From the Foreword:
I wish I could properly convey the enjoyment I have had in reading Mary Connell's poems, with their strange mixture of outrageous humour and suddenly between the lines a deadly serious undernote. When I read them first I remembered the pleasure which I had found in Stevie Smith's poetry of which at least one line, 'not wav ing, but drowning', has entered the language. There were two lines of Mary Connell's which set me to reading all her verses which came my way. They deal on the surface with the legend of the Prince turne3d into a frog and waiting for the kiss which would change him back.
"Am I kissing wrong frogs
Or am I kissing frogs wrong?"
I think most readers will make similar discoveries--funny? serious? or both?--and will welcome a new American poet.
Literature-Fiction, History-Criticism, Movements-Periods,