Being a long poem which retells the medieval legend of Tristan and Isolde (here, Tristram and Isolt). The long poem genre was on life support even when this was written, and the poem is a good example of why; it's rambling, abstruse, and repetitious. The poem's action, such as it is, isn't terribly difficult to follow, and Robinson is a fine poet who can be counted on to drop in some beautiful poetry from time to time. Still, this basically comes down to two characters telling each other over and over how much they love each other, except when they don't. ( )

I read this in grad shool and was very struck by Tristram's joy at the end that the man who kills him is not Mark, also the opening and closing referring to Iseult Blanchemains, much more of a character in this verson. ( )