I generally avoid poetry. However, Sylvia Plath and her Bell Jar became my exception. In my youth, I wept for her tortured soul, her life that was cut short so tragically, and her poor motherless babies. Years later, when Birthday Letters was released, I devoured all the reviews I could lay my hands on. But out of a sense of principled allegiance to Sylvia, I stubbornly refused to read it myself, as if somehow willing Ted Hughes to suffer because I withheld my $16.95.
I'm truly glad to have discovered Ariel's Gift by Erica Wagner. Her exhaustive research is evident throughout the book. I deeply appreciate that she managed to avoid cluttering such a sadly beautiful work with footnotes. This book sent shivers down my spine. It felt suspenseful even though I was fully aware of what was coming.
Wagner does a phenomenal job presenting an even-handed commentary on this highly charged subject. She includes both praise and criticism. Thanks to this author, I now have a more peaceful regard for both Plath and Hughes and their combined brilliance. I still consider Sylvia Plath a hero, but I can see that her mental illness was a far greater villain to her than her husband ever was. I find myself wondering if she had been allowed to attend her father's funeral, would that have made a significant difference in her life?