Allow me to sketch your ideal of poetry, your ‘norm’ with which you measure every poet: your poetry must be in serious relation to actuality, it must have a firm grasp of the actual, of the object, it must be in relation to life, it must not be cut off from direct vulgar living, it should be normally human, testify to spiritual health and sanity, it should not be personal in the sense of indulging in personal dreams and fantasies, there should be no emotion for its own sake in it … but a sharp, concrete realization, a sensuous particularity. The language of your poetry must not be cut off from speech, should not flatter the singing voice, should not be merely mellifluous…. I would ask you to defend this position more abstractly and to become conscious that large ethical, philosophical and, of course, ultimately, also aesthetic choices are involved. (Scrutiny, 5 [1936–7], p.376.)