Oxymoron?

Paging through an old New York Review of Books this afternoon, listening to Ennio Morricone music, I find an ad for a book that sounds almost an impossible concept: Hitler's War Poets.

Is it even possible for such a regime to have real poets?

Probably, I am afraid. But I wouldn't be the one to judge.

the book cover has a portrait of an intellectual looking man, sensitive face and glasses, wearing the uniform of the Death's Head division of the SS. Oh well. Ars longa.