Names make news. Last week these names made this news:

At his home near Havana, Nobel Prize-winning Novelist Ernest Hemingway

packed his fishing tackle and got set to fly to Peru, where he will try to catch a star for the movie version of his novelette, The Old Man and the Sea. Hemingway's quarry: a Pacific black marlin weighing at least 1,500 Ibs. (world-record catch and heftiest fish ever taken by rod and reel: 1,560 Ibs.).

The University of Miami's Irwin Luck, 18, tyro tunesmith, proved his sophomore flair for big-time promotion. Weary of begging Crooner Perry Como to plug a passel of Lucky lyrics, Floridian Luck anted up $500 of his own savings plus $350 from his real-estate man papa, bought a month's space on a huge (20 ft.-by-60 ft.) billboard near Times Square to make his plea public. Excerpt from Luck's open letter to Como: "I pray that you will give me the chance to meet you and maybe hear you sing one of my numbers." Easygoing Crooner Como gee-whizzed, promised to give Composer Luck's songs a hearing, maybe a warbling.

Tireless Anthologist-Poet Louis Untermeyer, 70, paused in Denver long

enough to predict that the U.S. will burgeon in the next half-century as the

world's great cultural mecca. Said he:

"We're ready for our renaissance, our

great Golden Age . . . Westward the course of culture!"

The U.S. liner Constitution hove to off the port of Monaco one morning last week and set Hollywood's Grace Kelly aboard Deo Juvante II, the virginal white 138-ft. yacht of Grace's groom-to-be, Prince Rainier III. All Monaco broke loose. Rockets zoomed, sirens screamed, dockside trolleys klaxoned, cannon fired 21-gun salutes. Ashore, the crowd--Mone-gasques, outlanders and the cream of world jewel thievery--dutifully roared. Overhead, a seaplane belonging to Sea Lord Aristotle Socrates Onassis, controlling croupier of Monte Carlo's famed Casino, bombarded Grace and His Serene Highness with 500 red and white carnations. Aboard Deo_ Juvante the lovers closed for a buss, were thwarted by a fast block thrown by Grace's arm-held poodle Oliver, settled on an awkward, unromantic handshake.

On his first public outing with Grace, the Prince rolled forth in his green Chrysler Imperial, was roadblocked by some 50 photographers, angrily retaliated by barring the lensmen from his palace and Wednesday's civil wedding (the religious ceremony is two days later). Wedding gifts kept pouring in, karat upon karat. From the principality itself and the Casino came, according to Newshen Inez Robb, "some basic or all-purpose diamonds": a $224,000 set of gem-crusted earrings, bracelet, necklace, ring and clips.

Meanwhile, Monaco's most guarded nuptial secret lay in the sad tale of unaccepted wedding invitations by Europe's crowned or once-crowned heads. As of week's end, when Egypt's fat, foolish ex-King Farouk promised to be on hand (if he could bring one of his Albanian bodyguards), he was the only purple-robed guest expected. In Britain the royal family had found time to be at the wedding of a Scots Guard captain (a cousin of Queen Elizabeth II), and a cameraman caught a reflective shot of Princess Margaret at the ceremony. But the precedent set by the Court of St. James's, which sent to Monaco a mere marshal of its diplomatic corps, seemed to bind all other European royal houses in sympathetic boycott of the Monacan rites.

The State Department's perturbed Assistant Secretary for European Affairs (and Ambassador-designate to Canada), Livingston T. Merchant, Princeton '26, fired a wire to the Princeton debating society that has booked Convicted Perjurer Alger Hiss for a speech (TIME, April 16). The campus appearance of ex-State Department Employee Hiss, warned Merchant, "would do lasting and irreparable damage to Princeton." He urged the undergraduates of his alma mater to reconsider their offer of a rostrum to ex-Lawyer Hiss (Johns Hopkins '26, Harvard '29), a onetime casual Washington acquaintance of Merchant's.

On the eve of the serialization of the throbbing memoirs of the Duchess of Windsor in Britain, the Church of England Newspaper and the Record, an unofficial reflector of many a churchly view, emitted an editorial groan at the prospect. The duchess' side of her story, now appearing in the U.S. in McCall's magazine, will begin running this week in London's Sunday Express, directed by Lord Beaverbrook, a foul-weather friend to the Duke of Windsor during his abdication ordeal. The Baltimore-bred duchess, lamented the religious organ, "albeit unintentionally, has already caused great damage to the monarchy . . . Need she add to the damage now? Surely . . . the Duchess would have been better advised to remain silent."

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