Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

Not his best work. Plodding, convoluted, low in rhyme, rare in wit. The page-long poems are scattered between Boston, England and the Caribbean - individually they are vaguely speculative and descriptive, collectively they are incoherent. The 8-page 'Tropic Zone' about Havana is the most extensive, coherent and interesting. But I only give this book 2 stars, at least on first reading. I suspect that if I reread it after a pause, I may find it better because Walcott is a good writer. But at his best he is far, far better than this.