Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas

I have just finished Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas.

I read it very slowly, so it has taken me over a month.

The beginning is magnificent, but the rest is tedious and incomprehensible.

But perhaps incomprehensible is not the word.

I am sure it must be comprehensible at some level as so many people have admired the work.

I mean that I did not care enough about the play (or prose poem) to work it all out.

As I say, I took over a month to read it, so I gave enough time to it.

To me it just seemed smutty.  Perhaps when it was written (1954) the smut was enough to make it daring and avant garde, "exposing" provincial Welsh society and all its hypocritical respectability.  Now it just reads as Carry On Milk Wood.