Wilbur faithfully reproduces some of Moliere's more experimental versification in this update of Plautus' Amphitruo, the story of Greek general who is impersonated by the god Jupiter-- so that Jupiter can share a bed with his wife! Moliere, a master of farce, plays this mistaken identity to its comic hilt.

Wilbur's translation here is peerless and his Afterword is wonderfully informative. This is not my favorite of his Moliere translations (I like The School for Wives and The Misanthrope) but I'd be hard-pressed to name a fault. Voltaire said of this play, "I laughed so hard that I fell over backwards." I didn't fall over backwards, but I got a good chuckle or two out if it.

This is an extremely funny, well written (& translated) play; Wilbur does a terrific job with the English verse, which makes the play read like an original--rather than a translation. Finding a well translated version of non-english written plays can often be difficult (especially with so many translations available), but this one is truly terrific.

This was the first play I had read by Moliere, and it wasn't at all what I was expected. It is a very light, easy and hilarious read. I laugh out loud each time I read it.

When I was growing up, my mother read us children a book called "Loudmouse" by Richard Wilbur, illustrated by Don Almquist. We enjoyed it thoroughly, and I still have the copy we read, albeit in somewhat shabby condition. It is the First Crowell-Collier Press Edition of 1963. The $13 copy of Loudmouse available from Amazon.com is extremely disappointing because: * It is extremely small--less than half the size of the original. * It is printed entirely in B/W--the original had black and brown illustrations. * All the illustrations have been completely redrawn (apparently by the same artist). They look very different, and nowhere near as good. * Positioning of text and illustrations from page to page is totally different, killing much of the punch and excitement of the original book. I recommend that potential buyers wait for the book as it was originally published to be re-issued, before wasting any money on this version. --Darel Finley, smokin@ghgcorp.com, dfinley@telescan.com

My first exposure to this book was a storyteller who kept her audience of school teachers totally enthralled. Later, I ordered a copy of the book and have read it numerous times to my fourth grade classes and other teachers have borrowed it and read it to there classes!! Moreover, my grandchildren love to read it along with me! The formatting of the book had nothing to do with my enthusiasm for it!

I got this book when I was in elementary school (I'm now a senior in college) and I still love it. I plan on sharing it with the kindergarten class I'm working with.

This year I am using Jean Racine's "Phaedra" as the one non-classical text in my Classical Greek and Roman Mythology Class (yes, I know, "Classical" makes "Greek and Roman" redundant, but it was not my title). In Greek mythology, Phaedra was the half-sister of the Minotaur who was married to Theseus after the hero abandoned her sister Ariadne (albeit, according to some versions of what happened in Crete). Phaedra fell in love with her step-son Hippolytus, who refused her advances. Humiliated, she falsely accused him of having raped her.

My students read "Phaedra" after Euripides's "Hippolytus" as part of an analogy criticism assignment, in which they compare/contrast the two versions, which are decidedly different, to say the least. In the "original" Greek version Hippolytus is a follower of Artemis, and the jealous Aphrodite causes his stepmother to fall in love with him. Phaedra accuses Hippolytus of rape and then hangs herself; Theseus banished his son who is killed before Artemis arrives to tell the truth. In Racine's version Hippolytus is a famous hater of women who falls in love with Aricia, a princess of the blood line of Athens. When false word comes that Theseus is dead, Phaedra moves to put her own son on the throne. In the end the same characters end up dead, but the motivations and other key elements are different.

While I personally would not go so far as to try and argue how Racine's neo-classical version represents the France of 1677, I have found that comparing and contrasting the two versions compels students to think about the choices each dramatist has made. Both the similarities and the differences between "Hippolytus" and "Phaedra" are significant enough to facilitate this effort. Note: Other dramatic versions of this myth include Seneca's play "Phaedra," "Fedra" by Gabriele D'Annunzio, "Thesee" by Andrea Gide, and "The Cretan Woman" by Robinson Jeffers.

This book really needs improvment. I mean, the story has absolutely NO action! It is about three kids, Monk, Scho,and Glennie playing a game of catch,and then Scho all of a sudden, starts acting silly and stupid and said that he controled Monk and Glennie and made them do whatever he wanted them to do. So they that made Monk came up the branches to where Scho was, and pushed him off the apple tree.

I can't really recommend this book to anyone because adults will think that this book is boring and kids won't understand the GIANT, BIG long words that are in this book. So what I am basically saying is, don't buy this book!

Thank you very much. Your time is appreciated!

A brilliant short story of the ambiguity and paradox of adolescent relationships. Although ostensibly describing a situation as mundane as two boys consumed in a mindless game of catch when a third, gloveless boy appears, the depth of character of all three boys is richly and adeptly developed . Charater motivation is as complex and confusing to each of the three boys portrayed as it is for the reader. This brief story displays powerful insight into human behavior in breathtakingly few words

This book, with the amazingly original title, is a collection of four of Wilbur's earliest books -- The Beautiful Changes, Ceremony, Things of This World, and Advice to a Prophet. Rather counterintuitively, it begins with the latest book, Advice to a Prophet, and works its way backwards, so that if you read it front to back, you get a sort of anti-development of the young poet.

I would say that there are about fifteen good poems here, and two or three really great poems. Wilbur works with form meter and rhyme, which seems exceedingly rare in more modern poets, and when he does it well, it is a thing of beauty. "Love Calls us to the Things of This World" -- a poem about waking, angels, and laundry-- is wonderful, as is a naturalistic farewell letter to a dead friend, "The Mill". But too often he is clever with form -- too clever for his own good. He can say a thing beautifully, but you still wonder if it was worth saying.

A personal theory: Regardless of style, form, content, agenda or tone, a poet's singular task to develop a unique and distinct voice. Anyone worth listening to (poet, musician, philosopher, artist) has a distinct way of seeing the world, and the point of the art is to communicate that to the rest of us in some manner. Enough theory; enough to say that what seems to be lacking most in this collection of Wilbur's poetry is this quality of voice. I cannot tell you what type of poet Wilbur is, short of a formalist, and that's not the point. The point is there is no point. And that's the problem.

To come back down to earth. This poetry is accessible (sometimes at the cost of being profound) and is a good study in form. It is average with a leaning towards above-average -- the middle book "Things of this World", won the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award, because it more often ascends above the average. It's not bad poetry, but maybe there's a good reason these individual books have gone out of print and are unlikely to return. Not entirely unforgettable.

Richard Wilbur will probably never be viewed as a 'great' poet. His poems seem slight and perhaps too easy to comprehend in an age that has put a premium on dense and obscure poetry. His major success as a writer has been in his wonderful translations of Moliere's plays, but his poems offer the same kind of appeal as his translations - a keen sense of fun in lanuage, a fresh perspective and an economy of expression. I suspect that even readers who don't normally turn to poetry would enjoy the sense of play that underlies so many of these poems and the elegance with which he expresses playfulness. Even when the subject is serious, the leaness of the language, the selection of just the right word or phrase for the purpose, gives Wilbur's work a kind of classical timelessness. And if one likes reading aloud, the sound of Wilbur's lines has a full pleasantness that is a joy to the ear. Reading any of his poems a few times will leave phrases in the mind just begging to be repeated.

This is not poetry to rival Milton or Eliot for either thematic grandeur or emotional impact. But for the shear joy of thought embodied in language there is no contemporary poet whose work is more satisfying.