
Even the two or three poems that escaped this reader’s understanding are forgiven for the sprightly mischief and intelligence of the entire volume. The poems as a whole capture the poignancy of human relations and, at the same time, enact the cyclical folly of a constant search and a constant frustration with the search. In many ways they—and Ignatz-- illustrate Puck’s famous observation, “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”

