By Lizzy Barthelemy “I blissfully succumbed to the whirling blackness that I honestly believed was eternal oblivion.”

Life  Born in 1932 to middle class parents in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts  Published her first poem in the Boston Herald's children's section at 8 years old  She won a scholarship to Smith College in 1950  Deeply depressed and tried committing suicide in 1953 after receiving electroconvulsive therapy  Spent about 6 months in a psychiatric hospital  Obtained a Fulbright scholarship to Newnham College in Cambridge, England  Committed suicide in 1963 by sticking her head in her oven

Family  Her mother, Aurelia Schober Plath, was a first-generation American of Austrian descent and a teacher  Plath's father was an entomologist and a professor of biology and German at Boston University, but he passed away from diabetes complications in 1940 when Sylvia was only 8  Married Ted Hughes in 1956 then divorced in 1962  Gave birth to Frieda and Nicholas Hughes in 1960 and 1962

Interesting FactsInteresting Facts  In the movie 10 Things I Hate About You, Julia Stiles is reading Sylvia Plath’s book “The Bell Jar”

Interesting Facts (cont.)Interesting Facts (cont.)  Only Colossus was published while she was alive  She was the first poet to win a Pulitzer Prize after death ( Collected Poems)  At twelve, her IQ was recorded at around 160  She was encouraged by her mother to journal details of her everyday life  She left a note for her neighbor to call the doctor when he would find her with her head in the oven

Poetic StylePoetic Style  Considered to be "at once confessional, lyrical, and symbolic”  Unique uses of rhythm, meter, and characterization  Often uses doubling (ex. "She comes and goes." to She "comes." She "goes.”)  Graphic person and nature-based imagery

Themes  Prevailing themes of feminist criticism  Often depressing and sad due to the death of her father when she was 8  Her poems were often called “madness” and she was called “crazy”  Often wrote about death, redemption and resurrection

“Mirror” I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful‚ The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

“Poppies in July”“Poppies in July” Little poppies, little hell flames, Do you do no harm? You flicker. I cannot touch you. I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns And it exhausts me to watch you Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth. A mouth just bloodied. Little bloody skirts! There are fumes I cannot touch. Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules? If I could bleed, or sleep! If my mouth could marry a hurt like that! Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule, Dulling and stilling. But colorless. Colorless.

“Daddy”

“Daddy”