Review of 'The unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath, 1950-1962' on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
As journals go, this is a very open one; even so, this version, erupted slightly before Ted Hughes' death in 1998, does not contain much after 1961, which is sad. Even if Hughes destroyed those journals, this book is a genuine treasury.
These journals contain what Plath wrote from 1950 to 1962. As such, it contains notes on her growing up; dating, life, death, school-work, her future, travelling, and very notably her success as a poet, her mood-swings and what struck me the most, her innermost thoughts on a variety of subjects.
Plath was seldom vulgar in her journals. Neither does she seem anything other than honest.
What she writes on love is intricate and vulnerable, especially when dating, from 1950 to the moment when she meets Hughes and later marries him.
Their togetherness and love seems so strong, especially her devotion to him, which does sadly, not in the …
As journals go, this is a very open one; even so, this version, erupted slightly before Ted Hughes' death in 1998, does not contain much after 1961, which is sad. Even if Hughes destroyed those journals, this book is a genuine treasury.
These journals contain what Plath wrote from 1950 to 1962. As such, it contains notes on her growing up; dating, life, death, school-work, her future, travelling, and very notably her success as a poet, her mood-swings and what struck me the most, her innermost thoughts on a variety of subjects.
Plath was seldom vulgar in her journals. Neither does she seem anything other than honest.
What she writes on love is intricate and vulnerable, especially when dating, from 1950 to the moment when she meets Hughes and later marries him.
Their togetherness and love seems so strong, especially her devotion to him, which does sadly, not in the slightest, explain most of her poems (e.g. "The Jailor") in the unabridged version of "Ariel", her last batch of poems, previously abridged by Hughes.
This is genuinely a real experience and is recommendable to everybody. It is little wonder that Plath liked J.D. Salinger, adored Virginia Woolf and loved James Joyce. Read this and do yourself a favour.
I've cobbled up samples from the book here.
