Rating: 
Summary: I Think I Owe My Mother-In-Law a Big Apology
Review: You know the poetry. The kind the older generation uses for birthdays and farewell luncheons ("We hope that God will bless// You with good health and happiness!"). You hate it, the forced rhymes and imperfect metrical structure (indeed, what metrical structure?). My mother-in-law used to write like that - volumes and volumes of such tripe. Sadly, she has departed from us, but not before leaving tons of this stuff all over the house, and a half-finished vanity press run of 100 copies (anybody want one?).Now I know where she got the impetus for such poetry - Lord Byron! All of that generation's worst excesses of bad poetry come from Byron, I think. Embarrassingly forced rhymes, self-conscious commentary that frustratingly impedes the flow of the narrative, arch cuteness that threatens one's sanity - all there!! And he couldn't even finish it off properly. Truly, a work only an academic could love - or find any value in. If you are attracted to this book, protect yourself: Try reading it aloud and making a stop at the end of every line (sing-song-like) so you can at least get the sense of the rhymes. I found the Penguin edition serviceable (as Penguins usually are). And don't bother with the footnotes, just let it flow. Now stop being so hard on the older generation.
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