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A Critical Analysis of a Trio of Plath Poems. Ana Moreno Shelbie Wheeler. Born in Boston, Plath was the daughter of Aurelia Schober, a master’s student at Boston University. Her father, Otto Plath, was Aurelia professors and specialized in apiology.
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A Critical Analysis of a Trio of Plath Poems. Ana Moreno Shelbie Wheeler
Born in Boston, Plath was the daughter of Aurelia Schober, a master’s student at Boston University. Her father, Otto Plath, was Aurelia professors and specialized in apiology. At age 8, Otto Plath passed away due to complications from diabetes. Hughes leaves Plath in 1962 for AssiaGutmannWevill. It is during this separation ( or rather the winter following it) that Plath writes the poems that make it into her most famous collection of works, Ariel. A short mention of the poet Plath publishes TheBell Jar , an autobiographical novel in 1963; on February 11 of the same year, she committed suicide with the aide of her gas oven (after sending her downstairs neighbor a note advising him to call the doctor.) The death of her father greatly influenced Plath, but as things were, she was driven to success and left for Cambridge on a Fulbright scholarship, where she eventually meets Ted Hughes (another poet, and her future husband) She eventually returns home and studies under Robert Lowell. Plath gives birth to two children when she returns once more to England shortly thereafter. Frieda (1960) and Nicholas Hughes (1962) Unfortunately for Hughes, both women end up killing themselves, though Assia ends up killing her daughter as well.
Blackberrying The setting is laid out; blackberries along an alley, close to the shore. It’s very easy to feel Plath’s sense of isolation and despair. The repetition of such empty words highlight her view of the speaker’s whereabouts. There also comes a sense of severity with the line “I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood…” Notice the personification she uses with the blackberries. In a way, they deepen the sense that the speaker is alone, though this isn’t as desolate a feeling. Plath sets up an interesting affinity for the blackberries. It’s an odd kind of relationship we see unfold in the next stanzas. It’s also important to note her mention of “hooks” and the “sea, somewhere….heaving.” The only thing to come now is the sea. From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me, Slapping its phantom laundry in my face. These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt. I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me To the hills’ northern face, and the face is orange rock That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths Beating and beating at an intractable metal.
Blackberrying *chough* The setting starts taking a more detailed shape. (speaking of details, notice how detailed Plath’s observations are.) There’s a bit of repitition used in order to emphasize the fact that these choughs are the only noise (“voice”) to be heard. They’re also as dark as the berries. In this next stanza, the bought of negativity continues; the choughs are “in black” as opposed to just being (ties into mourning). They’re likened to “bits of burnt paper”, a bit aimless and ominous, as though they’re ashes from a long-dead fire. Overall, the mood of this stanza in connection with the first is still rather negative and mysterious, but the inclusion of the description of “the high, green meadows…glowing, as if lit from within” adds a sense of wonder and an air of ephemeral surrealism. The bush is so laden with large, ripe blackberries that both look like fat, fetid, flies and are also covered in flies. Intoxicated by the sweetness. Notice the word choice. “Honey-feast”, “milkbottle” Possible link? (Land of milk and honey?) Well, there’s another mention of a hook (consider it as both an actual hook in the sense that it pulls her, and a literal hook or bend.) in the alley and the mysterious sea.
Blackberrying Remember the care with which Plath described the blackberry bushes? Notice the word choice; it isn’t pleasant having the wind funnel at you, or to feel it “slapping” you in the face. It’s not pleasant at all. It’s the “last hook” that brings the speaker to the “face” of orange rock. (the face being both the actual location, as in a cliff/hill-face as well as the speaker’s own face looking out upon nothing.) There is a MAJOR SHIFT in tone in this last stanza. The wonder experienced in the blackberry alley is replaced with this harsh reality of salt. “These hills are too green and sweet…” MAIN POINT OF THIS STANZA: The idealic stroll through the blackberry alley is associated with nature; take note of the “sisterhood” associated with it. Even the flock of choughs is given an importance when compared to the sea. The introduction of this noisy, churning ocean is associated not only with the negative, but also with people. In the blackberry alley, there was “nobody” whereas the ocean is populated with “silversmiths”, “laundry”, and “white and pewter lights” (as opposed to the mystical glow earlier.) And again, the repetition of “nothing, nothing” All of this brings back the desolation felt in the first stanza, although the final couple of lines affirms that this sea brings negativity. “a din like silversmiths beating and beating…” There was quiet on the hills, and the sea brings as much noise as the ominous choughs back in line 10. (Though the choughs have an actual “voice” whereas the sound of ‘industrious silversmiths’ is basically pointless. ) The final stanza deals with the mortification of all that is real. That is, her perception of time and reality is distorted by the scene that unfolds after she turns the final hook;
The Mirror Prejudices. From the very start, it’s evident that the point of view is from a mirror. But notice there is barely any mention of its reflecting anything. The mirror “swallows”, “meditates”, “looks” It has a heart; the point is, this mirror is made to feel as human as possible using personification. This stanza is more a memory than anything; The mirror remembers looking upon this wall, and a blur of faces. Remember that in this stanza, the mirror is mentioning its objectivity towards what it’s reflecting.
The Mirror There is now a woman, too. Who, “each morning” looks at her reflection. There is a sense of loyalty from the reflecting-force, as it refers to “those liars” (those conditions under which you will always look different) “I see her back, and reflect it faithfully” But finally, it becomes evident that the woman does not like what she sees; she cries as she sees herself age. The drowning metaphor adds nicely to the emphasize Plath puts on the woman’s preoccupation with her looks. Notice all the mention of water; It reflects and remains mysterious and constant throughout the poem. Even the woman’s tears are water, playing its part with the reflective water of the lake. A shift to the present, where there is no mirror; only the reflection in a lake.
Yes, literally. Plath and Hughes made a baby. Notice that the crowd mentioned by the use of “Our” (in line 4) is not celebrating. They stand “blankly” Morning Song Shift in atmosphere and comparisons. At first, there is nothing but the birth, something that felt a bit harsh and real. Then a shift to natural comparisons. Here’s a fancy word: Synaesthesia -n. “The poetic description of a sense impression in terms of another sense” Basically, mixing sensations such as seeing the baby’s breath as flickering moths. As the baby was born, it’s first sensation besides birth was the slap to the footsoles. And with that first little cry, it became ceaselessly important. The baby arrives as a “new statue” in a “drafty museum” A museum is a very suitable metaphor for a large, echo-enhancing hospital. The speaker seems detached from her child, though not in a cruel way. She is more analytical, she sounds as though she’s at a loss for the proper words to encompass her feelings. Beautiful comparison in “All night, your moth-breath/flickers” The baby’s breath is portrayed as fragile and barely audible. Written in Feb, 1961
The interesting parts of this life include the baby; the outside contains only “dull stars” Whereas the baby’s “nots” are “clear vowels” that “rise up like balloons” This entire poem is made up of flashes of images. Here, the speaker is portrayed as “cow-heavy” and what are (most) cows good for…? The baby’s cry is “clean as a cat’s” Slow, deliberate. The night, in which the speaker has been waiting/listening for the baby’s cry, has passed. In these lines, the speaker isn’t analyzing everything about this new life, she’s simply watching her child. Morning Song
