I attempted to read this casually, for pleasure. This was an apparently foolish task. Much of the book, including entire poems, is not in English and has no translation. And much of what is in English seems to require cultural knowledge that someone in the 21st century simply does not have. There are some good bits. "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" is all right, although I can't really say I've read it since it begins with six lines in French, and I just don't care enough to look up a translation. I didn't have the patience to decode things when they got dense - I gave up on "The Wasteland" after two pages - because the language issue made the task seem futile. I mean, who includes Greek and Hebrew and half a dozen other languages in English poetry, without translation, with any intention other than alienating readers?

I think this book is maybe my favorite thing in the world right now. ( )

Sheer genius. ( )