Esther Greenwood is brilliant, beautiful, enormously talented, and successful, but slowly going under—maybe for the last time. In her acclaimed and enduring masterwork, Sylvia Plath brilliantly draws the reader into Esther's breakdown with such intensity that her insanity becomes palpably real, even rational—as accessible an experience as going to the movies. A deep penetration into the darkest and most harrowing corners of the human psyche, The Bell Jar is an extraordinary accomplishment and a haunting American classic.
To this day, Sylvia Plath's writings continue to inspire and provoke. Her only published novel, The Bell Jar, remains a classic of American literature, and The Colossus (1960), Ariel (1965), Crossing the Water (1971), Winter Trees (1971), and The Collected Poems (1981) have placed her among this century's essential American poets.
Sylvia Plath was born on October 27, 1932, the first child of Aurelia and Otto Plath. When Sylvia was eight years old, her father died--an event that would haunt her remaining years--and the family moved to the college town of Wellesley. By high school, Plath's talents were firmly established; in fact, her first published poem had appeared when she was eight. In 1950, she entered Smith College, where she excelled academically and continued to write; and in 1951 she won Mademoiselle magazine's fiction contest. Her experiences during the summer of 1953--as a guest editor at Mademoiselle in New York City and in deepening depression back home--provided the basis for The Bell Jar. Near that summer's end, Plath nearly succeeded in killing herself. After therapy and electroshock, however, she resumed her academic and literary endeavors. Plath graduated from Smith in 1955 and, as a Fulbright Scholar, entered Newnham College, in Cambridge, England, where she met the British poet, Ted Hughes. They were married a year later. After a two-year tenure on the Smith College faculty and a brief stint in Boston, Plath and Hughes returned to England, where their two children were born.
Plath had been successful in placing poems in several prestigious magazines, but suffered repeated rejection in her attempts to place a first book. The Colossus appeared in England, however, in the fall of 1960, and the publisher, William Heinemann, also bought her first novel. By June 1962, she had begun the poems that eventually appeared in Ariel. Later that year, separated from Hughes, Plath immersed herself in caring for her children, completing The Bell Jar, and writing poems at a breathtaking pace.
A few days before Christmas 1962, she moved with the children to a London flat. By the time The Bell Jar was published under the pseudonym Victoria Lucas, in early 1963, she was in desperate circumstances. Her marriage was over, she and her children were ill, and the winter was the coldest in a century. Early on the morning of February 11, Plath turned on the cooking gas and killed herself.
Plath was posthumously awarded a Pulitzer Prize in 1982 for her Collected Poems.
1。 “我合上眼眸,世界倒地死去; 我抬起眼帘,一切重获新生。” 这真的不像人写的诗,所以我将它的全文找出来: Mad Girl's Love Song "I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) Th...
评分如果Slyvia Plath生于如今的网络时代,不知道她还会不会成为诗人。网络时代让每个人都有成为诗人、小说家的可能,尽管这是一个诗意越来越少的时代,个人经验也因为过度泛滥而贬值。 每个人都有自己的恐惧、莫名的梦、生活中的小骄傲小沮丧。网络提供了诉说和分享的平台,也就是...
评分关于《钟罩》的一点碎碎念 1 最让人佩服的是她恰到好处的控制力:在敏锐的超凡的感受力和日常庸俗思维轨道之间的平衡。她理解着这个世界(用自己的方式),批评、挖苦它和她/他们(以那时的她的身份,埃丝特的身份),也尽力展示自己的世界——以大多数人可以理解的眼光来回...
评分如果Slyvia Plath生于如今的网络时代,不知道她还会不会成为诗人。网络时代让每个人都有成为诗人、小说家的可能,尽管这是一个诗意越来越少的时代,个人经验也因为过度泛滥而贬值。 每个人都有自己的恐惧、莫名的梦、生活中的小骄傲小沮丧。网络提供了诉说和分享的平台,也就是...
评分1。 “我合上眼眸,世界倒地死去; 我抬起眼帘,一切重获新生。” 这真的不像人写的诗,所以我将它的全文找出来: Mad Girl's Love Song "I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) Th...
阅读此书的过程,更像是一次对时代背景下女性生存困境的深度考察。作者构建的世界观,充斥着一种隐性的、无处不在的规训感,社会对于“完美女性”的定义像一张无形的网,紧紧勒住了每一个试图挣脱束缚的个体。主人公的经历,无疑是对这种规范发出的最无声也最尖锐的反抗。我注意到,书中对不同阶层、不同职业女性的描摹,都带着一种讽刺的精致,她们或许在外人看来光鲜亮丽,但内里都承载着一套复杂而沉重的生存哲学。这种笔触的冷峻与犀利,使得整部作品的批判性力量得到了极大的提升,它没有采取激烈的口号式控诉,而是通过主人公细腻且日益偏执的内心独白,将结构性的压迫感不动声色地传递给读者。每一次对外界礼仪和期待的顺从,都伴随着内心对自我价值的进一步损耗,这种内在消耗的描绘,极其真实且令人心痛。它迫使我思考,在那些看似进步的表象之下,我们是否仍然在沿用着旧有的框架来衡量和定义“成功”或“正常”。
评分这本书的语言风格,有一种令人上瘾的、略带病态的幽默感。它并非那种让人捧腹大笑的喜剧,而是一种建立在深刻洞察和自我解嘲之上的黑色幽默。主人公观察世界的目光是挑剔的、充满嘲讽的,她用一种近乎超然的视角来审视自己和周遭的荒谬,这种疏离感反而成了她保护自己免于彻底崩溃的最后一道屏障。我发现自己常常会因为某一句对白或者对某个场景的精准刻画而会心一笑,但笑声的背后往往是更深层次的悲凉。这种高智商的“病态清醒”,使得角色具有了极强的复杂性,她既是受害者,也在某种程度上成为了自己困境的参与者和推手。这种叙事上的张力,让人物形象立体而真实,而不是一个扁平的、符号化的“病人”。它展示了心灵是如何在极端压力下,发展出一种独特的、自洽的逻辑体系来应对外界的混乱。
评分这本书的文字像一首阴郁而又迷人的诗歌,它不仅仅是在讲述一个故事,更像是在剖析一种灵魂深处的挣扎与迷失。初读时,我被那种近乎刺骨的清醒感所震撼,作者用极其精准且富有穿透力的笔触描绘了主人公在社会期望与内心真实自我之间的剧烈拉扯。那种感觉,就像是身处一个华丽却布满裂痕的玻璃罩中,外界的一切喧嚣和色彩都变得遥远而失真,而自己却被困在内部,无望地观察着时间的流逝和自我状态的恶化。叙事节奏的把握非常巧妙,时而急促如风暴来临前的压抑,时而缓慢得如同凝固的琥珀,将那种无力感和被时间遗弃的恐慌层层堆叠起来。我尤其欣赏作者对细节的捕捉,那些看似微不足道的日常场景,在特定的心境下被赋予了沉重的象征意义,仿佛每一个物件、每一句对话都暗藏着某种只有主人公能懂的密码或陷阱。这种阅读体验是沉浸式的,需要读者放下一切预设的期待,完全潜入那个充满矛盾、渴望自由却又被恐惧牢牢锁住的精神世界。读完后,那种挥之不去的怅然若失感,让人忍不住反思自己生活中那些被忽视的微小“裂痕”。
评分从结构上看,这部作品的叙事如同某种迷宫,充满了回溯、岔路和封闭的循环,精准地映射了人物精神状态的波动。故事的推进并非线性的,而是跟随主人公情绪的潮起潮落而进行,这要求读者必须保持高度的专注,去跟随那些看似不连贯的思绪碎片,才能最终拼凑出全景。特别是当故事进入到后半段,那种近乎失控的、碎片化的叙述方式,将读者一同拖入了那种被时间感和现实感抛弃的境地。我能真切地感受到那种“正在发生”的紧迫感和混乱感,仿佛自己也一同在边缘徘徊,分不清什么是梦境,什么是真实。这种实验性的结构安排,极大地增强了文本的艺术感染力,它超越了传统小说的范畴,更像是一种意识流的艺术实践,证明了文学形式可以服务于最深层的心理挖掘。
评分这本书留给我的最深刻印象,是关于“选择”与“无能为力”的辩证关系。主人公拥有天赋、拥有机会,但她仿佛被某种命运的惯性所裹挟,每一次试图做出“正确”的选择,都会导向意想不到的困境。它探讨了一个核心议题:当个体的内在价值体系与外部世界设定的成功标准发生根本性冲突时,个体应该如何存活?书中对于医疗体制、精神疾病的描写,带着一种冷峻的距离感,仿佛在揭示:即便是被给予帮助,如果社会不理解你挣扎的根源,那帮助也只是暂时的敷衍。我读出了那种对“被治愈”的怀疑,对被简化为“病症”的抗拒。最终,读者似乎被留在了这样一个开放性的结局中:真正的救赎,或许并非来自外部的干预,而是在于能否在彻底崩溃之后,以一种全新的、可能与主流格格不入的方式,重新构建生活的意义。这本书的后劲很强,它像一颗低频振动的石子,沉在心底,久久不散。
评分unexpectedly hilarious and upbeat comming from Plath," A time of darkness, despair, disillusion-so black only as the inferno of the human mind can be-symbolic death, and numb shock- then the painful agony of slow rebirth and psychic regeneration"--remind me of that poem of hers: Lady Lazarus.
评分unexpectedly hilarious and upbeat comming from Plath," A time of darkness, despair, disillusion-so black only as the inferno of the human mind can be-symbolic death, and numb shock- then the painful agony of slow rebirth and psychic regeneration"--remind me of that poem of hers: Lady Lazarus.
评分"To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream."
评分unexpectedly hilarious and upbeat comming from Plath," A time of darkness, despair, disillusion-so black only as the inferno of the human mind can be-symbolic death, and numb shock- then the painful agony of slow rebirth and psychic regeneration"--remind me of that poem of hers: Lady Lazarus.
评分"To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream."
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