Mad, good and dangerous to know

Spectator, The, Jul 9, 2005 by Leith, Sam

It sends you back to those late poems - spoilt, self-pitying, bogus - with a jaundiced eye. 'I have ... plotted perhaps too freely with my life,/ Not avoiding injury to others,/ Not avoiding injury to myself - / To ask compassion ...' Quite so. What a phoney. What a dogshithead. 'Art just isn't worth that much,' wrote Bishop in anguished italics. She was right.

Copyright Spectator Jul 9, 2005
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