A Little Late for National Poetry Month, Guys

Stephen Burt considers the new Collected Poems of Philip Larkin, and delves into why some think it's worse than the old Collected Poems.

Few poets—not even Larkin's own model, Thomas Hardy (whose prolific output belied his gloom)—insist so profoundly on their antisocial bent. How could a poet so cranky find such a broad public—find himself not only admired, but embraced?

There's also some space given to discussion of "Brunette Coleman," Larkin's literary disguise for girls-school fiction which, when published after his death, some British reviewers found disappointingly pornographic. (Which is to say, not pornographic enough.)