The Bell Jar is a first person narrative about one woman's total alienation - from the self, from society, from the world - with the cold war as a backdrop (the references to the the Rosenbergs, the UN, Russians). She is a sort of female 'underground man' of the new age.

The story is told simply, though complex in structure and themes. Sylvia Plath writes with a clear direct style that is ironic, funny, and poetic.

Esther, a young woman of the 1950s, is in New York for a brief, glamourous job at a magazine. New York! the centre of the world, the jazz and push of New York, the dark heart of New York. Clothes and parties and men. Esther finds no excitement in this: her mind is on the Rosenbergs, and "being burned alive all along your nerves." She feels empty. It is a crisis of identity, but of course it is more than that. Her sense is that society has placed her under a bell jar, where she is stifled and unable to act.

Magazines, the media of the day, had a large influence on women and their self image. On the one hand, they showed how exiting life could be with a career and travel. Yet they also sanctified motherhood and the good wife. Esther uses an allegory to show how this type of doublethink fragments and paralyzes her :

From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.

I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

The moment of total alienation comes when she crawls into the underground - a dark gap in a cellar - to take her own life. From this lowest point she is rescued and brought to recovery, and again able to listen to the old brag of her heart, "I am, I am, I am".

She can breathe and live. The bell jar is lifted, at least for a time.

n
وكانت فكرة أن أقتل نفسي قد رسخت في عقلي بهدوء مثل شجرة أو زهرة
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n

n

في عام 1963 كانت سيلفيا بلاث قد حسمت أمرها‏
أطلت على طفليها اللذين لم يكن عمر أكبرهما قد بلغ العامين بعد
أطعمتهما وتركت مزيدا من الطعام واللبن‏
فتحت النوافذ عن آخرها
ثم تهادت بخفة إلى المطبخ
وسدت كل منافذ الهواء
وفتحت صمامات الغاز‏
وأرقدت رأسها المعذّب المختنق بناقوسه الزجاجي‏ في الفرن
‏ وتركت نفسها تتسرب ببطء إلى العالم الآخر‏

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من الصعب أن تقرأ كتابا لكاتب انتحر دون أن تبحث به ‏
عن كل الاشارات التي قد تدل على أنه سيفعلها قريبا
رغم أن ذلك يبدو طفوليا وساذجا

لا يمكنك أن تفصل بين الرواية وسيلفيا‏
لا يمكنك تقييمها تقييما أدبيا محايدا ‏
فهي شهقات سيلفيا الأخيرة قبل اقدامها على الانتحار

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n
‏-أتعرفين ما هي القصيدة يا إستر؟
‏-لا ، ما القصيدة؟
‏-إنها شيء من الغبار
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الناقوس الزجاجي
هذا العالم المشوه الذي ينتج عن مرض الادراك الحسي الفصامي
بأعراضه المدمرة
وغلافه الزجاجي الذي يحيط بعقلك فحرق ويمزق ويميت‏

حين تموت الأبجدية أمام شاعرة
فتستحيل الحروف طلاسمًا ‏
ويبدو كل ما حولها خطرا وغير حقيقي
ما الذي يتبقى؟
هل لك أن تتخيل أن تتهاوى الأبجدية أمام شاعرة فلا تستطيع الامساك بها؟
بل تخرج لها لسانها في تحد وسخرية بينما ترقد هي تتعاطى صدمات الكهرباء ومرارة الخوف؟؟
هكذا حاولت سيلفيا تصوير عالمها والناس فيه مثلما رأته في العدسة المشوهة للناقوس الزجاجي -على حد قولها

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كل شيء يبدو أكثر حدة مع أوجاعك النفسية
تغدو أعصابك عارية
كل تفاعل تمر به يتشوه بداخلك
كل مشكلة حياتية تغدو لغزاً فلسفيًا ولعنة من السماء

ان المنظور المنحرف الذي ترى به استر العالم المحيط بها
هو نفسه منظور سيلفيا
استر هي سيلفيا في وقت ما من حياتها
‏لاحظ حتى أن الأسماء سيلفيا، إستر، ‏
ثم إيلين الشخصية التي تتخيلها إستر في روايتها
كلهن تتطابق حروف أسمائهن في الإنجليزية
كلهن سيلفيا

تقع إستر –بطلة روايتنا فريسة لمرض
يحيط دماغها المسكين بشرائح زجاجية ‏
تصبحٍ كل ذكرياتها
المصهورة بألف لون وطعم ورائحة
هي المنظر الطبيعي‏ الحقيقي
وليست الألوان المشبعة بها الطبيعة الخضراء
التي قد تبدو لنظرها سخيفة

في كل مرة تجرب طريقة جديدة وتفشل في اتقانها
حتى كانت اللحظة التي شقت فيها رسغيها
واختبأت لتموت في قبو المنزل

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n
لا شيء يوطّد عرى صداقتك مع شخص آخر أكثر من التقيؤ في حضوره
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وكانت سيلفيا بخفة دم غريبة تتحدث عن أفكارها عن الانتحار وعما قد يعوقها عنه فلا تملك إلا أن تقع في حبها
كأن تقطع شرايينها في ماء دافئ فيكون الماء أكثر برودة مما ينبغي مثلا‏
‎:D

لسيلفيا عالمها الرائع الخاص بها وحدها
وستكتشفه بعمق مع قصائدها المذهلة

n
أكره الأفلام الملونة حيث يبدو كل شخص وكأنه مضطر لارتداء أزياء رهيبة في كل مشهد جديد
والوقوف في الجوار كمنشر الغسيل
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قرب النهاية قال بدي لإستر ببساطة :‏
‏ أتساءل من ستتزوجين الآن يا إستر وقد كنتِ ...هنا –يقصد المصحة
وعندما تشابك قدري سيلفيا وتيد ‏
لم تكن تعلم أنه بشهوته لمطاردة النساء واتخاذ عشيقات ‏
قد سطر الحرف الأخير في حلم سعادتها ‏
‏ الذي انتهى سريعا كشهاب في حياتها القصيرة البائسة‏

كما تشابهت الجملة التي قالها بدي لإستر
هل هناك شيء في يحيل النساء مجنونات؟"‏"
بحياة تيد نفسه بطريقة مثيرة للاستغراب
فقد انتحرت زوجته ثم عشيقته كلتاهما بالغاز
‏" فهل هناك شيئاً في تيد يجعل النساء تقدمن على الانتحار وبالغاز تحديدا؟؟!!"‏

دعنا نحاول الجواب هنا
رسائل عيد الميلاد..ديوان تيد هيوز إلى سيلفيا بلاث
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‏"كان علي أن أكتب لأتحرر من الماضي"‏
هل استرجعت سيلفيا الماضي وغاصت فيه مجددا؟ ‏
هل تحولت تجربة الكتابة إلى استعادة الوجع كله
بدلا من أن تكون طريقة شافية ناجحة؟
ألم تستطع اغلاق صفحة الماضي وتتطلع إلى حياة أكثر استقرارا؟؟

يبدو أنها أجابتنا عن هذا السؤال
‏.......‏

First Read: April 2017, Rating: 5/5 stars
Second Read: March 2020, Rating: 5/5 stars

How do I even begin to do this book justice?

Plath's discourse on mental illness is so startling bleak that it is hard not to get dragged down by the negativity this emotes. In that way, this is a mirror of dually the protagonist Esther's, Plath's own, and the reader's emotions. These many layers build upon each other until it becomes hard to tell where each individual's feelings starts and ends, so completely was I caught up in both Esther and Plath's inner-turmoil. Their story became, too, my shared one.

This established mood permeates the entire story and becomes as much a part of the tale, as the actual plot. The utterly immersive quality of the writing is what drew me in, captivated my attention and spat me back out again, feeling utterly used, at the novel's close.

“I felt dreadfully inadequate.”

Ugh.
That is how I felt after finishing this book. Thank goodness it is short, because when I decided I could not stomach it for more than a few pages at a time, it would have taken more forever to finish otherwise.

There is no joy in “The Bell Jar”. No hope. And I have read many books where that is the case. The problem with this book is that there is no point to any of it. No real characterization, no depth. As I read this text I kept thinking of “The Catcher in the Rye”, another underwhelming experience for me. I think both texts suffer from protagonist problems, and both are products of their time and they did not age well.

I could be nice and blame the time of year I read it, in between Thanksgiving and Christmas, for my dislike but that would be a cop out. 200 pages of how one would like to commit suicide. That’s a book? Maybe with a compelling characterization, or with more than a shallow examination of motivating factors for such thoughts, but this surface examination is a misfire on both counts.

I honestly don’t know what else to say about “The Bell Jar”. I can appreciate the skill of the writer. There are flashes of it in this book. Plath was a great poet, but a novelist, no. I think this text is one of those where its “greatness is thrust upon it” by people who wanted it for various agendas. If just standing alone, it does not merit any such claim.

I did find I was engaged in the last 20 pages or so, where the book shifts gears, but that also may have been because I knew I was almost done.

And I would not be picking it up again.

“To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream.”



It had been a number of years since I last read Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. What I’d remembered most was how well Plath had established the mood for this story by weaving the electrocutions of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg with the mental breakdown of her heroine, Esther Greenwood. But the story is definitely about Esther, her ambition, and her own feelings of inadequacy, even though (viewed from the outside) Esther would be seen as a success.

What is amazing about this writing is its immersive quality; you feel Esther’s restrictive choices and alienation from her world because you ultimately realize the world she has been striving for was never in her grasp. The repeated questions (after she is being treated for her depression) about who will marry her now only reinforce the notion that for the intelligent and talented Esther Greenwood, there had never been a good way to extricate herself from a trap that she had always seen coming. Very compelling narrative!

This is a disturbingly frightening journey through the mind of a young girl suffering from depression in the 1950's. How far we have come in the last few decades in recognizing depression as a mental illness and treating it with much less radical techniques than electric shock.
Ester Greenwood is 19 and her future is just starting to unfold. Yet, day by day, she is questioning herself: her capabilities, her confidence, who she is, and what does it mean. Her thoughts turn dark and helplessness envelopes her in a tight, downward spiral.
Plath captures the emotional characterization of depression and the utter helplessness that accompanies it. I truly felt like I was living this horror with her. 4+ ★

There are many who have read The Bell Jar and absolutely loved it. I am gladly considering myself one of them. I was a little caught of guard when I read a few reviews of The Bell Jar comparing it to The Catcher in the Rye stating how it's the female version of it. I liked Catcher but I know there are many people who didn't and upon hearing that may be similar to Catcher not have the desire to read it. I assure you, The Bell Jar is a book all on it's own and should not be compared to any other book... even as a compliment.

When I first started reading the book I was a little put off, feeling it was an extremely pretensious novel. Her descriptions were crisp and precise, often using words that one rarely hears spoken or even read. I went into the novel knowing that Plath was a poet and felt that at first the book was just another form of her poetry and her showing off her writing abilities. But that only remained within the first two pages, because after that I became absorbed. The writing that I was a little sketchy about at first helped me visualize the setting and get to know the characters. And though Plath never really described many characters as to their personality, I began to feel I knew them all intimately.

Strangely enough, if you remember in my last review, what bothered me most about The Good Earth did not bother me in The Bell Jar. Because the Esther, the character we are following, is slowly descending into madness, time no longer matters. There are a few times I was confused about the timeline, but it did not upset me.

The book really spoke to me because of my own personal experiences with depression and suicide. It spoke to me as a woman and my views on sex and the confusion I'm sure most other girls out there face. It's amazing that this book was written and published over 30 years ago, really, when a new woman was coming out into the world. I have a feeling that this book helped women realize that they're not alone, and brought things to light that most people have commonly shoved aside; women and men. But what else is amazing is how relevant these topics still are today. Specifically with suicide, and specifically about the virtue and pureness of women compared to men.

So I guess that is why The Bell Jar is often compared to The Catcher in the Rye, with it's discussions and writings of often controversial titles. Setting off a new generation of writers, styles, and people. Another book also came to mind as I was reading, and that was The Perks of Being a Wallflower. There are moments when I could make a few direct comparisons between the two. With Esther slowly seperating herself from socialization and sinking deeper into her own thoughts and depression. Analyzing things that go on around her and her surroundings. Very reminscent of Perks.

If you feel you're suffering from depression, madness, confusion about topics pertaining to society and sex, or just looking for a good read, The Bell Jar is definetly the book for you. I also advise, if you're seriously suffering from depression, to get help for yourself. There is no shame in it, and getting help is better than ending your life. Even if you need to go on medication, DO NOT feel ashamed, especially if it's going to help you even more.

"...wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air."

We all live in bell jars from time to time. I don't think there is any human being, lived or living, has escaped from being trapped in a bell jar at some point in their lives. The difference is that some of us break through and find our peace and contentment, either by ourselves or with the help of others. But some of us may not be that lucky. Even with the help and care of others, we may not have the strength and courage to break through the confining bell jar. This is the story of us all who are trapped in bell jars. But most importantly, this is the story of we who struggle, heavily and bitterly, and perhaps unsuccessfully, to break from our own bell jars.

Sylvia Plath's only novel is semi-autobiographical. This fact makes the work realistic and powerful, for readers cannot disregard that the material was stemming out of her own experience. It is said that there is a thin line dividing the genius and insane, and you can see how true that description is when you read the story. It is truly sad that one must pay a hard price for being a genius.

Esther Greenwood, the A-grade scholar, who everyone thinks is lucky and expects to shine in the world, is secretly fighting a dark battle. To the world, she is a genius, a potential future name. But to her, she is nothing but a hopeless wreck, who is qualified for nothing. This devaluation of self drags her to the bottom pit of hopelessness and envelops her with a vacant feeling which grows steadily till she seeks to escape into the unknown. From the failed attempted suicide to the asylum and freedom, she must struggle and struggle and struggle. Is there ever a freedom for her? Will the bell jar be closed on her forever?

Sylvia writes truthfully, emotionally, and with power. It's realistic, but unsettling at the same time. There are parts that are gut-wrenching and difficult to stomach. Some parts will bring you completely on your knees. When she wrote “I wanted to tell her that if only something were wrong with my body it would be fine, I would rather have anything wrong with my body than something wrong with my head...", it truly broke my heart. I wanted to shout at Esther, at Sylvia, and say "I see you!"

The story is emotionally wrecking. The firsthand narration of a person who descends into a dark abyss is not something easy to read. "To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream." The world is a bad dream for the one affected, and the story is one of horror to the one who reads. It is a depressing book. But I'd like to look at it as a beautiful work on mental illness, an anthem of tribute to those who have fallen or will fall into that painful dark abyss. It's tragic that Sylvia Plath had to end her life as she did. But her life, her suffering told to the world through this novel, will be her legacy to us. And The Bell Jar will always be a beautiful representation of her and those who have, and who will walk her path.

More of my reviews can be found at http://piyangiejay.com/

Some of you may ask "What were you thinking, Mizuki? Why did you give The Bell Jar only two stars? Isn't this book like, a classic?"

I am aware of the fact that Sylvia Plath is a famous poet and The Bell Jar is considered a classic, and I do agree that the writing is poetic and beautiful, the story is also very honest and realistic as well. In fact, Plath's writing and the first half of the book deserve four full stars; but sadly...everything took a nosedive when the heroine suffers a mental breakdown with depression.

Here're a few things I'd like to clarify:

(1) I understand how sucky and painful it is for a person to suffer depression and become mentally ill.

(2) I understand how depressing it is to lose the scholarship you had dreamed of for the longest of time and realize that you are in fact not as special and extraordinary as you had always believed yourself to be.

(3) I understand how depressing and suppressing it is for young women of the 1950s to have no way out aside from getting married, having kids and being housewives.

(4) I do feel sorry that the main character embarrassed herself in New York when she was surrounded by people from the NY fashion scene and she didn't have a clue about how she was supposed to behave around people from the well respected circles. No one should be humiliated like this.

(5) I do feel bad that the MC was later assaulted and beat by a guy, it's a horrible experience. But strangely enough, the MC seemed to burst this experience aside without further mention, whilst she kept moaning and whining about minor things.

Still all the great writing and my understanding cannot cover for the insufferable main character, her constant whining and moaning, her complaining about everything and everyone around her.

If The Bell Jar is a Young Adult novel, I would have long called the MC out on being such an ungrateful spoiled brat. My stomach was turning over and over with distaste when I read that the Mc's mother single-handedly raised her daughter after her husband passing away, still the MC hated her mother. Nothing the mother did and said could please her, NOTHING.

Let's give you one more example:

The MC's mother went to the asylum to visit her daughter, she brought her roses because it was her birthday; the mother kept begging her daughter to tell her what she had done so wrong in her childhood which caused her to end up in an asylum. The MC's reaction to this is: "I hate her."

Bitch, please.

I'm not saying the MC's mother is the Perfect Mom, she had her own shortcoming and she doesn't seem to understand what's going on in her daughter's mind. But hey, if you had to insist on hating your mother so much, at least give me some reasons, some explanation, some examples to see why your hatred is justified. Damn it!

Not to mention said MC also thought poorly of her female companies/friends and her suitor. In her eyes, those who were in the same age group with her were all boring, shallow, stupid and inferior than her, and God forbid that those girls she met in New York be richer and more worldly than her! It's just unacceptable!

Don't get me wrong, many of these girls are in fact vain and unlikable, but it doesn't look like they are all out to get the MC's blood. For God's sake!

The great writing also cannot cover for the author's fault in engaging her main character with the readers. As beautiful the writing is and as realistic, vividly written and interesting the story (especially the MC's job in New York and the vanity of the NY fashion scene) is, I still cannot overlook the lack of feeling in the writing and the lack of reasons and explanation beyond characters' personalities and actions. For example, can we manage to see the reason why the MC hated her mother so very much? Nap.

I do think it's a painfully honest and realistically, poetically written book, the feeling of pain, emptiness and alienation is beautifully expressed through the writing; and I suspect something has been lost in translation (I read the Chinese version of the book), but in the end I'm still disappointed, I especially don't enjoy how the story goes once the MC got a mental breakdown, after the breakdown, The Bell Jar loses much of its charm in my eyes and things get very, very sandy and boring. What a pity.

Plus I honestly don't feel very sympathetic after finished reading the MC's story. Her story to me is more like a story about a girl who thinks she's SO SPECIAL because she's such a straight-A ideal student and she's so much SMARTER and BETTER than anyone her age; but then she goes to New York and realizes she isn't so very special because there are larger fishes in the sea and she meets a bunch of girls who are all from much richer families than hers. Her self-confidence goes to the toilet and eventually she gets a mental breakdown because she's so unhappy with her life. Full stop.

It's not a YA, but sadly the story and its MC made me feel like I'm reading one.

"Me sentía muy tranquila y muy vacía, como debe de sentirse el ojo de un tornado que se mueve con ruido sordo en medio del estrépito circundante."

Hacía mucho tiempo que quería leer este libro y aunque pensé que iba a encontrarme con una novela que si bien tiene varios momentos depresivos, no los sentí tan profundos, sino que me pareció la historia de una mujer, Esther Greenwood, que simplemente no encaja en ninguna estructura, ni modelo, ni patrón característico de la sociedad y que limita todo su proceder en la vida sin poder salirse de esa campana de cristal a la que se refiere en distintos pasajes de la historia.
Es más, he leído un libro más desolador y depresivo que este, el cual recomiendo y que se llama “Huida a las tinieblas”, de Arthur Schnitzler, quien fuera gran amigo de Sigmund Freud.
De hecho, este último, gran lector, tomaba ejemplos de los libros de Schnitzler para sus escritos e investigaciones. La historia que narra Schnitzler en “Huida a las tinieblas” es acerca de Robert, un personaje muchísimo más traumado mentalmente, cuyos serios problemas emocionales lo llevarán en un tobogán al desastre total.
Volviendo a Esther, observo que su forma de vida es errática, un tanto abúlica y despreocupada. Todas las personas con las que se encuentra no la conforman, ni la ayudan ni la entienden. Especialmente su madre. La experiencia del viaje a New York le crea un vacío muy grande en el espíritu y el corazón y le produce en su vuelta a casa mayores dudas, cae en un laberinto y comienza a desdibujarse.
Lo que sí rescato como aspectos totalmente negativos y depresivos del libro son algunas frases que fui anotando.
Cito algunos ejemplos:
"Cada vez que trataba de concentrarme, mi mente se deslizaba como un patinador hacia un gran espacio vacío, y allí hacía piruetas, ausente."
"Sentí que me encogía hasta convertirme en un minúsculo punto negro pegado a aquellas mantas rojas y negras y a aquellos paneles de madera de pino. Me sentía como un agujero en el suelo."
"Yo sentí que me fundía en las sombras como el negativo de una persona a quien nunca en mi vida hubiese visto."
"Si uno no espera nada de alguien, nunca de siente desilusionado."
Es imposible dudar que la cuestión autobiográfica de la autora irrumpe de lleno en el personaje, sobre todo en el aspecto de las tendencias suicidas con la salvedad de que en ambos casos, los destinos parecen ser distintos.
Si tuviera que agregarle una banda de sonido a este libro, sería la música del disco “Closer”, del grupo Joy Division, con sus frías y sintéticas líneas de bajo.
Creo que la voz del también suicida Ian Curtis, cantando el lastimero “Love will tear us apart” sería el tema principal del sountrack.
El día que Sylvia Plath se suicidó, luego de dejarle el desayuno a sus hijos y una nota a su marido, el también escritor Ted Hughes, culminando abruptamente su vida desequilibrada, se asemeja en demasía al personaje de Esther.
Me da la sensación que este libro le sirvió a Plath como una gran preparación psicológica para ese terrible paso que dio allá por febrero de 1963, al suicidarse introduciendo su cabeza dentro del horno de su cocina.
Quedaron sus poemas, sus libros para niños, sus otras novelas, sus diarios y cartas y este libro como prueba premonitoria del trágico final y a la vez, de su entrada al recuerdo de tantos lectores que aún hoy siguen leyendo este libro tan extraño como cautivador.

no <3

I dare you to read this and not get depressed