THE vogue of the anthology is a peculiar and depressing symptom of contemporary taste. There is a wry significance in the fact that during the past ten years, when poetry has almost ceased to count as a cultural influence, anthologies have appeared in flocks. An anthology is a hold‐all, and value‐for‐money has a sure appeal in times of economic and intellectual bankruptcy. It is pleasant and convenient to have several hundred (in one case a thousand) pages of verse in handy compass and at a low price.
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