It has been 20 years since David R. Slavitt invented Henry Sutton and embarked on a series of schlock novels under that pseudonym. But it is still fun to recall people's outrage when they learned that The Exhibitionist was the work of someone who had also written more serious fiction, and even poetry. On the one hand, people of Jacqueline Susann's ilk were irritated because someone had done easily and laughingly what they worked hard to do; on the other hand, purveyors of solemn literature were offended at the success of this prostitution of talent. Even Tom Wolfe, who had no reason to feel either envious or superior, took a cheap shot at Slavitt's next serious novel, saying in a review that it was not as good as The Exhibitionist.

Meanwhile, having found a way to excuse himself from grantsmanship and literary politics, Slavitt kept on working. By 1975, when he published Vital Signs: New and Selected Poems, he had behind him 16 books: four Sutton novels, six Slavitt novels, and six books of poems. Vital Signs established Slavitt as one of the most interesting poets in the country.

From the beginning, Slavitt's poetry has been characterized by profound wit, neoclassical attention to form, and a generous erudition. Slavitt is also a master of tonal variety; within the same poem he can make shifts of tone which most poets would find too risky. Up through Vital Signs, which added 85 new poems to the selection from his previous volumes, Slavitt's poetry was fairly consistent: often cast in