That Jean de La Fontaine problematized the fable genre is now well known, thanks to American, British, and German criticism of the late 20th century. Even the French have reluctantly admitted this and dropped the Fables from the baccalaureat program, which privileges what Roland Barthes called the "readable" text, free of ambiguity, unstable irony, allusive metaphor, and aggressive (but usually covert) dialogue with earlier literature. Basing their projects on critical editions and schoolbooks composed under the old dispensation, previous Anglo-American translators of the Fables have perpetuated the image of La Fontaine as the Gallic Aesop, more intricately melodic and stylistically adroit, to be sure, but ultimately slick, straightforward, and commonsensical. Only Marianne Moore - in a self-indulgent and finally useless caprice - wandered away from that dubious model, making the French poems over in the quirky image of her own, often zoological masterpieces. Comes now Norman Shapiro, whose La Fontaine not only coincides with current understanding of the original but also also succeeds as poetry in English: subtly nuanced, dense, resonant, and compellingly rereadable. More than a prize, this rendering deserves a place with Terence Cave's The Princesse of Cleves, John Cairncross's Phaedra, and Richard Wilbur's Misanthrope in the classical canon "made new" for Frenchless readers of our time and place.