Being a 90s girl who loves movies and books, I first learned of Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar through hearing it mentioned by Julia Stiles character in the movie Ten Things I Hate About You, which is not only an awesome teen movie, but is loosely based on Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew.
A self-described feminist, Stiles’s character Kat Stratford famously decries male misogyny while promoting the literary works of Sylvia Plath, Charlotte Bronte and Simone De Beauvoir. My interest peaked, I found a copy of The Bell Jar at the Book Lady in Monroe, N.C. and was soon reading a book that would rapidly make its way onto my list of top five novels I plan to read repeatedly.
The book is about a college girl’s mental illness and recovery.
From the synopsis one might think the subject matter to be too dark and depressing—much as I initially felt about the now mostly banned Jeffrey Eugenides novel The Virgin Suicides—which is undeniably about suicide, but also delves into the uniqueness of family dynamics and what society espouses as normal versus the very human relationships we hold behind closed doors; for most, it is a worthy read.
From the opening of The Bell Jar, it does not feel as though you are reading the internal commentary of someone descending into mental illness. The character of Esther Greenwood is charming, wholly amusing and oddly relatable.
Greenwood’s experiences are like that of many women — feeling she does not measure up, annoyance at a suitor’s unreturned and persistent affections, dealing with society’s expectations for women, struggling against feeling like she must live a life already mapped out for her and finding her way in life on her own terms.
The novel is highly autobiographical and chronicles the real-life Plath’s experiences in New York on a summer internship as a guest editor for a magazine. By the end of the novel Greenwood is recovered and describes the period leading up to her breakdown as looking through a bell jar, distorting for her the reality of her mental condition.
The real -life Plath also worked as a guest editor on an internship for Mademoiselle magazine in the months before her mental breakdown, attempted suicide and psychiatric hospitalization in 1953.
There are no wasted words in The Bell Jar — every syllable is there with intent, laced in layers of meaning — Plath’s descriptions are as transportive as her prose is shockingly confessional.
Instead of seeking bids of sympathy, the book garners respect without a hint of “woe-is-me.” It truly is a straightforward look into mental illness written in a way that takes the reader on a relatable journey, and one does not need to be mentally ill to relate to the experiences, thoughts, and feelings of the book’s main character.
For modern readers, it is important to note that Plath lived in a racially charged America and some of the descriptions in her work have a racist lean. Plath’s work is often categorized as “white feminist,” and the term is not unfair as The Bell Jar does detail her experience living as a white woman in 1950s America; after all, authentic writing comes from writing about what you know.
Far from depressing, the book ends with a mentally healed main character who is not only strong enough to finally stand on her own two feet, but can declare with hope and authority, “I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”