I read both Paavo Castrén's Työt ja päivät and A. E. Stallings' Works and Days, and I should say Stallings' edition was far superior: Castrén's work was clean and legible, whereas Stallings provided a fantastically exhaustive introduction and showcased a superb use of diction, bringing especially the more epic moments to life. It seems to me that I am somewhat biased when it comes to Finnish in epic-styled poetry: it can be done really well (like Oksala has done with Virgil), but even slight changes of tone can break the spell. (Nimimerkillä "Tyhmä Perses"...)
I am slightly embarrassed to give Hesiod only three stars and justify it all with my enjoyment of the work. He is the fountainhead of Western literature, for goodness' sake! He gave us the myths of Prometheus and Pandora, and the 5 Ages of Man, and started things off with a wonderfully Joycean flair, mixing the epic with the low, genuflecting before the gods and hitting the younger brother with a well-aimed stick; showcasing his learning and boasting about his achievements; and lamenting the fate of man and the corruption of the race. He even was a forerunner to economics, pointing out the ups and downs of investment, opportunism, division of labour and steady accrual.
And besides that, neither Castrén nor Stallings made a bad job at all: the latter especially was a joy to read with her relaxed commentary and multifarious verbiage (the rhyming couplets I could've foregone myself, though—they made the rhythm rather awkward).
Well, I suppose it all comes down to expectations once again: I was rather naively prepared for something more stupendous. "Give me the ichor of Zeus or at least the very visage of Kronos!" I could hear myself whimper, pounding at my chest and coughing profusely as a result. But the sad matter of the fact is that the mythological elements are quickly depleted herein, serving as a nice rhetorical device to keep the foolish Perses on his toes. Very soon after that we get charming auguries and omens, an almanac for farmers and whatnot, delivered with rather silly conviction (clearly there were no such things as breach of promise or the liabilities of advertisement back in the day). That is not the kind of information I was expecting in such abundance, and it's not exactly the kind of information that I can build my mental picture of the Greek of Eld with due to its painstaking detail. (Of course I can go with generalisation like "it was more or less the same as in Virgil's Georgics", but that feels like a major cop-out...)
Yet, fortunately, I can admire this work from afar, and I can partake in the enjoyment of deciphering the poet behind the text. Before I read Stallings, I did not really see any need to question Hesiod's authenticity, but I did find the use of the name "Perses" most... convenient, given that it means "wastrel" or "destroyer". Yet in the English edition, it was pointed out that Perses is actually a Titan and a father to Hecate, a popular deity in Asia Minor, where the father of Hesiod and Perses the wastrel hailed from. That would indeed make Perses a more likely name—and probably adds some erudite irony into the work.
As for the structure, think about it: You want to lecture your nitwit of a sibling. You eschew brotherly violence for reasons only known to you(, your sibling and the possibly venal top brass in your location,) and you clearly want to edify him. What you do is recount the mythological history of treachery and divine displeasure throughout ages and, at the same time, substantiate claims that Need and Toil are both a punishment and a reward, nothing to be grumbled at due to their god-given nature. Then you give the doomed dolt the best advice you can conjure up, teach them the art of phenology, instill the sense of duty in them, give them the tools for optimisation in life and also offer them the option of seafaring to boot. Yes, you probably want to cast a little expletive down his way every now and then, but it's all for the greater good.
For all this, I'm even willing to blink at Hesiod's curmudgeonly misanthropy—he may be a bit of a crank, but he puts a lot of effort into giving good advice to a brother of his, even though he himself acknowledges that blood is not always thicker than water.