| For those of you who don't know who Sylvia Plath was, I'm going to write up a short biography or something soon. In the mean time, here's my little (hopefully, expanding) page about her...I love her poetry, I love her writing. It touches something deep inside me, where I keep all my pain from summers past, it stirs it into recognition. I think that this is something we all have inside of us, our own little monsters, that we protect with jealous minds, our own darknesses...and I feel as though she somehow knew mine. I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense, considering that she died long before I was born, but perhaps then it is just that she, like many writers, had a monster too...and it lived in her, until she lived in it, until it grew too big and she dissapeared entirely into it. When I read her poems, I know that this is true, and I also know mine for what it is. |
