about "how singular" it was that they could not agree upon Keats's epitaph. Good word, singular, given the plurality of dissenting opinions. Fortunately there are truly comic aspects to the whole tragic business, and [Stanley] Plumly is at his best when he finds himself able duly to relax (without ever relaxing his intelligence) as he comes to investigate Keats's brief encounter with Coleridge: "There are three versions of this one-and-only meeting between the obscure young poet and the established, renowned figure." We should put our money not on either of Coleridge's confections, but on Keats's catching of Coleridge's cascades of speech:I walked with him at his alderman-after dinner pace for near two miles I suppose In those two Miles he broached a thousand things--let me see if I can give you a list--Nightingales, Poetry--on Poetical sensation--Metaphysics--Different genera and species of Dreams--Nightmare--a dream accompanied by a sense of touch--single and double touch--A dream related--First and second consciousness--the difference explained between will and Volition. . . .
from The New York Review of Books: Keats's Afterlife
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