The Value of Criticism

Our friend Dove Dulcet, the well-known sub-caliber poet, has recently
issued a slender volume of verses called _Peanut Butter_. He thinks we
may be interested to see the comment of the press on his book. We don't
know why he should think so, but anyway here are some of the reviews:

Buffalo _Lens_: Mr. Dulcet is a sweet singer, and we could only wish
there were twice as many of these delicately rhymed fancies. There is
not a poem in the book that does not exhibit a tender grasp of the
beautiful homely emotions. Perhaps the least successful, however, is
that entitled "On Losing a Latchkey."

Syracuse _Hammer and Tongs_: This little book of savage satires will
rather dismay the simple-minded reader. Into the acid vials of his song
Mr. Dulcet has poured a bitter cynicism. He seems to us to be an
irremediable pessimist, a man of brutal and embittered life. In one
poem, however, he does soar to a very fine imaginative height. This is
the ode "On Losing a Latchkey," which is worth all the rest of the
pieces put together.

New York _Reaping Hook_: It is odd that Mr. Dove Dulcet, of Philadelphia
we believe should have been able to find a publisher for this volume.
These queer little doggerels have an instinctive affinity for oblivion,
and they will soon coalesce with the driftwood of the literary Sargasso
Sea. Among many bad things we can hardly remember ever to have seen
anything worse than "On Losing a Latchkey."

Philadelphia _Prism_: Our gifted fellow townsman, Mr. Dove Dulcet, has
once more demonstrated his ability to set humble themes in entrancing
measures. He calls his book _Peanut Butter_. A title chosen with rare
discernment, for the little volume has all the savor and nourishing
properties of that palatable delicacy. We wish there were space to quote
"On Losing a Latchkey," for it expresses a common human experience in
language of haunting melody and witty brevity. How rare it is to find a
poet with such metrical skill who is content to handle the minor themes
of life in this mood of delicious pleasantry. The only failure in the
book is the banal sonnet entitled "On Raiding the Ice Box." This we
would be content to forego.

Pittsburgh _Cylinder_: It is a relief to meet one poet who deals with
really exalted themes. We are profoundly weary of the myriad versifiers
who strum the so-called lowly and domestic themes. Mr. Dulcet, however,
in his superb free verse, has scaled olympian heights, disdaining the
customary twaddling topics of the rhymesters. Such an amazing allegory
as "On Raiding the Ice Box," which deals, of course, with the experience
of a man who attempts to explore the mind of an elderly Boston spinster,
marks this powerful poet as a man of unusual satirical and philosophical
depth.

Boston _Penseroso_: We find Mr. Dove Dulcet's new book rather baffling.
We take his poem "On Raiding the Ice Box" to be a pæan in honor of the
discovery of the North Pole; but such a poem as "On Losing a Latchkey,"
is quite inscrutable. Our guess is that it is an intricate
psycho-analysis of a pathological case of amnesia. Our own taste is more
for the verse that deals with the gentler emotions of every day, but
there can be no doubt that Mr. Dulcet is an artist to be reckoned with.