I have to give some foreground before i can really get into my point as to why i hate Sylvia Plath despite my feelings of respect towards her.
I run a grieving site for the families of Homicide Victims. Typically the people who look at my site are women, between the ages of 18 and 50, and are in a state of very (and i cannot over emphasize that word) heavy grief. While i appreciate the things that Sylvia Plath enabled them to figure out (and I will expand on this in a moment), there is something very harmful in her writing to the human.
For the purposes of this assignment, let’s look at a footnote in our textbook that has Plath commenting on the piece:
(Picture to be updated later)
Look at the part where Plath comments on the work. She writes:
“The speaker is a woman who has the great and terrible gift of being reborn. The only trouble is, she has to die first. She is the phoenix, the libertarian spirit, what you will. She is also just a good, plain, very resourceful woman.” – Plath on the speaker
The good thing to take from Sylvia Plath, as it pertains to the grieving, is the ability to write about what you are experiencing as a way of coping with whatever is going on with you. The bad thing, the thing that i find to be absolutely self-destructive and defeatist, is how she romanticizes death. Think about this: Your loved one just died, you are in a state of utter disrepair; if you read something about having the potential to relieve the amazing qualities of your life with them just by killing yourself – aren’t you more prone to off yourself? Going back to her words, and using them as they pertain to this situation, she is not going to be the phoenix. Her spirit may subside in someone else but her body, the fleshly remains that melded with her spirit, have no shot of being the right way. The logic. In this instance is false.
Sylvia, Sylvia, you bitch. I’m Done.
(More bitching about this later) this is more than enough for now.