BOOK OF THE DAY:
To say that The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath should be exclusively recommended to Sylvia Plath enthusiasts is a monumental crime. Plath kept journals from the age of 11-30, until her death. Her journals provide a raw insight into her troubled mind and soul.
Much has been speculated about her life and marriage between the poet, Ted Hughes. There are few writers in the world like Sylvia Plath where every word has a purpose. Her language hits with violence, which is why it is easy to relate to her pain and find her desperation beautiful.
There is no doubt here that Hughes has been appointed the villain of Plath’s story, during her life and after it. It was only possible to publish a darker version of her journals after his death.
What makes Sylvia Plath a seductive writer is her self-obsession. She admires her mind. She pulverizes it, rebuilds it and analyzes it repeatedly to the edge of frenzy. This proves her to be highly observant, intelligent and vivacious. She is one of the loudest authors to have ever lived. Her mind and prose shape an alarming imagery, ironically easy to catch and digest, no matter how uncomfortable her feelings and thoughts were. She is the author of her mind in the most alluring and venomous way.
The most difficult opinion to overlook is the common knowledge, that to make great art, one’s heart and mind are often in fire. There is no escape but the art itself. Perhaps if Plath had fewer demons or a tranquil mind, her words would have been less gritty and authentic. Pain is universal, it speaks all languages, even the most foreign language, the one of the body and mind. She is able to decipher her puzzle, which is something to envy. How do I write like this? The truth is, we don’t know, not even Sylvia Plath knew she was the master of self-discovery. Break your heart a couple of times for truth, that’s our advice.
How are you?
don’t tell me that you’re doing good
or that you are fine,
you and I both know that you are so far from both of those things,
when was the last time you thought about death?
When was the last time you cried and what finally made the tears fall after all that time?
what is your story of loss?
What words break you?
What words put you back together?
When was the first time you understood the depth of the word “goodbye?”
When was the first time the only thing you could do was lay on the floor and cry because nothing else in the world made sense but brokenness?
When was the last time you really and truly laughed?
Can you remember that far back?
What was on your mind when you got those scars on your leg?
What lies have you believed lately?
When was the first time you understood what “I love you” meant?
Who made you so broken?
Have you even tried to put yourself back together?
do you love yourself?
how much of your skin can you find constellations in?
have you ever tried to understand your eyes?
have you pressed your fingertips to your own lips hoping nothing else mattered in the world if your lips were your own?
have you ever made yourself believe the lie that you aren’t worth it?
how is the weather in your heart?
is it a hurricane or a tsunami?
is there fog surrounding your soul?
have you ever loved another more than you loved to breathe?
when was the last time you really and truly believed that your life was worth living?