A review by askoda
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath

5.0

Let’s be real. Plath does not need another raving review. The fact that she has become such a praised author turned me away from her books. I was always curious but refused to bite for the longest time. There’s a strange curiosity I have for her work and sometimes that terrifies me.

I’m happy that I waited to read The Bell Jar. I think that if I read this when I was younger I wouldn’t have fully understood how eloquently she describes depression. She also reveals the darkness of psych wards and the abuse and mistreatment of those thrust into the facilities. Plath provides the perfect descriptions of what it is like to live with a debilitating invisible illness.

By forcing her readers into the depths of her own psyche, there is a sense of understanding that oozes into our worlds. And for those who feel as if they are caught inside of a bell jar, there is a moment of belonging. Someone else understands the feeling of being present in a moment but feeling trapped and disconnected. I often felt as if I was sitting with her in her own captivity.

Overall, I was completely vexed by this novel. It was beautiful and heart breaking. It was so precise and carefully worded just like someone who was dealing with internal battles would write. Each word carried a fog that filled her jar. Maybe we all live in our own jars. And maybe her story can help us identify them and move forward from them. Or else we too, will be just as trapped as she was.

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