Heather Clark (1) (1974–)
Auteur de Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath
Pour les autres auteurs qui s'appellent Heather Clark, voyez la page de désambigüisation.
A propos de l'auteur
Heather Clark is Professor of Literature at Marlboro College in Vermont and Adjunct instructor of Irish Studies at New York University.
Œuvres de Heather Clark
Étiqueté
Partage des connaissances
- Date de naissance
- 1974-05-30
- Sexe
- female
- Organisations
- University of Huddersfield
Membres
Critiques
Listes
Prix et récompenses
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Statistiques
- Œuvres
- 3
- Membres
- 367
- Popularité
- #65,579
- Évaluation
- 4.4
- Critiques
- 9
- ISBN
- 24
- Langues
- 2
Even though I’m not a fan of poetry, I am still sort of drawn to Sylvia Plath, possibly because she is buried in nearby Heptonstall but also because of her incredible talent and relatable personality. I have read previous biographies and The Bell Jar, of course, although only recently, but a ‘six degrees’ personal connection to the author inspired me to pick up Clark’s recent tome – in hardback – and then put the heaviest book in the world back down and wait for the Kindle edition to drop in price instead! Even then, getting through Plath’s brief life took up most of March. Clark certainly packs in every last poem, journal, letter and interview, including new sources, but honestly, shorter biographies say exactly the same thing (apart from the book co-authored by Ted’s hateful sister, don’t read that one). Fewer statements from people who knew Sylvia from five minutes and then wrote a book about her, and a general cull of inserting [sic] into quotes (just say that Sylvia wasn’t a fan of capital letters and move on, woman) would have tightened the text no end. And for all that Clark dots her i’s and crosses her t’s, some of her claims are still suspect, from apparently attributing the First World War song ‘Pack Up Your Troubles’ to Sylvia (‘Her accompanying illustration of a wounded man with a bloody, bandaged head stands as a sobering counterpoint to her original ditty that instructed soldiers to “pack up” their troubles in their kit bag and “smile, smile, smile”’) to claiming that ‘President John F. Kennedy sent his wife, Jackie, for electroshock treatment after a particularly brutal fight about his infidelity’ (REALLY? Where’s the footnote for that one? I’ve read countless books about the Kennedys and never picked up on that spurious rumour!)
Sylvia shines through the verbiage, however. She really was an incredible woman, fighting the multiple ists and isms of 1950s America (hateful place and time) to write in her own way, including considerable poetry and prose, which surprised me. I agree with Heather Clark on that note – ‘She ought to be remembered for her transcendent, trailblazing poems, not for gassing herself in her kitchen.’ I love Sylvia’s passion and pride in her writing, her self-deprecating honesty, her bitchiness (calling Assia Wevill ‘Weavy Asshole’ made me snort), and her thwarted desire to have it all, just like the men in her life. I’m surprised that Clark didn’t speculate on Plath’s mental health, however, especially after this quote: ‘It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative—whichever is running at the moment dominates my life’. Depression or bipolar/borderline personality disorder? Perhaps as we’ll never know, it’s wiser not to attach labels, but I couldn’t help thinking about how she would be diagnosed – and treated – today.
There should be an award for getting through this biography, but Clark hasn’t put me off – I’m going to visit Heptonstall again this year, and read Sylvia’s poems in the meantime.… (plus d'informations)