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fantomerrant 's review for:
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
by Sylvia Plath
"She (Woolf) works off her depression over rejections [...] (I can hardly believe that the big ones get rejected, too!) by cleaning out the kitchen. Bless her. I feel my life linked to her, somehow. I love her. [...] But her suicide, I felt I was reduplicating in that black summer of 1953. Only I couldn't drown. I suppose I'll always be over-vulnerable, slightly paranoid. But I'm also so damn healthy and resilient."
I felt this because I relate to Plath just the way she relates to Woolf. Sylvia inspires me so much, in her I find insight and strength. I couldn't have made the progress I made without her journals, I wouldn't have started writing the way I have without her, I wouldn't have grown the way I did. It took me several stages of my life to get through her journals, so I could finish it in a better place, yet relate to her in my darkest moments. I owe her so much, and I'm utterly sad about what happened to her in the end, I'm angry at Ted Hughes because she deserved better, and I'm ultimately grateful for Sylvia and the way her writing still reaches the world.
I felt this because I relate to Plath just the way she relates to Woolf. Sylvia inspires me so much, in her I find insight and strength. I couldn't have made the progress I made without her journals, I wouldn't have started writing the way I have without her, I wouldn't have grown the way I did. It took me several stages of my life to get through her journals, so I could finish it in a better place, yet relate to her in my darkest moments. I owe her so much, and I'm utterly sad about what happened to her in the end, I'm angry at Ted Hughes because she deserved better, and I'm ultimately grateful for Sylvia and the way her writing still reaches the world.