Why should you read Sylvia Plath Iseult Gillespie
“From the tip of every branch,
like a fat purple fig,
a wonderful future beckoned and winked…
but choosing one meant
losing all the rest,
and, as I sat there, unable to decide,
the figs began to wrinkle and go black,
and, one by one, they plopped
to the ground at my feet.”
In this passage from Sylvia Plath’s
“The Bell Jar,”
a young woman imagines
an uncertain future–
and speaks to the universal fear
of becoming paralyzed
by the prospect of making
the wrong choice.
Although she considered other careers,
Plath chose the artist’s way.
Poetry was her calling.
Under her shrewd eye and pen,
everyday objects became haunting images:
a “new statue in a drafty museum,”
a shadow in a mirror, a slab of soap.
Fiercely intelligent,
penetrating and witty,
Plath was also diagnosed
with clinical depression.
She used poetry to explore her own states
of mind
in the most intimate terms,
and her breathtaking perspectives
on emotion,
nature and art continue
to captivate and resonate.
In her first collection of poems,
“The Colossus,”
she wrote of a feeling of nothingness:
“white: it is a complexion of the mind.”
At the same time,
she found solace in nature,
from “a blue mist” “dragging the lake,”
to white flowers that “tower and topple,”
to blue mussels “clumped like bulbs.”
After “The Colossus” she
published “The Bell Jar,”
her only novel,
which fictionalizes the time she spent
working for Mademoiselle magazine
in New York during college.
The novel follows its heroine, Esther,
as she slides into a severe
depressive episode,
but also includes wickedly funny and
shrewd depictions
of snobby fashion parties
and dates with dull men.
Shortly after the publication
of “The Bell Jar,”
Plath died by suicide at age 30.
Two years later, the collection of poems
she wrote in a burst of creative energy
during the months before her death
was published under the title “Ariel.”
Widely considered her masterpiece,
Ariel exemplifies the honesty
and imagination
Plath harnessed to capture her pain.
In one of “Ariel’s” most forceful poems,
“Lady Lazarus,” she explores her attempts
to take her own life through Lazarus,
the biblical figure who rose
from the dead.
She writes, “and I a smiling woman/
I am only thirty/
And like the cat I have
nine times to die.”
But the poem is also a testament
to survival:
“I rise with my red hair/
And I eat men like air.”
This unflinching language has made Plath
an important touchstone
for countless other readers and writers
who sought to break the silence
surrounding issues of trauma,
frustration, and sexuality.
“Ariel” is also filled with moving
meditations on heartbreak and creativity.
The title poem begins “Stasis in darkness/
Then the substanceless blue/
Pour of tor and distances.”
This sets the scene for a naked ride
on horseback in the early morning—
one of Plath’s most memorable expressions
of the elation of creative freedom.
But it is also full of foreboding
imagery,
such as “a child’s cry” that “melts
in the wall”
and a “red/eye, the cauldron
of morning.”
This darkness is echoed throughout
the collection,
which includes controversial references
to the holocaust and the Kamikazes.
Even the relics of seemingly happier times
are described as crucifying the author:
“My husband and child smiling out
of the family photo;
Their smiles catch onto my skin,
little smiling hooks.”
Her domestic dissatisfaction and her
husband’s mistreatment of her
are constant themes in her later poetry.
After her death, he inherited her estate,
and has been accused of excluding
some of her work from publication.
Despite these possible omissions
and her untimely death,
what survives is one of the most
extraordinary bodies of work
by a twentieth century poet.
While her work can be shocking in
its rage and trauma,
Plath casts her readers as witnesses–
not only to the truth of her
psychological life,
but to her astounding ability to express
what often remains inexpressible.