Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis - Wendy Cope
took this to bed with me like a good boy last night, but didn't really get on with it. it's very much a collection of poems for poetry connoisseurs, and not exactly the barrel of laughs promised on the blurb. more the kind of thing that people who laugh at everything when attending a theatrical performance laugh at.
if in ungenerous mood, i would describe it as being full of piss-takes of other, better poets. not that original either. Larkin is dull, Eliot is obscurely academic, Hughes obscurely naturalistic. half-way through her Wasteland limericks, i found myself getting out of bed and going over to the cupboard to get the real thing out.
she has a skilful eye for mimicry, and is an adroit rhymer, but i couldn't discover much else to hold my attention.
any Cope fans out there who want to argue her case?