I’m torn on Coleridge. For most of his poems I enjoy each stanza. However he does not seem to have heard of short poems. If I’m in a poetry mood I tend to lean towards the short. Poems hundreds of lines long, in some cases without even seperate verses, just take too much concentration: I feel the need to read some almost breathlessly.
Off to the charity shop for someone with better concentration than me!
This was not a good start to my Baileys challenge: I got 20 pages in and the writing style and subject were just irritating me. Skipped to page 100 and the writing style was the same breathless internal monologue, so I gave up. This one just wasn’t for me, so back to the library it goes.
I wanted to like this. Gill’s passion was infectious and made the subject matter not only one of design but also one of class and the difference between an artist and a craftsman. But somewhere in the middle when it went on and on about the details of the formation of different letters I lost the drive to keep reading. This also coincided with exciting books I’d ordered arriving by post and through the library system so I’ve decided its time to return it.