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London Review of BooksHofmannsthal, with no completed novels to his name, was probably always going to be severely handicapped. Of the three recent selections in English—a little sputter of interest from the last ten years that probably marks a diminuendo as much as a revival—only J.D. McClatchy's makes any sort of effort to represent him in his fullness and variety, with a clutch of poems, a couple of stories, some essays, the first scene from Der Rosenkavalier, and two plays: that comedy, Der Schwierige, and the risible late tragedy The Tower, in an equally risible translation by Alfred Schwarz.
— Michael Hofmann