1. Sylvia Plath and Meghan Curtin Ryan Biery, Billy Foshay

2. Biographical (1932-1963) Frequent financial troubles Father died Feminist through college Depression Married, lost focus Attempted suicide Bell jar Final suicide “ Sylvia Plath's suicide, which some critics read as her last, inevitable poem, has led most critics to assume a greater degree of fulfillment and completion in her work than it can justly claim… ”

3. Themes Death Violence Depression Suicide Isolation Pessimism Self-Destruction “ …many of them written during the final, turbulent weeks of her life, read as if they’ve been chiseled, with a fine surgical instrument, out of arctic ice… ”

4. Motifs Darkness Blood (“Cut”) God Glory Outdoor Setting Colors (black, red, white) “ The passive, paralyzed, continually surfacing and fading consciousness of Sylvia Plath in her poems is disturbing to us because it seems to summon forth, to articulate with deadly accuracy…. ”

5. Motivation Separation anxiety Genetic depression Strong sense of feminism Lack of fame Father’s death Attempted suicide “ Sylvia Plath has made beautiful poetry out of the paranoia sometimes expressed by a certain kind of emotionally disturbed person, who imagines that any relationship with anyone will overwhelm him, engulf and destroy his soul. ”

6. Literary Devices Allusion (ex. Nazis) Slant rhyme End rhyme Obsessive Repetition Motifs Imagery “ Individual poems are best read in the context of the whole oeuvre: motifs, themes and images link poems together and these linkages illuminate their meaning and heighten their power… ”

7. “Cinderella” The prince leans to the girl in scarlet heels, Her green eyes slant, hair flaring in a fan Of silver as the rondo slows; now reels Begin on tilted violins to span The whole revolving tall glass palace hall Where guests slide gliding into light like wine; Rose candles flicker on the lilac wall Reflecting in a million flagons' shine, And glided couples all in whirling trance Follow holiday revel begun long since, Until near twelve the strange girl all at once Guilt-stricken halts, pales, clings to the prince As amid the hectic music and cocktail talk She hears the caustic ticking of the clock.

8. “Cut” What a thrill --- My thumb instead of an onion. The top quite gone Except for a sort of a hinge Of skin, A flap like a hat, Dead white. Then that red plush. Little pilgrim, The Indian's axed your scalp. Your turkey wattle Carpet rolls Straight from the heart. I step on it, Clutching my bottle Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is. Out of a gap A million soldiers run, Redcoats, every one. Whose side are they on? O my Homunculus, I am ill. I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling. Saboteur, Kamikaze man --- The stain on your Gauze Ku Klux Klan Babushka Darkens and tarnishes and when The balled Pulp of your heart Confronts its small Mill of silence How you jump --- Trepanned veteran, Dirty girl, Thumb stump.

9. “The Life” collector: They ring true, like good china. Elsewhere the landscape is more frank. The light falls without letup, blindingly. A woman is dragging her shadow in a circle About a bald hospital saucer. It resembles the moon, or a sheet of blank paper And appears to have suffered a sort of private blitzkrieg. She lives quietly With no attachments, like a foetus in a bottle, The obsolete house, the sea, flattened to a picture She has one too many dimensions to enter. Grief and anger, exorcised, Leave her alone now. The future is a grey seagull Tattling in its cat-voice of departure. Age and terror, like nurses, attend her, And a drowned man, complaining of the great cold, Crawls up out of the sea. Touch it: it won't shrink like an eyeball, This egg-shaped bailiwick, clear as a tear. Here's yesterday, last year --- Palm-spear and lily distinct as flora in the vast Windless threadwork of a tapestry. Flick the glass with your fingernail: It will ping like a Chinese chime in the slightest air stir Though nobody in there looks up or bothers to answer. The inhabitants are light as cork, Every one of them permanently busy. At their feet, the sea waves bow in single file. Never trespassing in bad temper: Stalling in midair, Short-reined, pawing like paradeground horses. Overhead, the clouds sit tasseled and fancy As Victorian cushions. This family Of valentine faces might please a

10. Criticism “Beautiful…” “Saintly…” “[Unnecessarily] heavy verbs…” “Intensified…” “Zany, accurate and unexpected…” “Sylvia Plath's suicide, which some critics read as her last, inevitable poem…” “…eccentric imagination” “Strange..” “Startling expressions” “Redemption”

11. We Agree... “Saintly…” “Zany, accurate and unexpected…” “Intensified…” “…eccentric imagination” “Strange..” “Redemption”

12. We Disagree… “Beautiful…” “[Unnecessarily] heavy verbs…” “Accurate” “Startling expressions”

13. There is no human glory, no salvation except death.

14. Works Cited American poets, 1880-1945, first series. Detroit, Mich: Gale Research Co., 1986. Giles, James, ed. Dictionary of Literary Biography. Vol. 152. The Gale Group, 1995. Mendelson, Riley, ed. Contemporary Literary Critisism. Vol. 5. Gale Research Company. "The Poetry of Sylvia Plath." Stanford University. 01 Apr. 2009. Steinberg, Peter K. Sylvia Plath. Philadelphia: Chelsea House, 2004. "Sylvia Plath." 01 Apr. 2009. "Sylvia Plath." 01 Apr. 2009.