The Bell Jar
Ratings812
Average rating3.9
like most of Plath's work i love it, i relate to it but find the racist comments to bring the work and her as a person down.
Apparently I read this in AP LIT and forgot so I gave it another shot and I still had no idea what was going on LMAO
Die erste Hälfte des Buches beschreibt einfach nur Esthers Leben auf eine witzige Art und Weise. Der Teil liest sich schon sehr gut und ist auch spannend, aber der zweite Teil nahm mich emotional wirklich mit. Sylvia Plath beschreibt dort ihren Verfall in dir Depression und berichtet auch von ihren Selbstmordversuchen und ihrer Zeit im Asylum. Ihr Schreibstil bleibt aber weiterhin poetisch und witzig, obwohl der Gegenstand ihrer Erzählung eher makaber ist.
Insbesondere die Tatsache, dass dieser Roman so nah an Sylvia Plath‘s eigenen Erlebnissen liegt, bringt einen zum Nachdenken.
so disappointed by all the praise for this book when it has a lot of racism in it
Underlying racist tone, othering queer relationships. Too personal to call it as a strong feminist work. Though I loved the writing-style and it will stay in my mind rent free, the whole book was a disappointment. I expected more from a writer whose poems I used to admire alot.
Alright, ladies and gentlemen, if there is a book you ought to read, ESPECIALLY if you are in your twenties...it is this one.
La Campana de Cristal relata la historia de Esther Greenwood, quien refleja la vida de la autora. Empezamos la novela descubriendo que Esther se ha ganado un concurso y pasara un mes en New York trabajando junto a otras ganadoras para una revista en los años 50. A medida que avanza su estadía conocemos los anhelos más profundos de la protagonista en cuanto a su futuro profesional y personal, y cómo estos se ven obstaculizados llegando a ser prácticamente objetivos inalcanzables dado su contexto social.
Frustrada regresa a su hogar en Massachussets, con nada claro en su cabeza, cansada de su vida aparentemente sin rumbo. No puede dormir, no puede comer, pero aun mas importante no puede escribir. Piensa que lo único relevante sobre si misma le ha sido arrebatado, que, sin la escritura, cuál sería su propósito en la sociedad sino ser un estorbo.
Es remitida a un psiquiatra y entre sus consultas empieza a tener alucinaciones derivadas de sus profundas desesperaciones. Duerme en el delirio y sueña con escapar, morir, liberarse.
Luego es enviada a un centro donde recibe un tratamiento de electrochoque que le causa gran dolor y decide no volver a hacerlo.
Después de varios intentos y planes fallidos de suicidio, decide robar un frasco de unas 50 píldoras y tomárselas en un lugar escondido del sótano, queriendo dar fin de una vez al sufrimiento. Es encontrada por su madre un par de días después aun con vida y hospitalizada para luego ser trasladada a un manicomio peculiar, un lugar más especializado, donde optan por métodos más ortodoxos.
Al principio no se notan mejorías en su estado de ánimo, continúa con planes calculados para lograr su propósito, se mantiene apática, pero al final no puede evitar su deseo por compañía. Una antigua amiga ingresa al centro y reconectan aun con Esther tratando de resistirse a cualquier tipo de avance.
Termina uniéndose a otras chicas en el mejor pabellón del lugar, donde se hospedan quienes se encuentran en las mejores condiciones y tienen mas libertades para salir a pasear. En su estancia aquí, Esther recuerda sus tiempos en la escuela y contempla las implicaciones de reinserción en la sociedad. Agradece las amistades que ha hecho a lo largo de su estadía, vuelve a sentir algo de esperanza en el Sol que la despierta cada mañana y espera poder retomar sus estudios, aun con todos los retos que le esperan.
Siente que la campana de cristal asciende y le da movilidad, deja entrar el oxígeno y ya no se ahoga con su propia respiración.
i was very surprised upon finishing this book. i was promised, thousands of times, a “deep exploration of mental illness”, a true centrepiece of the femcel genre. and yet i found little to no debt. were the bell jar and fig tree metaphors really that good? to me this was more a female version of catcher in the rye, if not a worse one (can't say for certain as i haven't revisited catcher since i was 14) with an obnoxious teenage narrator hanging about, acting childish and entitled. take a twelve year old girl's diary and you'll find more emotional depth than “the bell jar” has. if you want a good book about a woman suffering from mental illness i advise you to read “faces in the water” by janet frame instead. maybe if i'd read this in middle school i would have enjoyed it more.
Sylvia Plath is a mastermind of descriptive writing, especially when it comes to suicide and mental health. It shouldn't surprise me as she killed herself, but the way she describes Esthers depression and attempts is so ruthless. The entire book is meticulous in how it builds up to the end. There are some moments where I couldn't quite tell if what I was reading was happening in that moment of the book or if it was a flashback, and I think that helps tie into Esthers feelings of loneliness and numbness. I recently had the option to chose this book for my english class but I would've had to wait another month before finishing it and I just couldn't. The book just pulls you in and you don't want to look away because every little detail has a meaning in here. “I am, i am, i am.”
meh i didnt think it was bad i just didnt get it and probably had to high of expectations going in
3.5*
Quite promising at first. I can see the resemblance with Salinger's writing style, which I quite enjoyed, but then it got repetitive and nonsensical.
I started getting quite bored. Maybe if I was younger this would have hit me more. But I really just wanted to move on.
It's a good book.
Nevertheless a good book has its limits. First coming with its suddenness in introducing a mental illness, or maybe it's simply that detachment to modern society or upper class social events, which the latter is much relatable.
Okay, don't blame the victim here. Esther is all right to think that way. Or should she not? Shutting every possible outlet to something better? Have we not learnt that constraint choice is better than keeping your options open? Well, anyway. Never mind. Great talent lost. In battle of freedom and marriage. (As one opting for the first, well I wouldn't die yet)
I don't think Esther did have any sorts of recovery towards the end. But if you say that exchange a life for one is worth it then, well, I suppose this book serves its purpose.
✩✩✩✩
“To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself was a bad dream.”
Not much you can say about this one that hasn't already been said. Very well written.
The story was very convoluted, and triggering. What tied it together for me was the last chapter where real life events from Sylvia's life were told (as an extension of Esther's ending). This was so hard to read/listen to. I was horrified more than once.
I do understand however, that this shows the real and cruel aspects of depression, and something the author needed to get out of her system to able to move on.
Trigger warnings: Self-harm, suicide, blood mentions.
I saw someone say that the book is written in a style called “stream of consciousness” and maybe that's why it kept my attention because it wasn't too focused on one thing and often drifted.
Although it wasn't necessarily emotional, it's still very depressing mainly because of Plath's real life and the semi-autobiograpgical nature of the novel.
Got quite confused at the end but I think that's mainly because I sort of lost interest after she was admitted to the asylum and stopped reading it properly.
Though of course it must be said that Plath is such a brilliant mind and her poetic style is so beautiful to read.
I listened to the audiobook for this one. I think I would have enjoyed this a lot more had I been able to listen straight through. My main beef was the “chapters” were in such odd locations that it made it hard to set down and pick back up again.
4/5
“I wondered what terrible thing it was that I had done.”
“I remembered everything...Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind of snow, should numb and cover them. But they were part of me. They were my landscape.”
This was a great book with a great peek into mental illness with the perspective of the 1940s. There was a lot of fluff in my opinion that seemed pointless to the plot, but an amazing book nonetheless.