Take a photo of a barcode or cover
Graphic: Homophobia, Racial slurs, Racism, Self harm, Sexual violence, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Suicide attempt, Lesbophobia
Graphic: Mental illness, Rape, Self harm, Sexism, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Vomit, Suicide attempt
Moderate: Mental illness, Self harm, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Vomit, Medical trauma, Suicide attempt
also the ultimate sad girl book lol
Sylvia's language is such a treat, so lyrical, rolls of the tongue so breathtakingly.
Graphic: Chronic illness, Death, Mental illness, Racial slurs, Racism, Self harm, Sexism, Sexual content, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Medical trauma, Suicide attempt, Toxic friendship
Graphic: Self harm, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Vomit, Suicide attempt
Moderate: Sexual assault, Sexual content
Moderate: Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Vomit, Suicide attempt
Graphic: Mental illness, Self harm, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Suicide attempt
Moderate: Sexual content
Minor: Homophobia, Racism
Graphic: Mental illness, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Blood, Vomit, Medical content, Medical trauma, Suicide attempt
Moderate: Eating disorder, Self harm, Sexual assault, Sexual content, Alcohol
Minor: Body shaming, Drug use, Homophobia, Infidelity, Racial slurs, Grief, Death of parent, Pregnancy, Lesbophobia, Classism
I find Girl, interrupted and The Bell Jar similar to each other in terms of the plot.
Graphic: Bullying, Death, Misogyny, Sexism, Sexual assault, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, Classism
I’m a good handful of years older than Plath’s autobiographical protagonist, but wow I couldn’t have chosen a better time to read this book. Talk about maximum effect.
Forced levity aside (sorry guys, it’s the Tumblr-raised 90’s teen in me), The Bell Jar is a poignant account of what happens once the fever of constant perseverance towards exceptionalism finally breaks: a bitter sort of hollowness; which, for Esther Greenwood, was carved deeper by the suffocating trappings of 1950s American society and a clinical propensity to mental illness. Fortunately, under Plath’s steady and masterful prose, the grim, painful truth of it all is never rendered trite or sensationalized.
Subtracting one star because I refuse to condone the racism. “But the novel is a product of it’s time” yadda yadda yes yes I know. That doesn’t mean I was comfortable with it or that I didn’t find it utterly distasteful.
Moderate: Racism
Minor: Suicide