The Bell Jar: The Illustrated Edition

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i did not know that if you're mentally ill you're allowed to be mean and annoying. i wish i had done things differently. La novela o yo hemos, en cierta manera, fracasado en el intento. O bien ella no ha logrado transmitirme el horror de ese fondo del hoyo que es una depresión o yo no he sido capaz de concebir la profunda desesperación que, pienso, debe sentir la protagonista dentro de esa campana que la envuelve y que le impide relacionarse y encontrar su sitio en ese mundo de hombres en el que la mujer sigue sujeta a roles y comportamientos establecidos por ellos. Ongoing Covid restrictions, reduced air and freight capacity, high volumes and winter weather conditions are all impacting transportation and local delivery across the globe. Reality casts a funereal pall over the proceedings, yet The Bell Jar opens jauntily enough. “It was a queer, sultry summer,” first-person narrator Esther Greenwood announces in the novel’s arresting first line, “the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs.” Esther, we soon learn, is in New York City, with a prestigious internship at a fashion magazine. There is a certain breeziness in the early going, so that it is not hard to conjure up an image from, say, The Devil Wears Prada: a tale of a young woman on the make, in the city that never sleeps. that fig paragraph is probably one of the best passages on what it is to be a mentally ill young woman ever brought into this world

The Bell Jar reads like a very interesting diary. It feels real – as though you are experiencing the story. Coinvolgerla tanto da ricorrere a uno pseudonimo, il nom de plume di Victoria Lucas, tanto era forte l’autobiografismo di queste pagine: al punto che la madre ne ostacolò la pubblicazione negli States riuscendo a postporla fino al 1971. It does not give too much away to say that The Bell Jar is about Esther’s declining mental health. The strength of The Bell Jar, though, is partially derived from the fact that Esther, narrating in the first-person, never comes out and says, “then I went crazy.” Instead, Plath – through Esther – provides a precise, detailed, chilling presentation of Esther’s loss of sanity by describing everything with matter-of-factness. Her psychotic “breaks” are not identified as such. Rather, Esther depicts both the real and the unreal in the exact same manner, so that there is a blurring between the two. Uno di quei libri che mi è rimasto appiccicato – storia, temi, stile, mi sono entrati dentro – un’esperienza di lettura in qualche modo anche dolorosa - un maledetto colloso processo di fusione - difficile recuperare la giusta distanza, mettere insieme una riflessione... I had a vision of the celestially white kitchens on Ladies’ Day stretching into infinity. I saw avocado pear after avocado pear being stuffed with crabmeat and mayonnaise and photographed under brilliant lights. I saw the delicate, pink-mottled claw-meat poking seductively through its blanket of mayonnaise and the bland, yellow pear cup with its rim of alligator-green cradling the whole mess.this is often, as it was in my case, assigned reading for teenage girls, the people most likely to be willing to undergo the kind of self-centering it would take to think most of what's depicted in this book is an okay or acceptable way to be. As we move forward, however, Esther – who proves an endearing, self-deprecating narrator – struggles with the glitz and glam that others so eagerly seek. Her time in New York is not seamless, and several incidents, ranging from the amusing (there are some surprisingly funny moments) to the terrifying, starts to degrade Esther’s mental condition. The Bell Jar centers on Esther Greenwood, a bright college student in 1953. She wins a trip to New York where she encounters an entirely new set of experiences and describes the other women as almost an entirely new species.

bottom line: we all have an unpopular opinion, right? a beloved book we hate? let me have this one in peace. Plath fictionalized nearly all of these experiences in The Bell Jar, which is narrated by Esther Greenwood, a summer intern at Ladies’ Day magazine and an aspiring writer who attempts suicide after suffering a breakdown. Plath based Esther loosely on herself: both were raised by a widowed mother in Massachusetts; both were star writers at a women’s college; both dated an imperious medical student; both suffered breakdowns, attempted suicide and recovered at an upscale mental hospital outside Boston. I realise that we are living in the times where belief and feelings are considered much more important than science and facts, where democratic voting is wrong and illegal if the 'wrong party' (US) or Brexit or Scottish Independence (UK) don't go the way that people want. And that any dissension results in deplatforming, cancelling or immense campaigns of hatred against academic and public figures. Is this the right way to go? No dissension, no debate, facts are wrong if they don't fit feelings, and cultural icons for one movement or another can do no wrong?The Bell Jar’ by Victoria Lucas was not a commercial success and seemed almost certain to disappear. In the months leading up to the publication of ‘The Bell Jar’ and her death Plath had a burst of creativity and wrote a large of number of poems in a confessional style that was both new for her and highly original. When these poems were posthumously published as the collection ‘Ariel’ in 1965 they caused a sensation and after her death Plath became a famous poet.

Silvia Plath è stata prima di tutto e soprattutto dedita alla poesia: è con quest’arte che è rimasta nella storia. Questo è il suo unico romanzo, l’unica opera in prosa (diari a parte).

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Anche se non è difficile capire che per le lettrici Esther possa aver significato quello che Holden ha significato per i lettori. So I told myself I was reading too much into it and kept on reading, and by the 4th comment I was starting to lose it. I uttered 'nothing new’ many times while reading it but considering it as a book written 50 years ago which still resonated at such an inexplicable level with me is fascinating to think of. Should I mourn at the repeated instances of histories which repeat themselves or cheer about the knowledge that there lived a girl who had a talent of telling something on behalf of most of us? I’m still contemplating about those questions but I guess they’ll lose their significance in time to come and only magical essence of Sylvia’s words shall remain with me.

In the original manuscript the main character was called Victoria Lucas and at her publisher’s suggestion this was changed to Esther Greenwood. A novel about a character called Victoria Lucas published under the pen name Victoria Lucas seemed close to flat out stating that the novel was autobiographical. We do know that despite her protestations Plath was worried that the book might hurt her family and friends, hence her decision to publish under a pen name.The Bell Jar did not make me cry but I wish it did. What I'm left with now is a deep sense of unhappiness that I don't think tears can fix. 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. The similarities between Plath and Esther were so strong that Plath’s London publisher, Heinemann, warned her about potential libel issues. (As it turned out, they were correct. Jane Anderson, a woman who had known Plath at McLean, argued that the novel contained an unflattering portrait of her and sued the Plath Estate for libel in the 1980s.) Plath dismissed their concerns, but published the novel under a pseudonym, Victoria Lucas. The Bell Jar is an ambitious work, as I read before, but it’s not a perfect novel. There are some fissures that should prevent me from giving it a 5-star rating. Nevertheless, I changed my first rating from four to five stars; it is on my “favorites” shelf, another favorite axe, and it has rekindled my feelings for Plath. I am grateful for the story she shared. And for the fate she forged for her character. I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am. Despite the darkness in which this book is immersed, a sense of hope still lingers even after finishing this somber journey. Fig trees are on solid ground, awaiting for courage, a leap of faith, life-changing decisions – meaning, beauty, uniqueness. The silence, a limpid layer which allows to admire the now splendid azure sky, is no longer an ominous sign. As a small stone is thrown into a pond, causing violent ripples that soon vanish while the former serenity is restored, such silence is interrupted briefly by the sound of glass breaking. In the midst of too much consciousness, those small shivers are a vital part of the ritual for being born twice—patched, retreaded and approved for the road. Beyond that, Plath’s Esther is blisteringly honest, and not just about matters of mental health. For instance, there is a scene where Esther loses her virginity that is told with a candor that is surprising today, not to mention the date when it was first published.