“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”
When I first read The Bell Jar, I didn’t know much about Sylvia Plath. I knew she was a poet and that she had killed herself. I knew she was supposed to be a good writer and that The Bell Jar was her only novel. Some friends at the time went on and on about how her book really spoke to them, but after reading it I didn’t feel that connection. In other words, I liked it but I take anything away from it. Now, many years later, I’m reading The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath and reacquainting myself with this amazing, talented writer, and I feel like I might love her, just a little. So I’m going to reread The Bell Jar. It just feels like the right time. Now I have to choose which edition of the book I like best and get myself a copy so it can live on my bookshelf next to her journals, where it belongs.