The image of Robert Frost nurtured by most Americans is of a white-haired, rustic saint writing poems about the mellow glories of nature and the pastoral idylls of New England rural life. When not shining in this bucolic light, he glows with a patriotic aura as America's Poet Laureate reading his work at the inauguration of John F. Kennedy, presaging through his presence the imminent wonders promised by the young president's election. But this idealistic image of Frost was more the product of marketing by the poet himself than a true reflection of any innate homespun charm. Frost was, indeed, a great poet, but he was also a bitter, egotistical writer who resented the late recognition of his genius. To understand how he came to be both the great poet and bitter man requires foraging in the woods of his life.

Robert Frost was...