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5.0

I decided I was going to read this for two reasons: Sylvia Plath intrigued me; and I need to write better journal entries.

It is sometimes hard to wrap your head around the fact that she was so young when she wrote those journals, and constantly I had to keep reminding myself. She seemed extremely mature for her age. I found myself only reading 20, 30 pages at a time, because her words were so full of introspection, I had to continually go back and reread passages and reflect, soul-search about my own life. It was exhausting (and worthwhile).

The first half of this book is absolutely remarkable. Especially for being just a journal. After she married, however, I think her tone changed. Her journaling was permanently altered. She made herself so little when compared to the “great Ted Hughes”. She refrained from “nagging” him, but he could nag her, because of his “superior seat”. Out of the pair he was always the better, bigger and smarter in her eyes. Her feminist words of before were somehow not put into action, and she became rather submissive and accepting too much of his behavior and betrayals. I understand her position and era of misogyny, but after being so entirely compelled by this woman’s words, I can’t lie here and say her submission didn’t bother me.

The introspection halted and her diaries started resembling a drone list of clipped everyday happenings and to-do lists. The student Sylvia was interesting, incredibly eloquent and contemplative; alive and iridescent, even at her worst depressions. The working, married Sylvia was washed out and colorless. But that’s when she wrote her most important masterpieces. So I suppose she just transplanted her magic from journaling to higher purposes.

This book was a long, tough read. Took me forever to finish. But it was more than worth it. Sylvia Plath was something else. Her words transcend journaling.