The Birth of the Imagination is an impressively thorough “developmental study of the form, structure, and content of Williams’ poems,” from Poems (1909) to The Wedge (1944), that also features individual chapters on the prose works Kora in Hell (1920), The Great American Novel (1923), In the American Grain (1925), and Embodiment of Knowledge (1974) (4). Holsapple succeeds in offering a refreshingly new perspective on the poetry of one of the most canonical American modernists, chiefly as a result of the following two elements of his work. First, rather than approaching Williams's poetry through a particular theoretical, historical, or cultural framework, Holsapple overwhelmingly takes Williams on his own terms. He traces Williams's use of key concepts such as “truth,” “beauty,” “perfection,” “imagination,” “contact,” “structure,” “measure,” “form,” and “value” throughout the period of thirty-five years under consideration and devotes considerable space and attention to clarifying the precise meanings and connotations of these often vague terms. Frequently, this results in striking close readings of poems and essays by Williams that occasionally clarify misinterpretations and misconceptions of other critics and convincingly challenge hitherto widely accepted views. Second, Holsapple discusses to an unprecedented extent Wassily Kandinsky's likely influence on Williams and similarities between Williams's poetics and Alfred North Whitehead's Science and the Modern World. Perhaps most intriguingly, with regard to Kandinsky, Holsapple argues that stages of the development of Williams's poetics, from Al Que Quiere! (1917), over Kora in Hell, to Spring and All (1923), can be associated with Kandinsky's notions of “impression,” “improvisation,” and “composition” (88–91). With respect to Whitehead, Holsapple shows that “Whitehead confirmed several propositions fundamental to Williams, most conspicuously in regards to locale or ‘place’,” which Holsapple traces from Williams's Contact editorials, through The Great American Novel to Spring and All and In the American Grain (124, 236).

By focussing on Williams's poems, prose and essays in their own right, relegating questions of influence to the background and dispensing with additional theoretical concepts, The Birth of the Imagination goes against academic trends and serves as a helpful reminder of the wealth of insight that can be gained from the works of the artist alone. In doing so, it also beautifully illustrates the power of close readings, as master of which Holsapple unmistakably emerges. Yet, impressive and overall convincing as Holsapple's approach might be, it also bears dangers or problems that need to be acknowledged. By reading Williams's poetry primarily alongside other writings by Williams, Holsapple might sometimes lack critical distance. On the one hand, while he criticizes Carl Rapp's idealist and J. Hillis Miller's proto-post-structuralist interpretations of Williams for systematizing “a poet who repeatedly protested the pretensions of philosophy” (39), it is not entirely clear whether he completely escapes this trap himself (see, for example, 303). Holsapple's account of the “evolution” of Williams's poetics in the first seven chapters, in particular, might occasionally appear almost too teleological and raise the question whether he admits at all the possibility of breaks or revisions on Williams's part. Chapters 8 and 9, which describe precisely such a break and contrast it with the continuous progress discussed in the preceding chapters, for exactly this reason, seem to be the strongest and most interesting ones. On the other hand, problematic opinions held by Williams, such as sexist or racist views, or, related to this, Williams's idealization of the “other,” tend to receive little or no commentary, which sometimes leaves a strange aftertaste (see, for example, 75–76, 99–100, 201). An appendix in which Holsapple challenges the view held by a number of critics that Williams was influenced by misogynist philosopher Otto Weininger, even if convincing, does not significantly alleviate the impression of a reluctance to discuss uncomfortable aspects of Williams's thought.

Yet such doubts or reservations must not undermine or distract from the great achievement that The Birth of the Imagination undoubtedly is. With his skills and expertise, Holsapple demonstrates how rich and satisfying an experience the study of poetry can be, and this certainly calls for more. Many great poets lack and would deserve a study of this kind, while a similar discussion of Williams's works after The Wedge would also be highly welcome, even though Holsapple occasionally refers to the later poetry, specifically to Paterson (1946–58).