One of the easiest 5’s I’ve given.

Sylvia Plath is renowned for her tragic death and the overwhelming depression that haunted her. However, this often leads us to forget the vibrant life that she truly led. Ironically, despite being such a famously complex individual, we tend to overlook the true depth and complexity of her character. In these journals, she emerges as a real, down-to-earth person, filled with inspiration and passion. Reading Sylvia’s thoughts at the age of twenty, while being twenty myself, I was deeply struck by our similar musings, fears, and quick remarks. I found myself longing to be her friend.

Sylvia’s life and work have always held a great fascination for me, and I have loved her since I first read The Bell Jar. But this experience was different. If The Bell Jar reveals her frustration with the limited life and career options available to 50s white women and shows how depression ultimately claimed her life, these journals make it even more poignantly clear.

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the invasion of her privacy in this way. After reading how personal these entries are, I’m fairly certain that she (or any person) would not have wanted them to be made public. Nevertheless, I’m also glad that they exist, as I thoroughly enjoyed reading all of her thoughts throughout the years of her life, both the casual and witty ones and those that are filled with deep emotion.

After reading her ironic, quiet, and foreshadowing comments about her desire to write a bestselling novel and have her musings be universally felt, I believe she would be happy with her posthumous success. However, I also think she would be saddened that it came as a result of her death. For some tragic reason, although Sylvia in life was sharp, radiant, and full of color, it was Sylvia in death that captured everyone’s attention.

—

“Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don’t want to die.”

“But what do I know of sorrow? No one I love has ever died or been tortured… I have been gifted with five senses and an attractive exterior. So I can philosophize from my snug little cushioned seat… What have I to complain about? Nothing much.”

“I think I am worthwhile just because I have optical nerves and can try to put down what they perceive. What a fool!”

“I am not only jealous; I am vain and proud. I will not submit to having my life fingered by my husband, enclosed in the larger circle of his activity, and nourished vicariously by tales of his actual exploits. I must have a legitimate field of my own, apart from his, which he must respect.”

The Unabridged Journals

truly serves as a remarkable tool that helps to unspool the extremely tangled and electric filaments of Plath's inner world. It offers us a precious peek into her rich and intricate labyrinth. In this labyrinth, searing self-reflection and the troubled shadows of melancholy blend and intertwine with sudden bursts of creative epiphany. It is as if we are granted access to the deepest recesses of her mind, witnessing the turmoil and the moments of inspiration that defined her.

It’s a hauntingly intimate and raw glimpse into the complex mind of one of the 20th century's most iconic poets. Through her journals, we can see the inner workings of her genius, the struggles she faced, and the beauty that emerged from her tortured soul. The Unabridged Journals is not just a collection of words; it is a window into a world that is both captivating and heartbreaking.

The Unabridged Journals

Reading someone's journal is truly the most intimate encounter with that person. It's as if you have the key to unlock the deepest recesses of their soul, delving into every nook and cranny of their mind. What they pen down on those pages are the most private admissions, meant to be shielded from the outside world. And in doing so, you witness the person in their purest form, unfiltered and without any pretence. Reading Plath's journals was the most profound way to peek into her brilliant psyche, revealing more than any of her other works could. This was the real her, unadulterated, raw, sometimes exultant and soaring, while at other times, despondent and broken. Her journals depict a real human being, complex in nature, sometimes easily comprehensible and relatable, and at other times, making choices or holding beliefs that make one stop and gaze at the pages in disbelief. They are also the most prominent literary evidence of her genius and remarkable talent, leaving you to wonder about all the potential masterpieces Plath could have bestowed upon us if not for her tragic demise at such a young age.

The first half of the book is a wonderful read. You encounter a bright young woman, full of vitality and ambition, reflecting on all that is transpiring around her, overflowing with life and potential, eager to be seen and heard in the world. The entries are filled with introspection as well as observation, showcasing a young yet mature mind questioning the existing order and striving to make sense of her life. The significant shift in her writing becomes palpable after 1956, the year she married Ted Hughes. Suddenly, you see a woman in despair, somewhat secluded, doubting her own brilliance, and constantly positioning herself in an inferior stance to praise Hughes. At times, the pattern of domestic abuse is glaringly obvious; at other times, you have to read between the lines, but the hints are still there. It would be dishonest to say that her subservience wasn't concerning at certain moments.

Reading Plath's journals is like having an older sister beside you. She guides you, inspires you, and encourages you, but at the same time, she infuriates you, cautions you, and exposes her mistakes in front of you so that you don't repeat them yourself.