptive act. Hodgkiss said he was sure that what the core of the opposition wanted, was that the police should be called in. Wijnnobel said that if you called in the police, the matter became a criminal investigation, in their hands, not the University's. With the vandalism, and the pamphlets, and now libellous posters about animal experiments, eugenics, and proto-Fascism. Calder-Fluss was of the opinion that it might be a good plan to call in the police.Wijnnobel, Hodgkiss, Calder-Fluss and Wilkie met to discuss the opposition to Theobald Eichenbaum
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last three paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: They stood together and looked over the moving moor, under the moving clouds, at the distant dark line of the sea beyond the edge of the earth. In the distance, the man-made Early Warning System, three perfect, pale, immense spheres, like visitors from another world, angelic or daemonic, stood against the golds and greens and blues. Frederica said to Leo "We haven't the slightest idea what to do." Everyone laughed. The world was all before them, it seemed. They could go anywhere. "We shall think of something," said Luk Lysgaard-Peacock.
  I owe much to my translators, and have discussed this work with Jean-Louis Chevalier, Anna Nadotti and Melanie Walz. Claus Bech has provided both endless interesting facts and words, and extraordinary understanding.
  My publishers, Alison Samuel and Caroline Michel, have been both warm, wise and patient, as has my agent, Michael Sissons. My editor Jenny Uglow is the editor all writers hope for—clear-minded and enthusiastic, a true reader.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In the distance, the man-made Early Warning System, three perfect, pale, immense spheres, like visitors from another world, angelic or daemonic, stood against the golds and greens and blues. Frederica said to Leo "We haven't the slightest idea what to do." Everyone laughed. The world was all before them, it seemed. They could go anywhere. "We shall think of something," said Luk Lysgaard-Peacock.
  I owe much to my translators, and have discussed this work with Jean-Louis Chevalier, Anna Nadotti and Melanie Walz. Claus Bech has provided both endless interesting facts and words, and extraordinary understanding.
  My publishers, Alison Samuel and Caroline Michel, have been both warm, wise and patient, as has my agent, Michael Sissons. My editor Jenny Uglow is the editor all writers hope for—clear-minded and enthusiastic, a true reader.