[Enright's] personal commitment has been profound, and often courageous. But it has resulted in his verse becoming a sustained lament for the ineffectualness of art—'man's slight nonmurderousness'—in a world controlled by politics and economics. It is hard to see how much more can be got out of this theme after the present volume [Unlawful Assembly], although the writing is as sensitive and likeable as ever. Unlawful Assembly repeats the topics and attitudes of several earlier books, with little new added and with rather less energy (the poems are less observant and pointed than they used to be). Enright continues to write appealing, but slightly tired, accounts of places and politics, casting wry glances at cultural foibles, shrugging off causes with sad, cultivated weariness. 'Writing Poetry in a Hotel Room' ironically echoes the proud detachment of some Fifties poetry…. One trouble is that the irony has become an automatic response. No one writes on these things with a more compassionate perception, but it is sad to see an interesting talent standing still. (pp. 362-63)