Skip to main content

Sylvia Plath

COURTESY MORTIMER RARE BOOK ROOM
Sylvia Plath works on her typewriter perched on a stone wall in Yorkshire, England in 1956.


Someone has been calling to me as of late, and that person appears to be Sylvia Plath. Her voice is much more assertive than I imagine she would have used during her short life and it insists I read, love and share. (So you know, she is not concerned with the order in which I pursue these).


Currently, The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath and The Bell Jar rest by my bed waiting for me to take them in each night. I find the biography difficult, revealing and troubling. The Bell Jar reads like silk through my hands. Loving it, I am.



‘I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart: I am, I am, I am.’ ~Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Chapter 20

These two books do compliment one another. Although unnerving, the biography gives the reader a good insight to the novel. Ironically, The Bell Jar is a mirror of a time in Sylvia’s young personal life. Plath uses the mirror metaphorically throughout the novel and the imagery within is fantastic. Originally published under the pseudonym Victoria Lucas in 1963, this semi-autobiographical novel parallels Plath’s experience living in New York for a summer working as a junior editor for Mademoiselle. Further analogies include many references to people in Plath’s own life, electric shock therapy and the fact that the protagonist, Ester Greenwood, attempts suicide.

The writing in this novel is simple, edgy and vivid. Although written in the 50’s, I recognize many of the timeless issues included around social troubles, sexual relations and family relationships. I can’t help but get absorbed as I follow the journey of this troubled young woman slipping into insanity.





‘If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.’ ~Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Chapter 8

It is my hope that The Bell Jar should at some point make its way into bed with you.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One Day I Saw Ty Conn

(This is being recalled from a very young mind...) When my father would begin telling a story from his childhood, he would begin with “When I was a little girl…” which would cause an uproar of high pitched objections from my sisters and myself. He would simply smile and continue on, as he now had our complete attention. I started this post at the beginning of November of this year when thoughts of my father return annually on the anniversary of his birthday. This story, however, is not about my father… When I was a little girl, I lived in a small house on Pine Street with my father, mother and three sisters. Ours was a busy, full house. Lisa was the oldest, very beautiful and very bossy. Pam was next, also very beautiful and we envied her fashion sense. I was the third in the line of my sisters, a middle child that cried a lot, made funny faces and was very comfortable at the centre of attention. My little sister, Joanne, enjoyed the status of being the baby in the family. She wa...
16 comments
Read more

Keith Cornell - Artist

Madawaska Church Claire Connolly, Assistant Manager Arts on King and Queen, describes Keith's work as 'Ontario, rugged landscape at it’s best'. Keith Cornell was raised in the small town of Uxbridge, Ontario. His father died during the war when Keith was very young, leaving his mother to raise him alongside his two brothers. Growing up in this quaint little town tucked beside farmland and beautiful forests, Keith would begin his life work painting everything around him. He recounts time and again a solid memory he has a very young boy. The Canadian artist David Milne had set up his easel to paint a scene in Keith’s neighbourhood, and the boy watched with fascination as the artist worked plein air. The affect of this experience is timeless. Keith did not pick up the brush and start painting right away, but that time was coming. Late Afternoon Go Home Bay During his high school years, Keith met his future wife, Karen.   For his sixteenth birthda...
2 comments
Read more

San Murata and the The Truth about Art

Skating on St Lawrence san-murata.com Anyone who meets San Murata knows that he is someone whom you won’t soon forget. Lively, charismatic and honest; he is certainly a true reflection of his art. He currently lives in the small historic town of Grafton where he loves to paint the beautiful Northumberland countryside. He also enjoys spending time in Quebec during the colder months to paint. The painting on the front cover is a scene from winter, one of the things San says he likes most about Canada, particularly in Quebec. San grew up in Japan, with admittedly a stricter social system, which encourages all children to work hard in school and go to university. San’s father was a banker and wanted his children to be professionals, so San studied at the University of Musashi in Tokyo, and although he says he wasn’t the best student, he graduated with a degree in Economics. He, too, worked at a banking job but it was always his dream to one day be an artist. In the late 60’s...
Post a Comment
Read more