Paul Muldoon

The Irish poet Paul Muldoon, who is in his mid-40s, has built a body of work that is perplexing and breathtaking at the same time. Since his teens, when he was noticed by the Northern Irish poets Seamus Heaney and Michael Longley, Muldoon has produced book after book, each of which outdoes its predecessor in both technical accomplishment and breadth of conception. Increasingly, from the short lyrics of Why Brownlee Left to the ""exploded and intercut"" sestinas that make up the bulk of The Annals of Chile, Muldoon has taken deeper sanctuary behind audacious formalism and oblique ambitions. For admirers of Muldoon as well as for those frustrated by the slick and evasive surfaces of his work, this is the book to have. Kendall, a research fellow at the University of Newcastle, examines Muldoon's career book by book, detailing the reception of each in England and Ireland and the personal background behind its composition. Most important, Kendall brings to earth some of Muldoon's most obscure references and shows them to be connected to a very private life. Wives, girlfriends, colleagues, a love of the high life, a brilliant career of reading and a sometimes bitter disposition are all parts of Kendall's critical exposition of the poems. And to discover that an acrostic reading of Muldoon's ""Capercaillies"" spells out ""Is This a New Yorker Poem or What"" is worth the price of admission. This is an essential work on an important, enigmatic and challenging poet. (Oct.)