So just a few things about the book.
(1) You should know who Paul Verlaine is before going in (e.g. famous French poet, Baudelaire contemporary, had an affair with other poet Arthur Rimbaud and went to jail for trying to shoot him, also went to jail for apparently trying to kill his mother...? You can tell that the background reading won't be boring.).
(2) The book doesn't really have a plot. It's just the last few days of Verlaine's life. I won't lie, it's a total bummer. He's constantly drunk, has bugs running around his home and clothes, seems totally depressed, lives with abusive people who use him for money but that he also treats like shit, he also wastes a bunch of his fans' donations on alcohol and sells a brand new suit in exchange for clothes taken off a dead homeless man (no really, that's in the book).
(3) IN SPITE OF THE ABOVE, this is a good read. Sure, it's slow, and that's not everyone's thing, but the book has a lot going for it. The author goes to great pains to describe Paris argot, the working class neighborhoods, the hospitals back in the day, the wide range of people who admired Verlaine's poetry, the ins-and-out of publishing and how Verlaine received his pay (and his reviews). And there's a really weird glimpse at how boho-chic artists made some questionable lifestyle decisions (for instance: having a pet anaconda that eventually eats your girlfriend whole because she ran out of opium to distract it) (I couldn't make this up if I tried).
(4) The book is unexpectedly touching. It says a lot about idolization, depression, abuse, friendship, passive-aggressiveness, class, popular opinion... and all sprinkled with some beautiful Verlaine poetry on top.
So if this review hasn't scared you off for good, I recommend the book to anyone who likes 19th century poets, accurate period fiction that gives you a sense of everyday life, character-driven drama, and (of course) Verlaine's poetry. Or, you know, you could just go read the poetry. Maybe do that. I'm going to do that.