Ariel
Reviews
well that went over my head completely...
3.75
the farther i got the more confused i got
âPeople or stars Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.â
damn
** spoiler alert ** "I wonder how hungry they are. I wonder if they would forget me If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree... the box is only temporary"
Read this now
Is it the sea you hear in me, itâs dissatisfactions?
âThe moon is no door. It is a face in its own right, White as a knuckle and terribly upset. It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here.â
4 ½ stars pretty damn solid poetry collection !! i envy sylvia plath's mind a lot, she had such a way with words... tbh i found her associations very unique and i think her style is very distinct. a lot of the poems here were thought-provoking, yes, but they also felt straight up provocative sometimes. i'm not sure i got even just 50% of what she was trying to communicate in these, but that's probably because i was constantly in awe of how melodic and satisfying her lines sounded, so i didn't particularly focus on the messages. anyway, i had a great time reading this ! my favs: the applicant, lady lazarus, tulips, cut, the moon and the yew tree, the rival, daddy(this one killed me, one of, if not the best poem about grief i've read so far) and the hanging man.
most of these poems just went over my head. i wish i would've studied them and gotten the proper context to properly enjoy them.
Sylvia Plath's use of multiple literary devices like alliteration, assonance, parallelism etc. is really just another chef's kiss moment for me! I really liked Lady Lazarus and The Night Dances!
Favorites:
-"The Applicant"
-"Lady Lazarus"
-"Tulips"
-"Poppies in October"
-"The Courage of Shutting-Up"
-"Berck-Plage"
-"Gulliver"
-"Getting There"
-"A Birthday Present"
-"Letter in November"
-"The Rival"
Wasnât expecting so many poems about bees.
dont normally enjoy poetry but this was great
Sylvia Plath owns my fucking ass
In all honesty I am not the greatest at reading/interpreting poetry but I enjoyed this nonetheless
This is my first foray into Plath and I'm pretty much a noob with poetry in general. I'll be honest: I struggle. I wonder if I need to be in the right frame of mind, or whether should the poems drag me from the real world into a better place? I'm not sure. It's not what I was expecting, maybe that's it. Now that I know that, I should have another go; find some lines that I get and hold onto them. There are other worlds than these.
i loved it at the beginning and then i became disillusioned by her weird habit of using poc as imagery for suffering
Mostly lovely poems, but I docked a star for a couple racial insensitivities that didn't sit well with me. Googled about this issue and apparently Plath's journals contain some pretty prejudiced remarks. Anyway, no one is perfect and these were written in the early 60s, but Plath is such a feminist icon that it is worth mentioning.
4.75 stars This is the first poetry collection I've read in a long time. I read Plath's The Bell Jar as well as snippets of her poems, and I really enjoyed reading this. The way she constructs her poems, how she seems to view the world - all of that was unique, sometimes brutally honest, and riveting.
Much prefer the clarity that marks Plath's Bell Jar than the purposeful obfuscation that characterizes her poetry.
Death is stalking. Calling sweetly. The children have hooks. Husband is just like daddy. Hurt, death and cruelty are made stunningly beautiful.
A poignant and powerful piece of poetry! Sylvia plays with words like they're a fun, bouncy bit of jelly left in the bowl, and the way she evokes the emotional suffering and torment she endured throughout her years, as well as the physical abuse (from her husband) is so imaginative, almost the point it's impossible to understand. Yet it is coherent, and it is impeccably melodical - it appears every word has its purpose and it's undoubtedly made to be read aloud (that's where I found it had the most profound effect, even if you can't quite distinguish the words' meaning initially). Speaking of which, on YouTube there are some little sprinklings of audio from the awe-inspiring lady herself, reading poems from the volume, and one of my favourites has got to be 'Lady Lazarus'. So even if you don't have a copy, you can always untangle your ears and appreciate the lyrical poetry in performance, as it was intended to be: https://youtu.be/LkK2fwZfVjA
Highlights
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it
Elm
If the moon smiled, she would resemble you.
You leave the same impression
Of something beautiful, but annihilating.
-"The Rival"
I do not want much of a present, anyway, this year.
After all, I am alive only by accident.
"A Birthday Present"
How far is it?
It is so small
The place I am getting to, why are there these obstaclesâ
-"Getting There"
Over your body the clouds go
High, high and icily
And a little flat, as if they
Floated on a glass that was invisible.
Unlike swans,
Having no reflections;
Unlike you, With no strings attached.
All cool, all blue. Unlike youâ
You, there on your back,
Eyes to the sky.
-"Gulliver"
The courage of the shut mouth, in spite of artillery!
-"The Courage of Shutting-Up"
Salutary and pure as boiled water,
Loveless as the multiplication table.
-"Magi"
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
-"Elm"
I am myself. That is not enough.
The fever trickles and stiffens in my hair.
My ribs show. What have I eaten?
Lies and smiles.
-"The Jailor"
My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
-"The Jailor"
I didnât want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
-"Tulips"
The nurses pass and pass, they are no trouble,
They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps,
Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another,
So it is impossible to tell how many there are.
My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water
Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.
They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.
-"Tulips"
Iâm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distils a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the windâs hand.
-"Morning Song"
Love is a shadow.
How you lie and cry after it.
Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.
All night I shall gallop thus, impetuously,
Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf,
Echoing, echoing.
âElmâ
Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
âLady Lazarusâ