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The Bell Jar was first published in London in January 1963 was first published in London in January 1963 by Wil by William Heinemann Limited, under the pseudonym Victoria Lucas. Sylvia Plath had adopted the pen name for publication of her first novel because she questioned its literary value and did not believe it was a "serious work"; she was also worried about the pain publication might cause to the many people close to her whose personalities she had distorted and lightly disguised in the book.
The central themes of Sylvia Plath's early life are the basis for The Bell Jar. The Bell Jar. She was born in 1932 in Ma.s.sachusetts and spent her early childhood years in Winthrop, a seaside town close to Boston. Her mother's parents were Austrian; her father, a distinguished professor of biology at Boston University (and an internationally known authority on bees), had emigrated to the States from Poland as an adolescent; she had one brother, two and a half years younger. A radical change occurred in Sylvia's life when she was eight: in November 1940, her father died after a long, difficult illness, and the mother and grandparents moved the family inland to the town of Wellesley, a conservative She was born in 1932 in Ma.s.sachusetts and spent her early childhood years in Winthrop, a seaside town close to Boston. Her mother's parents were Austrian; her father, a distinguished professor of biology at Boston University (and an internationally known authority on bees), had emigrated to the States from Poland as an adolescent; she had one brother, two and a half years younger. A radical change occurred in Sylvia's life when she was eight: in November 1940, her father died after a long, difficult illness, and the mother and grandparents moved the family inland to the town of Wellesley, a conservative [image]
upper-middle-cla.s.s suburb of Boston. While the grandmother a.s.sumed the care of the household, Mrs. Plath taught students in the medical-secretarial training program at Boston University, commuting each day, and the grandfather worked as maitre d'hotel maitre d'hotel at the Brookline Country Club, where he lived during the week. Sylvia and her brother attended the local public schools. "I went to public schools," she wrote later, "genuinely public. Everyone went." At an early age she began to write poems and to draw in pen and ink--and to collect prizes with her first publication of each. By the time she was seventeen, her interest in writing had become disciplined and controlled. Publication, however, did not come easily; she had submitted forty-five pieces to the magazine at the Brookline Country Club, where he lived during the week. Sylvia and her brother attended the local public schools. "I went to public schools," she wrote later, "genuinely public. Everyone went." At an early age she began to write poems and to draw in pen and ink--and to collect prizes with her first publication of each. By the time she was seventeen, her interest in writing had become disciplined and controlled. Publication, however, did not come easily; she had submitted forty-five pieces to the magazine Seventeen Seventeen before her first short story, "And Summer Will Not Come Again," was published in the August 1950 issue. A poem, "Bitter Strawberries," a sardonic comment on war, was accepted and published in the same month by the before her first short story, "And Summer Will Not Come Again," was published in the August 1950 issue. A poem, "Bitter Strawberries," a sardonic comment on war, was accepted and published in the same month by the Christian Science Monitor. Christian Science Monitor. In her high school yearbook, In her high school yearbook, The Wellesleyan, The Wellesleyan, the girl who later described herself as a "rabid teenage pragmatist" was pictured: the girl who later described herself as a "rabid teenage pragmatist" was pictured: Warm smile...energetic worker...b.u.mble Boogie piano special...Clever with chalk and paints...Weekends at Williams....Those fully packed sandwiches... Future writer...Those rejection slips from Seventeen. Seventeen...Oh, for a license.
In September 1950, Sylvia entered Smith College in Northampton, Ma.s.sachusetts, the largest women's college in the world. She went on scholarship--one from the Wellesley Smith Club and one endowed by Olive Higgins Prouty, the novelist and author of Stella Dallas) Stella Dallas) later a friend and patron. These were the years in which Sylvia wrote poetry on a precise schedule, circled words in the red-leather thesaurus which had belonged to her father, maintained a detailed journal, kept a diligent sc.r.a.pbook, and studied with concentration. Highly successful as a student, she was also elected to cla.s.s and college offices; she became a member of the editorial board of later a friend and patron. These were the years in which Sylvia wrote poetry on a precise schedule, circled words in the red-leather thesaurus which had belonged to her father, maintained a detailed journal, kept a diligent sc.r.a.pbook, and studied with concentration. Highly successful as a student, she was also elected to cla.s.s and college offices; she became a member of the editorial board of The Smith Review) The Smith Review) went for weekends to men's colleges, and published stories and poems in went for weekends to men's colleges, and published stories and poems in Seventeen. Seventeen. But at the time she wrote in a letter: "for the few little outward successes I may seem to have, there are acres of misgiving and self-doubt." Of this period a friend later said: "It was as if Sylvia couldn't wait for life to come to her.... She rushed out to greet it, to make things happen." But at the time she wrote in a letter: "for the few little outward successes I may seem to have, there are acres of misgiving and self-doubt." Of this period a friend later said: "It was as if Sylvia couldn't wait for life to come to her.... She rushed out to greet it, to make things happen."
As she became increasingly conscious of herself as a woman, the conflict between the life-style of a poet/intellectual and that of a wife and mother became a central preoccupation, and she wrote: "...it's quite amazing how I've gone around for most of my life as in the rarefied atmosphere under a bell jar." In August 1951 she won Mademoiselle Mademoiselle magazine's fiction contest with a short story, "Sunday at the Mintons," and in the following year, her junior year in college, Sylvia was awarded two Smith poetry prizes and was elected to Phi Beta Kappa and to Alpha, the Smith College honorary society for the arts. Then in the summer of 1952 she was chosen to be a guest editor in magazine's fiction contest with a short story, "Sunday at the Mintons," and in the following year, her junior year in college, Sylvia was awarded two Smith poetry prizes and was elected to Phi Beta Kappa and to Alpha, the Smith College honorary society for the arts. Then in the summer of 1952 she was chosen to be a guest editor in Mademoiselle's Mademoiselle's College Board Contest. In her sc.r.a.pbook, she described the beginning of that month in New York in the breathy style of the magazine: College Board Contest. In her sc.r.a.pbook, she described the beginning of that month in New York in the breathy style of the magazine: After being one of the two national winners of Mademoiselle's Mademoiselle's fiction contest ($500!) last August, I felt that I was coming home again when I won a guest editorship representing Smith & took a train to NYC for a salaried month working--hatted & heeled--in fiction contest ($500!) last August, I felt that I was coming home again when I won a guest editorship representing Smith & took a train to NYC for a salaried month working--hatted & heeled--in Mlle Mlle's air conditioned Madison Ave. offices....Fantastic, fabulous, and all other inadequate adjectives go to describe the four gala and chaotic weeks I worked as guest managing Ed...living in luxury at the Barbizon, I edited, met celebrities, was feted and feasted by a galaxy of UN delegates, simultaneous interpreters & artists...an almost unbelievable merry-go-round month--this Smith Cinderella met idols: Vance Bourjaily, Paul Engle, Elizabeth Bowen--wrote article via correspondence with 5 handsome young male poet teachers.
The poets were Alistair Reid, Anthony Hecht, Richard Wilbur, George Steiner, and William Burford, whose pictures were accompanied by biographical notes and comments on poets and poetry.
After 230-odd pages of advertising, the bulk of the August 1953 college issue was introduced by Sylvia as Guest Managing Editor with "Mile's "Mile's last word on college, '53." Under a vapid picture of the guest editors holding hands in star formation, dressed alike in tartan skirts with matching Eton caps and openmouthed smiles, she wrote: last word on college, '53." Under a vapid picture of the guest editors holding hands in star formation, dressed alike in tartan skirts with matching Eton caps and openmouthed smiles, she wrote: We're stargazers this season, bewitched by an atmosphere of evening blue. Foremost in the fashion constellation we spot Mlle's Mlle's own tartan, the astronomic versatility of sweaters, and men, men, men--we've even taken the shirts off their backs! Focusing our telescope on college news around the globe, we debate and deliberate. Issues illuminated: academic freedom, the sorority controversy, our much labeled (and libeled) generation. From our favorite fields, stars of the first magnitude shed a bright influence on our plans for jobs and futures. Although horoscopes for our ultimate orbits aren't yet in, we Guest Eds. are counting on a favorable forecast with this sendoff from own tartan, the astronomic versatility of sweaters, and men, men, men--we've even taken the shirts off their backs! Focusing our telescope on college news around the globe, we debate and deliberate. Issues illuminated: academic freedom, the sorority controversy, our much labeled (and libeled) generation. From our favorite fields, stars of the first magnitude shed a bright influence on our plans for jobs and futures. Although horoscopes for our ultimate orbits aren't yet in, we Guest Eds. are counting on a favorable forecast with this sendoff from Mile, Mile, the star of the campus. the star of the campus.
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No doubt she was far more pleased with page 358--"Mlle. 358--"Mlle. finally published 'Mad Girl's Lovesong'--my favorite villanelle": finally published 'Mad Girl's Lovesong'--my favorite villanelle": 1) MAD GIRL'S LOVE SONG MAD GIRL'S LOVE SONG A VILLANELLE.
By Sylvia Plath Smith College, '54 I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head. ) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head. ) G.o.d topples from the sky, h.e.l.l's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head. ) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head. ) That summer, too, Harper's Magazine Harper's Magazine paid $100 for three poems which Sylvia identified as "first professional earnings." Later, a.s.sessing these bubbling achievements, she wrote, "All in all, I felt upborne on a wave of creative, social and financial success--The six month crash, however, was to come--" paid $100 for three poems which Sylvia identified as "first professional earnings." Later, a.s.sessing these bubbling achievements, she wrote, "All in all, I felt upborne on a wave of creative, social and financial success--The six month crash, however, was to come--"
These were the events which took place in her 'life in the summer and autumn of 1953--at the time of the electrocution of the Rosenbergs, at the time when Senator Joseph McCarthy was forcing his power, at the beginning of the Eisenhower presidency--these were the events which Sylvia Plath reconstructed in The Bell jar. The Bell jar. Years later she described the book she wanted to write: Years later she described the book she wanted to write: the pressures of the fashion magazine world which seems increasingly superficial and artificial, the return home to the dead summer world of a suburb of Boston. Here the cracks in her [the heroine, Esther Greenwood's] nature which had been held together as it were by the surrounding pressures of New York widen and gape alarmingly. More and more her warped view of the world around--her own vacuous domestic life, and that of her neighbors--seems the one right way of looking at things.
For Sylvia then came electroshock therapy and finally her well-publicized disappearance, subsequent discovery and consequent hospitalization for psychotherapy and more shock treatment. She wrote: "A "A time of darkness, despair, disillusion--so black only as the inferno of the human mind can be--symbolic death, and numb shock--then the painful agony of slow rebirth and psychic regeneration." time of darkness, despair, disillusion--so black only as the inferno of the human mind can be--symbolic death, and numb shock--then the painful agony of slow rebirth and psychic regeneration."
Subsequently Sylvia returned to Smith College and reconquered "old broncos that threw me for a loop last year." At the [image]
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beginning of the next summer she wrote that "a semester of reconstruction ends with an infinitely more solid if less flashingly spectacular flourish than last year's." By the end of the next academic year, she had sold more poems, earned additional prizes, and written her long paper for English honors on the double personality in Dostoyevski's novels. In June 1955 she graduated from Smith College summa c.u.m laude summa c.u.m laude with the prospect of an English Fulbright year in Newnham College at Cambridge University. There Sylvia met the British poet Ted Hughes, whom she married in London on June 16, 1956: Bloomsday. Sylvia's Fulbright was renewed and, after a vacation in Spain, Ted and Sylvia lived in Cambridge for another year. Then, in the spring of 1957, they moved to the United States, where Sylvia was a.s.sessed by her colleagues as "one of the two or three finest instructors ever to appear in the English department at Smith College." with the prospect of an English Fulbright year in Newnham College at Cambridge University. There Sylvia met the British poet Ted Hughes, whom she married in London on June 16, 1956: Bloomsday. Sylvia's Fulbright was renewed and, after a vacation in Spain, Ted and Sylvia lived in Cambridge for another year. Then, in the spring of 1957, they moved to the United States, where Sylvia was a.s.sessed by her colleagues as "one of the two or three finest instructors ever to appear in the English department at Smith College."
It is probable that Sylvia already had a version of The Bell Jar The Bell Jar in her trunks when she returned to the States, but she was concentrating on poetry and on teaching. In June 1958, she applied for a Eugene F. Saxton Memorial Fellowship to complete her book of poems. The Saxton Fellowship had been established "to honor an outstanding editor of Harper & Brothers"; the trust, at the discretion of the trustees, gave outright grants of money to writers for living expenses. Agreement of all three trustees was necessary to make the grant, and one of them, who called the sample poems "beyond reproach," noted that "in looking over Mrs. Hughes' history, I see that she has had valuable awards dropped into her lap during most of her adult life. Perhaps it would not do her any real harm to continue her work for a while as a teacher in a fine college. My impulse is rejection, though I think the quality of her work ent.i.tles her to serious consideration." In October 1958 the application was rejected with a special letter from the secretary to the trustees, who wanted Mrs. Hughes to know that "your application aroused more than ordinary interest. The talent--which is marked--was not a matter for dispute but rather the nature of the project." in her trunks when she returned to the States, but she was concentrating on poetry and on teaching. In June 1958, she applied for a Eugene F. Saxton Memorial Fellowship to complete her book of poems. The Saxton Fellowship had been established "to honor an outstanding editor of Harper & Brothers"; the trust, at the discretion of the trustees, gave outright grants of money to writers for living expenses. Agreement of all three trustees was necessary to make the grant, and one of them, who called the sample poems "beyond reproach," noted that "in looking over Mrs. Hughes' history, I see that she has had valuable awards dropped into her lap during most of her adult life. Perhaps it would not do her any real harm to continue her work for a while as a teacher in a fine college. My impulse is rejection, though I think the quality of her work ent.i.tles her to serious consideration." In October 1958 the application was rejected with a special letter from the secretary to the trustees, who wanted Mrs. Hughes to know that "your application aroused more than ordinary interest. The talent--which is marked--was not a matter for dispute but rather the nature of the project."
Meanwhile the Hugheses had moved to a small apartment on Beacon Hill, "living on a shoestring for a year in Boston writing to see what we could do." Sylvia had made the difficult decision to give up teaching, and to discard an academic plan for which she had been groomed since childhood, in exchange for a less certain existence but one which she hoped would give her more time to write. However, as the year progressed, and her book of poems was repeatedly submitted and rejected under everchanging tides, she wrote: Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing, which remark I guess shows I still don't have a pure motive (O it's-such-fun-I-just-can't-stop-who-cares-if-it's-published-or-read) about writing....I still want to see it finally ritualized in print.
In December 1959, Ted and Sylvia returned to England to live. In April 1960 their first child, Frieda, was born. At last Sylvia's book of poetry, The Colossus, The Colossus, was accepted for fall publication by William Heinemann Limited. Subsequently Sylvia suffered a miscarriage, then an appendectomy, and then became pregnant again. On May 1, 1961, she again applied for a Eugene F. Saxton Fellowship; this time in order to finish a novel which she described as one-sixth completed--about fifty pages. On the application Sylvia had asked for money to cover "babysitter or nanny at about $5 a day, 6 days a week for a year, $1,560. Rent of study at about $10 a week: $520 for a year. Total: $2,080....(At present I am living in a two room flat with my husband and year old baby and having to work part time to meet living expenses. )" To a friend she wrote that she was "over one third through a novel about a college girl building up for and going through a nervous breakdown." She wrote: was accepted for fall publication by William Heinemann Limited. Subsequently Sylvia suffered a miscarriage, then an appendectomy, and then became pregnant again. On May 1, 1961, she again applied for a Eugene F. Saxton Fellowship; this time in order to finish a novel which she described as one-sixth completed--about fifty pages. On the application Sylvia had asked for money to cover "babysitter or nanny at about $5 a day, 6 days a week for a year, $1,560. Rent of study at about $10 a week: $520 for a year. Total: $2,080....(At present I am living in a two room flat with my husband and year old baby and having to work part time to meet living expenses. )" To a friend she wrote that she was "over one third through a novel about a college girl building up for and going through a nervous breakdown." She wrote: I have been wanting to do this for ten years but had a terrible block about Writing A Novel. Then suddenly in beginning negotiations with a New York publisher for an American edition of my poems, the d.y.k.es broke and I stayed awake all night seized by fearsome excitement, saw how it should be done, started the next day & go every morning to my borrowed study as to an office & belt out more of it.
In the summer, the Hugheses moved to Devon to live in a thatch-roofed country house, and on November 6, 1961, the secretary to the Saxton trustees wrote that they had voted to give her a grant in the amount of $2,080, "the sum you suggested." Sylvia replied, "I was very happy to receive your good letter today telling about the Saxton Fellowship. I certainly do plan to go ahead with the novel and the award comes at a particularly helpful time to free me to do so."
On January 17, 1962, a son, Nicholas, was born. The days were divided among the babies, housework, and writing, but on February 10, 1962, Sylvia punctually delivered her first quarterly report on the progress of her novel to the Saxton trustees. "During the past three months the novel has progressed very satisfactorily, according to my drafted schedule. I have worked through several rough drafts to a final version of Chapters 5 through 8, completing a total of 105 pages of the novel in all, and have outlined in detail Chapters 9 through l2." Then she gave in detail the plans for The Bell jar. The Bell jar. Although the novel was going well, Sylvia complained to a friend that she felt she was doing little work: "a couple of poems I like a year looks like a Although the novel was going well, Sylvia complained to a friend that she felt she was doing little work: "a couple of poems I like a year looks like a [image]
lot when they come out, but in fact are points of satisfaction separated by large vacancies." On May 1, 1962, in the next quarterly report to the Saxton trustees, she wrote, "The novel is getting on very well, and according to schedule. I have completed Chapters 9 through 12 (pages 106-166) and projected in detailed outline the next lap of the book." By June 1962 she could tell a friend: "I'm writing again. Really writing. I'd like you to see some of my new poems." She had begun the Ariel Ariel poems and was confident enough to want to show them, to have them read, to read them aloud. These poems were different: her husband has written that "Tulips" "was the first sign of what was on its way. She wrote this poem without her usual studies over the thesaurus, and at top speed, as one might write an urgent letter. From then on, all her poems were written in this way." poems and was confident enough to want to show them, to have them read, to read them aloud. These poems were different: her husband has written that "Tulips" "was the first sign of what was on its way. She wrote this poem without her usual studies over the thesaurus, and at top speed, as one might write an urgent letter. From then on, all her poems were written in this way."
On August 1, 1962, Sylvia sent her final progress report to the Saxton trustees: The novel is rounding out now, shaping up pretty much as planned, and I have completed Chapters 13 through 16 (pages 167-221) and am hoping the last lap goes as well.
After a vacation in Ireland, Sylvia and Ted decided to separate for a while. The summer had been difficult. She had suffered repeated attacks of flu accompanied by high fever. Another winter in Devon seemed impossible. She began to commute to London, where she was "getting work with the BBC" and hunting for a flat. The ma.n.u.script of The Bell Jar The Bell Jar had been sent to the trustees of the Saxton Fellowship in the States, and Heinemann had accepted the novel in England and was setting it into type. A few days before Christmas, Sylvia moved herself and the children to London, where she had signed a five-year lease on a flat: had been sent to the trustees of the Saxton Fellowship in the States, and Heinemann had accepted the novel in England and was setting it into type. A few days before Christmas, Sylvia moved herself and the children to London, where she had signed a five-year lease on a flat: ...a small miracle happened--I'd been to Yeats' tower at Ballylea while in Ireland & thought it the most beautiful & peaceful place in the world; then, walking desolately around my beloved Primrose Hill in London and brooding on the hopelessness of ever finding a flat...I pa.s.sed Yeats' house, with its blue plaque "Yeats lived here" which I'd often pa.s.sed & longed to live in. A sign board was up--flats to rent, I flew to the agent. By a miracle you can only know if you've ever tried to flat hunt in London, I was first to apply....I am here on a 5 year lease & it is utter heaven...and it's Yeats' house, which right now means a lot to me.
Sylvia took the finding of the Yeats house for a sign. She told a friend that when she went out to look for flats that day, she had "known" she would find it, and so, with that confirmation, she began to make plans with energetic a.s.surance. She was working on a new novel, and the Ariel Ariel poems were continuing to flow. She told another friend that she thought of poems were continuing to flow. She told another friend that she thought of The Bell jar The Bell jar ''as an autobiographical apprentice work which I had to write in order to free myself from the past." But the new novel, about more recent events in her life, she regarded as strong, powerful and urgent. ''as an autobiographical apprentice work which I had to write in order to free myself from the past." But the new novel, about more recent events in her life, she regarded as strong, powerful and urgent.
When The Bell jar The Bell jar was published, in January 1963, Sylvia was distressed by the reviews, although another reader, not the author and not under the same sorts of stress, might have interpreted the critics' views of the novel far differently. Lawrence Lerner in the was published, in January 1963, Sylvia was distressed by the reviews, although another reader, not the author and not under the same sorts of stress, might have interpreted the critics' views of the novel far differently. Lawrence Lerner in the Listener Listener wrote, "There are criticisms of America that the neurotic can make as well as anyone, perhaps better, and Miss Lucas makes them brilliantly." The wrote, "There are criticisms of America that the neurotic can make as well as anyone, perhaps better, and Miss Lucas makes them brilliantly." The Times Literary Supplement Times Literary Supplement observed that the author "can certainly write," and went on to say that "if she can learn to shape as well as she imagines, she may write an extremely good book." In the observed that the author "can certainly write," and went on to say that "if she can learn to shape as well as she imagines, she may write an extremely good book." In the New Statesman) New Statesman) Robert Taubman called Robert Taubman called The Bell jar The Bell jar "the first feminine novel in a Salinger mood." "the first feminine novel in a Salinger mood."
In 1970, Aurelia Plath, her mother, wrote a letter to Sylvia's editor at Harper & Row in New York about the antic.i.p.ated publication of the first American edition of The Bell jar: The Bell jar: I realize that no explanation of the why why of personal suffering that this publication here [publication of of personal suffering that this publication here [publication of The Bell jar The Bell jar in the United States] will create in the lives of several people nor any appeal on any other grounds is going to stop this, so I shall waste neither my time nor yours in pointing out the inevitable repercussions....I do want to tell you of one of the last conversations I had with my daughter in early July, 1962, just before her personal world fell apart. Sylvia had told me of the pressure she was under in fulfilling her obligation to the Eugene Saxton Fund. As you know, she had been given a grant by this fund to enable her to write a novel. In the s.p.a.ce of time allotted, she had a miscarriage, an appendectomy, and had given birth to her second child, Nicholas. in the United States] will create in the lives of several people nor any appeal on any other grounds is going to stop this, so I shall waste neither my time nor yours in pointing out the inevitable repercussions....I do want to tell you of one of the last conversations I had with my daughter in early July, 1962, just before her personal world fell apart. Sylvia had told me of the pressure she was under in fulfilling her obligation to the Eugene Saxton Fund. As you know, she had been given a grant by this fund to enable her to write a novel. In the s.p.a.ce of time allotted, she had a miscarriage, an appendectomy, and had given birth to her second child, Nicholas."What I've done," I remember her saying, "is to throw together events from my own life, fictionalizing to add color--it's a pot boiler really, but I think it will show how isolated a person feels when he is suffering a breakdown....I've tried to picture my world and the people in it as seen through the distorting lens of a bell jar." Then she went on to say, "My second book will show that same world as seen through the eyes of health." Practically every character in The Bell jar The Bell jar represents someone--often in caricature--whom Sylvia loved; each person had given freely of time, thought, affection, and, in one case, financial help during those agonizing six months of breakdown in 1953...as this book stands by itself, it represents the basest ingrat.i.tude. That was not the basis of Sylvia's personality; it was the reason she became so frightened when, at the time of publication, the book was widely read and showed signs of becoming a success. Sylvia wrote her brother that "this must never be published in the United States."...The very t.i.tle represents someone--often in caricature--whom Sylvia loved; each person had given freely of time, thought, affection, and, in one case, financial help during those agonizing six months of breakdown in 1953...as this book stands by itself, it represents the basest ingrat.i.tude. That was not the basis of Sylvia's personality; it was the reason she became so frightened when, at the time of publication, the book was widely read and showed signs of becoming a success. Sylvia wrote her brother that "this must never be published in the United States."...The very t.i.tle The Bell Jar The Bell Jar should imply what Sylvia told me and that is what the astute reader should infer.... should imply what Sylvia told me and that is what the astute reader should infer....
It was the coldest winter in London since 1813-14. Light and heat went off at unannounced intervals. Pipes froze. She had applied, and her name was on the list, but a telephone had not yet been installed. Each morning before the children woke at eight, Sylvia worked on the Ariel Ariel poems. Here the sense of human experience as horrid and ungovernable, the sense of all relationships as puppetlike and meaningless, had come to dominate her imagination. Yet she wrote with intensity, convinced that what she was now writing could be said by no one else. Always there was the need to be practical, to find time for the deliberate expression of anguish. Sylvia wrote, "I feel like a very efficient tool or weapon, used and in demand from moment to moment...." She had seen a doctor who had prescribed sedatives and had arranged for her to consult a psychotherapist. She wrote for an appointment and had also written to her former psychiatrist in Boston. A recurrent problem of sinus infection developed. She had fired her poems. Here the sense of human experience as horrid and ungovernable, the sense of all relationships as puppetlike and meaningless, had come to dominate her imagination. Yet she wrote with intensity, convinced that what she was now writing could be said by no one else. Always there was the need to be practical, to find time for the deliberate expression of anguish. Sylvia wrote, "I feel like a very efficient tool or weapon, used and in demand from moment to moment...." She had seen a doctor who had prescribed sedatives and had arranged for her to consult a psychotherapist. She wrote for an appointment and had also written to her former psychiatrist in Boston. A recurrent problem of sinus infection developed. She had fired her au pair au pair girl and was waiting for a replacement "to help with the babes mornings so I can write... nights are no good, I'm so flat by then that all I can cope with is music & brandy & water." girl and was waiting for a replacement "to help with the babes mornings so I can write... nights are no good, I'm so flat by then that all I can cope with is music & brandy & water."
In spite of the help of friends and antic.i.p.ation of spring (she was to return to the house in Devon around May Day), she was despairing and ill. But the poems continued to come, even in the last week of her life--several extraordinary poems. To those around her it appeared that she had not given up. Frequently she seemed bright, cheerful, full of hope.
However, on the morning of February 11,1963, she ended her life. Who can explain why? why? As Sylvia had written earlier in the last optimistic pages of As Sylvia had written earlier in the last optimistic pages of The Bell Jar: The Bell Jar: How did I know that someday--at college, in Europe, somewhere, anywhere--the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn't descend again?
--that bell jar out of which she had once struggled brilliantly, successfully, apparently completely, but of which she could write with the clarity of one who has endured: "to the person in The Bell Jar, black and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream."