Style in any writer is more than quirkiness of manner or some notable bias of usage or direction. This is especially the case with W. H. Auden, as few writers in any century have emerged into public view so fully fledged in recognisable plumage. The thirties produced for him an early apotheosis, 'The Auden Double Number' of Geoffrey Grigson's New Verse (1937), decently adorned with a Faber advertisement for 'Vin Audenaire' and collecting a host of tributes to the thirty-year-old poet from the established and famous as well as the neophyte tastemakers. Here, bringing their offerings, were such unexpected Magi as Edwin Muir, George Barker, Dylan Thomas, Herbert Read, Sir Hugh Walpole and even Ezra Pound (jokey but impressed). Just before this, Auden's celebrity was capped by Wyndham Lewis's questioning, 'Who's this new guy who's got into the landscape?' By the time of the publication of New Country (1932), the poetry community was coming out in an Audenesque rash - as in the tribute from Charles Madge in 'Letter to the Intelligentsia':