chapter  97
2 Pages

Louise Bogan, Review,'new Yorker', April 1945

Hence, we grow familiar with our fright and fidget; we see just what these are; we come to the realization that we are not, we cannot continue to be, like that; and so, in its own way, Auden's poetry carries out its admirable therapy. Nevertheless, it would be a great mistake to concentrate solemnly on the therapy. For though we now see that Auden is one of the most seriously intelligent minds of his generation, he remains deft, agile, dexterous. And joy in dexterity is a right kind of morality also. So let us be joyful in it.