'an appearance'
Sylvia Sundays v. 3
Welcome to Sylvia Sundays, a series for paid subscribers! Every Sunday, I’m featuring an analysis of a poem by the 20th century poet Sylvia Plath. While some of the poems are dark and haunting (per her reputation), many of them are tender and deeply moving.
All of her poems have the amazing gift of super-charging the world around us into a place with the potential for magic, awe, delight, terror, and incredible mystery. I hope you contribute your own thoughts in the comments - thank you so much for being here!
If you are interested in reading more of my writing on Sylvia Plath, consider subscribing to my sister publication: Sylvia's Disquieting Muses
Today I’m featuring a poem that directly puts the artistic interior self in conflict with the outer self that is defined by rote experiences and machine-like efficiency. Plath has a way of making everyday objects seem uncanny - things are not what they seem. Even something like a sewing needle becomes threatening, even violent. But there is a desperate cry underneath all the domestic chores - “O heart, such disorganization!”
This poem asks us to grapple with a serious question - “is this love then?” as we try to find the authentic self buried underneath the relentlessness of expectation. What do we make of a line like “the smile of iceboxes annihilates me?” Let’s read the poem and then I’ll share my analysis.