The Bell Jar 

The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath


Genre: Fiction

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 meant losing all the rest, and as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black…

This was my first venture into Plath. Who both lived and died tragically. I have come to understand why young girls start wearing black, extra thick eyeliner, and flock to graveyards while quoting Plath poems. 

This is a beautifully tragic book. Esther Greenwood has it all. The scholarship. The college. The internship in illustrious New York. The grades. And yet, it isn’t enough. She begins to spiral down into the deepest, darkest hole and loses herself in her madness. It is a perfect replica of depression, anxiety, and hitting rock bottom. 

This one did leave off in a happy moment, with Esther set to leave the asylum. So we’ll leave it at that. It is rumored to be autobiographical as Sylvia refused to have it published in the US for fear of her family. A year after she had it published in England, she commited suicide by sticking her head in an oven. Ending her promising life. 

I do recommend this book but know that it is a hard book filled with hard truths.

I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have anything wrong with my body than something wrong with my head, but the idea seemed so involved and werisome that I didn’t say anything. 


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