Sylvia Plath

1
Sylvia Plath

• Ellen Largenton
• Period 7
• 1932-1963

2
Sylvias Early Life

• Sylvia was born on October 27, 1932 in Newton,
  Massachusetts to her Emil Otto and Aurelia Plath.
  Since before Sylvia had been born her father was
  a very ill man. He suffered from constant
  infections and eventually developed lung cancer.
  When Sylvia was only eight-years-old her father
  gave into to lung cancer leaving her, her mother,
  and her young brother Warren. Sylvias mother
  decided to pack up and more to Wellesley, Mass
  where Sylvia attended school. Sylvia sailed
  through high school and received a scholarship to
  Smith Collage. There Sylvia worked on her
  writing career eventually getting her story
  Sunday at the Mintons published in a New York
  magazine, the Mademoiselle. Sylvia was asked to
  become a guest editor for the magazine for one
  month but these happy times would soon leave.

3
Sylvias Rough Times

• Sylvia would return to school after spending a
  month in New York but things wouldnt be easy.
  Sylvia became extremely depressed, she would go
  five days without sleep finally when her mother
  noticed cuts on her body she sent Sylvia to a
  psychiatrist. Sylvia was diagnosed with sever
  depression and started her road to recovery.
  Sylvia soon returned to college and before she
  graduated took a trip to Europe in hopes to meat
  new friends and see new things. There Sylvia
  recovered from writers block and wrote eight
  poems in eight days. Sylvia also met a young
  poet by the name of Ted Hughes. Sylvia soon
  married Ted in a small church in London. Ted
  and Sylvia returned home to Cambridge, Mass
  together where they lived on a small flat.
  Sylvia and Ted had two children Frieda and
  Nicholas. Along with children Sylvia immediately
  had to sacrifice a lot. She gave up writing so
  she could type and retype Teds poems for
  magazines Ted would gain publication. Finally
  Ted published his first books all because of the
  efforts made by his young wife.

4
Sylvia Moves On

• Sylvia had finally had enough of her husbands
  behavior. Sylvia had sacrificed her career so
  her husband would gain acclaim and she never once
  received any appreciation from her husband.
  Sylvia and Teds relationship began to crumble.
  Ted became abusive even once trying to strangle
  Sylvia. Finally Sylvia had enough and asked Ted
  to leave. Sylvia and her two young children
  moved to London where she lived on a small flat.
  There Sylvia once again faced depression and
  several suicide attempts. However while Sylvia
  was fighting with herself she was writing.
  Though Sylvia was able to write it wasnt enough.
  When Sylvia had learned of her husbands affair
  she sank into a deep hole she couldnt dig
  herself out of.

5
An End To Sylvias Short Life

• After a very cold winter in London Sylvia was
  trying to recover from her depression but she
  just couldnt. In January of 1963, Sylvia was
  home with her two children. After leaving some
  milk and bread in their room and opening the
  window she sealed the door with towels and tape.
  Sylvia then proceeded to the kitchen were she
  sealed herself in. Once she was settled in the
  kitchen Sylvia opened the door of her gas stove
  and kneeled before it. She then turned on the
  gas, Sylvia ha killed herself by carbon monoxide
  poisoning. Sylvia was discovered that day by a
  nurse who was helping her take care of herself
  and her children. Sylvias painstakingly executed
  her suicide and left behind two young children
  and her poetic work that was never really noticed
  until after her death.

6
After Death

• Sylvias success had come in death. Once
  Sylvias work was discovered she gained
  admiration and recognition as a brilliant young
  poet. Her works were collect and published and
  her children where sent to live with their
  grandmother while Ted still lived out his love
  affair. Sylvia paid the ultimate cost to be
  seen, se paid with her life but in many works she
  had written she describes death as the ultimate
  gift.
• 1932 1964

7
Works Cinderella

• The prince leans to the girl in scarlet
  heels,Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a
  fanOf silver as the rondo slows now reelsBegin
  on tilted violins to span
• The whole revolving tall glass palace hallWhere
  guests slide gliding into light like wineRose
  candles flicker on the lilac wallReflecting in a
  million flagons' shine,
• And glided couples all in whirling tranceFollow
  holiday revel begun long since,Until near twelve
  the strange girl all at onceGuilt-stricken
  halts, pales, clings to the prince
• As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk She
  hears the caustic ticking of the clock.

8
Works Doomsday

• The idiot bird leaps out and drunken leansAtop
  the broken universal clockThe hour is crowed in
  lunatic thirteens.Out painted stages fall apart
  by scenesWhile all the actors halt in mortal
  shockThe idiot bird leaps out and drunken
  leans.
• Streets crack through in havoc-split ravinesAs
  the doomstruck city crumbles block by blockThe
  hour is crowed in lunatic thirteens.
• Fractured glass flies down in smithereensOur
  lucky relics have been put in hockThe idiot
  bird leaps out and drunken leans.
• The monkey's wrench has blasted all machinesWe
  never thought to hear the holy cockThe hour is
  crowed in lunatic thirteens.
• Too late to ask if end was worth the means,Too
  late to calculate the toppling stockThe idiot
  bird leaps out and drunken leans,The hour is
  crowed in lunatic thirteens.

9
Works Mirror

• I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
  What ever you 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 a 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.

10
Works Cited

• http//www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/
• http//www.valkyrieshaunt.com/plath/sylviaplath.ht
  ml
• http//www.valkyrieshaunt.com/plath/sylviaplath.ht
  ml