sylvpla-blog

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First tattoo. -R. Cambria

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Sylvia Plath, 1953.

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The Barbizon Hotel for Women (the model for the Amazon), now known as Barbizon 63, located at 140 East 63rd Street, on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, New York City; where Sylvia Plath stayed during her month as guest editor at Mademoiselle 1953

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I couldn’t stand the idea of a woman having to have a single pure life and a man being able to have a double life, one pure and one not.

Esther Greenwood, The Bell Jar (via lovemeliterature)

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literature meme | prose 1/10 - The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, 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.” 

{1963} The Bell Jar is a semi-autobiographic novel by Sylvia Plath, telling the story of Esther Greenwood, a girl looking for purity in a broken world.

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These girls looked awfully bored to me. I saw them on the sunroof, yawning and painting their nails and trying to keep up their Bermuda tans, and they seemed bored as hell. I talked with one of them, and she was bored with yachts and bored with flying around in airplanes and bored with skiing in Switzerland at Christmas and bored with the men in Brazil. Girls like that make me sick. I’m so jealous I can’t speak. Nineteen years, and I hadn’t been out of New England except for this trip to New York. It was my first big chance, but here I was, sitting back and letting it run through my fingers like so much water.

Esther Greenwood, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (via quotationsss)

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I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I’d never seen before in my life.

Esther Greenwood, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (via quotationsss)

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FEMALE CHARACTERS CHALLENGE (13/30)

Favourite Female Character in a Book - Esther Greenwood, The Bell Jar

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.

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Sylvia Plath - Pen (Old piece that is unfinished, possibly will never finish)

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I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via madamecuriewasmymother)

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“The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn’t thought about it.”

-Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via distortedgarden)

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‘Lady, what am I doing/With a lung full of dust and a tongue of wood,/Knee-deep in the cold and swamped by flowers?’ Once you’ve paid off your £16 fine, the library ain’t so bad.

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Submitted by Simon T.:

" ‘Ariel’ - A facsimile of the last lines written in Ms Plath’s own hand”

I Am the arrow, the dew that flies Suicidal, at one with the drive Into the red Eye, the cauldron of morning.

From the facsimile draft number 3 of the poem ‘Ariel’.

Can be found in Ariel.The Restored Edition. A Facsimile of Plath’s Manuscript, Reinstating Her Original Selection and Arrangement

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Plath and Cohen share a wall.