A review by bill369
Pod skleněným zvonem by Sylvia Plath, Tomáš Hrách

challenging dark hopeful reflective sad medium-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

I saw a video about Sylvia Plath and so I read her only novel.

My favourite character is Doctor Nolan, she helped Esther and seems like a nice person with good intentions. She was more of a side character, therefore I don't know that much about her, but she is bright, open-minded and professional. 

It was interesting to read about someone with mental health issues from that period, it helped me make a better picture of what it was like back then. I liked the descriptions and Esther's thought process. It just all made sense. It amazed me how well the author managed the transition from an ambitious and quite lively woman to a suicidal, numb, rather careless and tired woman. It all happens slowly and so it all blends in well. Reading this book made me feel more literate.

The part of the book I liked the most was when Esther was in Belsize, however, there are lines throughout the whole book which I would like to share. On page 54 are lines that hit a bit too close to home. There's nothing else needed to be said. 
There I went again, building up a glamorous
picture of a man who would love me passionately the minute he
met me, and all out of a few prosy nothings. A duty tour of the
UN and a post-UN sandwich!

On page 77 Plath compares her life to a green fig tree.   
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig,
a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a
husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a
famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and
another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig
was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was
Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers
with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was
an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these
figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.
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 one meant losing all the rest, and, as I
sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go
black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

On pages 123 and 124 Plath describes how insomnia made Esther tired of living. 
I saw the days of the year stretching ahead like a
series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from
another was sleep, like a black shade. Only for me, the long
perspective of shades that set off one box from the next had
suddenly snapped up, and I could see day after day after day
glaring ahead of me like a white, broad, infinitely desolate
avenue.
It seemed silly to wash one day when I would only
have to wash again the next.
It made me tired just to think of it.
I wanted to do everything once and for all and be
through with it.

On page 141 Plath shows how pressured Esther felt by the world.   
I summoned my little chorus of voices.
Doesn’t your work interest you, Esther?
You know, Esther, you’ve got the perfect setup of
a true neurotic.
You’ll never get anywhere like that, you’ll never
get anywhere like that, you’ll never get anywhere like that.

On page 177 we can see how numb Esther became. 
I knew I should be grateful to Mrs. Guinea, only I
couldn’t feel a thing. If Mrs. Guinea had given me a ticket to
Europe, or a round-the-world cruise, it wouldn’t have made one
scrap of difference to me, because wherever I sat--on the deck
of a ship or at a street cafe in Paris or Bangkok--I would be
sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour
air.


I usually dislike the open ending, but in this book I welcomed it. It felt right. I hope she will only be better from that point on.

The book is well written and all, but it's not a five star for me. I didn't cry and I didn't connect to the characters. That probably isn't the author's fault. The book is just old. I did like it quite a bit though.

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