DO YOU TURN SOMERSAULTS? by Aleksei Arbuzov
In this jaded day, it takes nerve to present the shockaholic public with a romance unmitigated by violence, treachery, despair, psychosis or death, not even an ugly disease. A similar risk would be to serve Kool-Aid to cocaine sniffers. Surely the hazard is doubled when the offering is built on the doings of two gerontic specimens who do not even talk dirty or expose any personal equipage more intimate than the inside of an umbrella.
Such are the elected handicaps of Do You Turn Somersaults?, which began...
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