I say: The only reason I bought this was because of the title – it was right after I’d finished Lucky Jim and utterly obsessed with all things Kingsley Amis – and I am glad that I did; Wendy Cope is hilarious at times, touching at others, but always brilliant. The satire is sharp and unapologetic, the wit sort of hits you by surprise, and then there are a few poems with a final sentence that just makes everything stop, and you realise that however funny Cope may be, she’s also able to break your heart.
I’ve already read some of these poems a few times, and I have a strong suspicion that this is going to be one thumbed through many more times.
I’m going to type out the title poem simply because it’s so honest in its simplicity and cunningness:
Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis
It was a dream I had last weekAnd some kind of record seemed vital.
I knew it wouldn’t be much of a poem
But I love the title.
And so do I.
I’ll be on the lookout for more works by Cope.