In this task, you are given books product reviews in English language. The goal is to classify the review as "POS" if the overall sentiment of the review is positive or as "NEG" if the overall sentiment of the review is negative.
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Question: Don't waste your money . This book, the author and his company is a joke. Don't waste your money

Answer: NEG

Question: MISREPRESENTATION: This is 1892 Deathbed Edition! . Although the poems are beautiful... and I certainly don't mean to bash Whitman with this 2-star rating... it's the wrong book. NOT AS ADVERTISED. This was supposed to be the original 1855 edition. That's what I expected, and therefore (in my mind) what I was paying for. The original 1855 edition, according to modern literary analysis, was the "strongest/purest" version. It was the true starting point of Whitman's own (and consequently America's) poetic awakening. Consisting of just 12 "perfect" poems, it was THAT edition which Emerson praised so highly. Whitman never put out another book... just revision after revision, addition after addition, and edition after edition of Leaves Of Grass... until you wind up with "the deathbed edition" which is a severely bloated and different work from the original. I was very much looking forward to a slender volume of the original edition. Which is what the item description says this is. It's not. Be forewarned... it's the Deathbed Edition of 1892... nearly 500 pages. And frankly, there are MUCH better versions of the deathbed edition. Sturdier versions with nicer pages exist (this is a pretty weak paperback, printed on pulp pages), with better footnotes and more authoritive introductions. Shop around. To sum up... the 2 star rating is because lying about which edition this is, is a terrible way to sell the book. Whitman was fantastic and the poetry contained in the book itself is first rate. It just would have been nice to get what I paid for. The "true" editon, written by a YOUNG Whitman at the height of his powers..

Answer: NEG

Question: Are You Easily Amused? . If you're easily amused by anything that hyperactively draws attention to its "cool" sensibility, this book is for you. Stacey Richter obviously went to one too many writer's workshops where they pat each other on the back for their inside-ness and forget what real literature can be. None of her characters reveal any depth or texture. What little thematic substance the stories have is as fuzzy as a fly-away wisp of pink cotton candy. Instead, what you get is exaggerated, absurd sequences rooted in cultural fetishes and fantasies of abnormality or violence. Richter lacks the discipline or patience to build a real-life scenario; she wants to take shortcuts by way of cultural references, precious oddity, and patronizing first-person narration. Incidents tumble forward like an upturned toychest of kitschy knick-knacks collected and lovingly polished, then laid out on a tacky folding table for you to fawn over and call art. The word that best describes the whole thing is "shallow." It's as if Richter were writing moment-to-moment, giggling over her cleverness, probably sipping an Orbitz because it's "so stupid, it's sublime." After smart people start seeing through this one-trick literary con job (I'm looking down at my watch), perhaps Richter can get lucky and land a gig writing pop-up windows for Blind Date

Answer:
NEG