sylvia plath
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Written in Chalk: What It Means to Be Crazy
As truth becomes more elusive, as fact blends with fiction, we ought to take notice of how we categorize people, as categorization seems to be married to suppression, to disenfranchisement.
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Going Beneath the Scarred Exterior in She May Be a Saint
Nichols wants us to know that, like every woman scorned, whether by an individual or by society, her maenad was initially innocent and loving. Beneath a scarred exterior, that innocent still resides.
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The Sunday Rumpus Interview: Jericho Parms
What is lost still has substance, is malleable, can take on new impressions, and be molded again to our experience, often resulting in the most lasting force that determines how we see the world.
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In Which Her Name Does Not Disappear
As I take up the task of reading and rereading these often prophetic poems, much becomes clear to me simply from the visible letters on the page—and yet I sense, too, that I cannot refuse an interpretation of what is…
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Barbizon Revisited
For Lit Hub, Nathan Hill takes us through the history of the Barbizon Hotel, recounting its role as an incubator for young women writers of the mid-20th century and as a landmark for those same writers to touch upon and…
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Belles of the Box Office
The multifaceted Kirsten Dunst is going to direct a new film version of Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, and the lovely Dakota Fanning is set to star in it, the Guardian reports. “Dunst has co-written the film with Nellie Kim,…
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Learning from Sylvia Plath’s Thesis
I kept Plath’s “Magic Mirror” close by as I wrote my own thesis. This knowledge that someone else—a literary titan who had seen me through my own breakdown—had attempted a similar project, using a proxy form to interrogate a personal…
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The Sunday Rumpus Essay: How To Make Sure Your Writing Is Forgotten
Do you really want to have to listen from the grave as students discuss your themes and scholars analyze your syntax and trace your influence?
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February 25th, 1956
… met, by the way, a brilliant ex-Cambridge poet at the wild St. Botolph’s Review party last week; will probably never see him again… but wrote my best poem about him afterwards—the only man I’ve met yet here who’d be…
