I re-read Sylvia Plath’s Ariel (1964) this winter, revisiting it after first reading the volume back in 2002. Plath’s book of poems is brilliant and intrepid. Her poems gut you with their rawness and honestly.
I still don’t understand many of the poems fully, but they each made me think. I’ve also been reading literary analyses of many of her poems. I find it curious to see the wildly different interpretations people have of them.
It’s hard to read this work without also contemplating the tragedy of Sylvia Plath’s death. She was hugely talented, driven, and hard-working. I was glad to read this book again because Plath inspires me to write and be truthful and open like her.
I especially loved her poems "Medusa," "Poppies in October," "Kindness," and "Poppies in July."
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