Praised for his late approach to poetry and prose, which transgresses the genres and introduces an aestheticized, original and progressively dark perspective to Romanian literature, he was also criticized for his early commitment to Socialist Realism and communism.

In the mid-1950s, he grew disillusioned with communist guidelines—this attitude was notably manifested in his activity as editor of the Cluj-based magazine Steaua (where he reacted against the prevailing censorship), his 1972 public reaction against the norms imposed by the Nicolae Ceaușescu regime, and his samizdat novel Biserica neagră ("The Black Church").

[7] Literary critic and academic Diana Câmpan also that the split with Surrealism and the avant-garde was a sign of his belief that negation could only result in value if substantiated, as well as his theory that aesthetic revolt, after manifesting itself as a disease, was degenerating into kitsch.

[14] Fellow poet and essayist Matei Călinescu, who was acquainted with Baconsky and later joined the Steaua group, believes his older colleague had been "rewarded" the position by the ruling Romanian Communist Party.

[15] In parallel, he established contacts with young authors in Bucharest, who became Steaua's circle in the capital: Călinescu, Cezar Baltag, Gabriel Dimisianu, Grigore Hagiu, Mircea Ivănescu, Modest Morariu, Nichita Stănescu and Petre Stoica.

Back in Bucharest during March, he was present at a USR meeting indirectly provoked by the death of Soviet leader Joseph Stalin, during which they were confronted with the new cultural guidelines stated by Georgy Malenkov.

According to historian Vladimir Tismăneanu, Baconsky was one of the writers informed of the decision taken by communist leader Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej not to endorse liberalization and destalinization, particularly after the events in Hungary threatened to disrupt communism throughout the Eastern Bloc, and at a time when the regime condemned advocates of change (Miron Constantinescu, Mihail Davidoglu, Alexandru Jar and Ion Vitner).

[26] The same month, in this official capacity, he was allowed to travel outside the Iron Curtain and into Western Europe: he was in Austria, invited by the Österreichische Gesellschaft für Literatur, and also visited France and Italy.

[32] Together with other poets, he traveled again to Budapest, as part of a cultural exchange between Hungary and Romania, and, in 1974, was again on leave in Italy (invited by academics in the fields of philology and Romanic languages), Austria, and ultimately West Berlin (where the academy organized a gala in his honor).

[38] Analyzing Baconsky's early political views, his biographer Crina Bud concludes that the poet was attracted into cooperation in order to make a living,[39] and that, from the very start, he was playing a number of different and conflicting "roles".

[40] Simion, who recorded his impression of Baconsky, spoke of his "romantic beauty", "sartorial elegance", and a form of "melancholy" which, he argued, recalled that displayed by 19th century author Gérard de Nerval.

This occurred frequently after 1953, when Soviet politico Georgy Malenkov disavowed proletkult, criticizing its exponents for having authored a bland and distant form of literature (an accusation which Baconsky was regularly faced with from that moment on).

"[42] Also in 1953, Paul Georgescu, literary columnist at Scînteia, the main Communist Party organ, reacted against the Steaua leadership, and argued that Baconsky personally had developed "a high-flown style, designed to hide his unfamiliarity with life and lack of ideas.

[45] Writing for Viaţa Românească, critic Eugen Campus endorsed earlier pronouncements and added that, although Baconsky was a "talented poet", he found his contributions showed "a tendency to repeat oneself—for all the originality it covets".

Lumea-n drum spre muncă Te-a citit ivit pe undeva, Nimeni nu te cheltuie, te-aruncă, Putrezit de viu în lumea ta.

[11][53] Based on this, Cernat defines the writer as an "informal anti-communist",[11] while Călinescu, who recalls participating in such conversations, notes: "Baconsky [displayed] an emphatic, lucid, irreconcilable anti-communism.

"[9] Cernat portrays him as a "European humanist with a vast and refined culture",[11] while Creţu proposes that Baconsky and his generation colleague Ştefan Augustin Doinaş may be Romania's "best translators of poetry".

[57] Baconsky resisted such criticism, and, in one of his articles, openly stated that poets needed to return to a lyrical approach: "Ignoring the rich array of intimate feelings means mutilating the protagonist's personality, depicting him unilaterally, belittling the actual dimensions of his soul.

"[60] Baconsky's poems of the period speak of himself being "torn" by the contradictions of destiny, submitted to the command of a nature whose geography, Braga notes, is "dead", seeking to undermine his own humanity so as to become the ideal creator.

[66] In a 1985 essay, poet and critic Dinu Flămând discusses Cadavre în vid as "a book of suffering, unique in our literature, a tragic perception of the disinherited, a nightmare of teratologic dreams in the new 'electronic season' ".

Singur rămas visezi printre făclii cai negri, câmpuri moarte, umbre vii, şi nu mai eşti în stare să le numeri.

Mircea Braga writes that this and other late volumes, showing "a world born out of nightmares", are the product of several influences: alongside George Bacovia's melancholic poems, they host echoes from both Expressionism and Postmodern literature.

[70] Diana Câmpan noted the poems' dystopian imagery: "The Abendland is [...] an eerie Leviathan-like corpus, with attributes defining for humanity's decrepitude, a surrogate, anti-utopian citadel, handled in accordance with the laws of decline which grind the elites as well as the masses, the things as well their reflection".

[37] Drace-Francis also notes that the climate of relative liberalization and détente of the 1960s not only made such journeys possible, but actually allowed writers the freedom to go beyond stereotyped depictions of capitalism[30] (while it remained uncertain whether Communist Romania's dialog with the West would "dominate the construction of epistemic value").

[9] Cernat, who extends his critique of Baconsky's anti-capitalist attitude to Remember, also argues that the author's "absolute freedom" of travel under a repressive regime indicates that his work was not perceived as a threat by the communist system.

[9] Anatol E. Baconsky was a noted presence in the literary community of his day, and is believed to have influenced poet, novelist and translator Petre Stoica (who is described by Ungureanu as the writer's "friend and emulator").

Imn către necunoscutul din mine ("Hymn to the Unknown within Me"), makes use of Baconsky's lyrical style and displays of culture, showing the poet meditating about the ancient Scythian and Thracian peoples.

[11] In the months following Baconsky's death, his new monograph on Sandro Botticelli, centered on the artist's illustrations for Dante Aligheri's Divine Comedy, was published in Romanian (re-issued in English during 1982).

"[39] Like Crina Bud, he believes Baconsky to have been a "vanquisher from a moral point of view", adding that he earned "absolution" from the victims of communism: "the writer passed the fire ordeal: he confessed.

They owned representative works of Romanian art, particularly modern, including paintings by Dimitrie Ghiață, Ștefan Dimitrescu, Iosif Iser and Lucian Grigorescu, as well as drawings by Constantin Jiquidi, Theodor Pallady and Nicolae Tonitza.