Reinstating Her Original Selection and Arrangement (Modern Classics)

"I am writing the best poems of my life... They will make my name." --Sylvia Plath, on the Ariel poems
It is a pity that Sylvia Plath is so underestimated--most people I know have never heard of her, and those who have dismiss her as an angry feminist who committed suicide. It is a sacrilege to sum up her person so: Plath is one of the most important poets of our century, and Ariel her most important work.
In it one can find the famous poems "Daddy", in which Plath shakes loose her restraints on her resentment for her father, who died when she was young: "At twenty I tried to die/ And get back, back, back to you... But they pulled me out of the sack / And they stuck me together with glue." ; "Lady Lazarus", a commentary of death and disappointment, which reflects her situation with terrible lyricism; and "Fever 103°", which, to me, is almost mocking; and "Ariel", after which the collection is named.
Ariel is fascinating--her skill with words, her wit, her self-control (for she obviously reigns herself in from being too emotional, too confessional, and yet one feels the pain and torment all the same, perhaps even more sharply), her ability to find Just the Right Words, is vivid and brilliant. When I finished Ariel, I was left with a feeling of vulnerability, pain, and enlightenment, as though I had seen what I had been missing all along and felt the absence of self-delusion deeply.
I have always been disturbed by the idea that Plath's creative energy seemed to stream from the destructive void that she felt inside of her soul and shared with the world, with skill and admirable lyricism... and yet I think that this is what made her such a *different*, unique poet. "Dying / Is an art, like everything else." She did it exceptionally well. -- K. Rivera

How typical. A race of men classifying Plath's genius as enhanced symptoms of PMS. Is it that hard to believe that a woman could give birth to poems so incredibly rich and textured purely because she is mentally capable to do so? Of course not. Therefore, why pigeon-hole Plath as an over-emotional woman, who, rather than Windexing and cooking her troubles away, chose to compose some of the most heralded lyrics of the twentieth century? It's difficult to excuse the Ariel poems as the simple mind-barf of a harried, lonely woman. Sylvia Plath was a genius. Period.

The book is described as "young adult" but this not-so-young-adult liked it very much. The author borrowed the story line of Shakespeare's Tempest and added years, events, and characters in and around the play. The author also borrows some of the ways Shakespeare developed his characters. A "witch" is presented as not evil. A "monster" in the eyes of some is revealed as a sympathetic character. Most important is Ariel, a spirit of imagination, who leads people to trouble to the extent that they opt for a world of imagination instead of the world as it is. While the book may be accessible to young adults, its sophisticated treatment of characters gives it layers of meaning best appreciated by those long gone from high school. Its ending, which I will not spoil by revealing, is stunning, and provides much food for thought for anyone concerned with America's history and direction. One warning: those who prefer their spirits to be cuddly Tinkerbell's over spirits capable of malevolence, and those who prefer Disney-sanitized fairy tales over the original Brothers Grimm, might find this book unsettling.

"Dying
is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well."
If any poet has laid his or her soul bare for the world to see, it has been Sylvia Plath. In this cycle of verses, we see the poet's soul wander and cry and crumble. It's all very intense and often frightening, and if Plath were still alive her readers would be very, very worried about her mental health. As it is she worked right up until her death, and gave us a radiant first hand account of the descent.

I knew about this book for a long time before I read it, because I knew it's a classic but I had no idea how truly amazingly brilliant unique & visionary a poetic work this is. Her music here is completely melodious & unfaltering. Her metaphors are staggeringly incisive. Her themes & subjects are so expansive, so complex! Someone once told me she didn't like Sylvia Plath since Sylvia Plath was just a victim of herself, but that's not the reason for her fame, just another facet of the intensity of her mind. This book is absolutely incredible poetry.

How typical. A race of men classifying Plath's genius as enhanced symptoms of PMS. Is it that hard to believe that a woman could give birth to poems so incredibly rich and textured purely because she is mentally capable to do so? Of course not. Therefore, why pigeon-hole Plath as an over-emotional woman, who, rather than Windexing and cooking her troubles away, chose to compose some of the most heralded lyrics of the twentieth century? It's difficult to excuse the Ariel poems as the simple mind-barf of a harried, lonely woman. Sylvia Plath was a genius. Period.

Sylvia Plath, a true poet. In an era where poetry is overly-cerebral and academic, where workshops axe words to death, this is a glimpse of an artist who is truly inspired.

A real breath of fresh air. It is always good to go back to the greats, and, as I've mentioned earlier regarding Jonathan Gold, to read the writing someone with real, unaffected pathos.

Some of the poems are difficult to understand the first time, others are like a window where you can watch life. But in the end, all of them come to an understanding of simple things, like a finger cut, and complex ones, like dying. The intensity that run free from the pages, the fire that try to burn your fingertips with every word, and the truth that pierce your hearth, is what it makes this book a jewel.

as the publisher's weekly blurb states, these are not new poems, so don't get swept up in the "what plath fans have all been waiting for...". all of the poems shown here were published in the 1981 edition of Plath's Collected Poems by the devilish Ted Hughes.

So, why this edition? It's interesting to see someone's own manuscripts -- but interesting to whom? Plath fans. people mildly interested in Plath or new to her may feel a strain in deciding which version to read much like a confused customer i helped at a book store once displayed when I tried to explain that there are multiple versions of Leaves of Grass...

But which one should a reader new to Plath read? her version or Hughes's version? A purist (like me) would argue that her version is what to read. But someone interested in Ariel in an academic setting would be best served picking up the Hughes' version.

It is important for readers (academic or not) to realize that editors have often been the unseen geniuses (and villains) behind great works. I'm not calling Hughes a genius -- I'm just suggesting that perhaps both versions can teach us something about Plath -- regardless of our interest level.

I first encountered one of Sylvia Plath's poems in my English course at college. I became engaged and decided to buy this book. I wasn't dissapointed. Although I don't like all of the poems, there are some that are really haunting. She always put forth what she though, which is really admirable. They are easy to read. My favorites are:"Daddy" and "Lady Lazarus".

It seems every morbid well read teenage girl would carry a Sylvia Plath book around school, and I was one of them (I can't speak for the current Extreme Makeover, American Idol, online porn generation) Although I struck the Plath pose in high school, in all honesty I didn't really understand and appreciate her until my late thirties after I was married and had children. As a stay at home mother I know all too well the feeling of inadaquacy I must endure from those that deem me unworthy of anything too serious or intellectual. When I read Ariel and The Bell Jar years later it was more poignant. As a 39 year old mother of a small child I now understand what chauvanism and gender condecension really is, and it has allowed to read Plath with more empathy.

So dark yet beautiful, a must have for every women. I was left speechless with it's intensity and shocked by the passion.

I ordered Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters, at the same time and read it after reading Ariel. Then I started reading them together one of his and then one of hers. I was moved to tears and spent an evening in near exhaustation, I'm left speechless.

Call me silly, but I can't help but see a very tragic modern day Romeo and Juliet with these two books. The expression of pain, hurt and love in these two poets is beyond comparsion and seldom seen. They touched the soul and will be remembered.

Thank you Sylvia and Thank you Ted.

The poetry in Ariel is unavoidably sensual. Even when the reader experiences the poems without the image of "Mad Sylvia" as a kind of fog over the poems, they are immediate and fateful. The voice is in the process of fading, as if between spirit and flesh and she speaks from that perspective. Lines like, "At nightfall there is the beauty of drowned fields." And "Let us eat it like Plato's afterbirth,/ Let us eat it like Christ." are longing finger holds of the imagination on the worlds which she cannot choose between. Ariel is a small book, but a reader goes away feeling as if they spent time in a dense society and have developed muscles from the new gravity. Consider these poems as gifts.

Ariel by Sylvia Plath is my favorite volume of poetry, so when I heard Frieda Hughes was editing a restored edition of her mother's second full-length collection, I was thrilled. However, upon reading the book in Plath's own layout, I was not as enraptured with the work. As much as it pains me to admit it, Ted Hughes did an excellent job in editing the version of Ariel that was published in 1965.

In the 1965 version, the heart of the manuscript was--as literary critics have called--"The Bee Sequence." Originally, Plath chose to end her manuscript with the sequence, leaving out the poem "The Swarm," which leaves the sequence less developed. While Plath ended with the Bee Poems, Hughes ended the book with the more forceful poems "Contusion," "Edge," and "Words."

Also, one of Plath's more overlooked poems "The Munich Mannequins" was also left out in Plath's original layout. Considering that one of the driving forces of the book is the World War II allusions, Hughes's choice in including it in the 1965 edition was sound.

In addition to the less developed and complex version of Ariel, Frieda Hughes does include a facsimile of the original manuscript, which is really what saves this edition. Any Plath enthusiast would be happy with this book, if only for the facsimile. But then Frieda Hughes couldn't have made the book as thick as it was; therefore, she would make less money.

To be honest, it is really only a book for people who are already Plath fans. If you're interested in her work, check out the 1965 edition.

At last we can read Ariel the way Sylvia Plath it. This is now a fuller and more varied collection. Frieda Hughes's foreword is revealing and powerful. My only criticism (hence the docked star) is that fact that Plath's first collection 'The Collossus' is missing from the list of other works. Is it because the book was not published by Faber and Faber? Whatever the excuse, this is a grave mistake as we can learn a great deal about Plath's development toward what we now see as 'The Ariel Voice'. Still, I'm delighted to finally have the authentic Ariel in my personal library.

A retelling of the classic The Tempest with a twist! As the sailor Jasper finally finds an island to land after falling overboard he thinks in his dying breath of a beautiful woman of his dreams, she springs from his head and is made real. She waits on the island for another human to come and give her the power to explore the world around her.

[...]

One of the only good things to be said about Ariel is that it was a quick read. I'm sorry to report that I did not enjoy the experience. Though the basis was extremely interesting to me (while I have not read The Tempest, I greatly enjoy Shakespeare and tales concerning him and his plays), the execution was amateur.

In the end, I didn't understand the point. I wasn't left with that wonderful sense of awe one is supposed to have upon finishing a book. It all seemed aimless and hasty. The climax could hardly be described as such (so abrupt!). There were no clever plot twists (I wasn't even amused by the allusion at the end). The characters were too inhuman to relate to - I really ended up hating most of them.

On the bright side, I am much more interested in reading The Tempest itself now, for I'd like to see how it compares with this novel.

One of the great things about Shakespeare is that you can put one of his plays in any era and it will fit. One of the great things about Grace Tiffany's books is that she is true to Shakespeare while bringing him to life from a new perspective. As with all her other books, this one made me want to go back and reread the original, in this case The Tempest. Ariel is imaginative, creative, humorous and profound; it's a great read.

This is a book women give to other women. I keep giving my copy away, yet somehow I always end up with another one... Ariel was Sylvia Plath's horse, and like the passion of women for horses, these poems are weirdly powerful, frightening, sensual and arcane.

This book poems from the final, anguished months of Sylvia Plath's life is exquisite. Each of the poems has a manic honesty and power enough to break your heart. By far the best of Plath's poetic output, these poems will haunt you as if they themselves are Plath's ghost.

I'm not a big fan of this version. I think the Collected Poems are much better.

It's terribly designed, cheaply put together. And unfortunately I think the original Ariel is a better sequence...but that's just my opinion...

I really don't think this added much to my Plath collection (or obsession). Maybe if it came out in a beautiful edition it would be worth it.

This book of poems by plath is an excellent read. i use her poetry as a springboard for poems i write and it's a wonderful help. this is a book of poems by plath that were found by her ex husband after her suicide, he edited them and compiled them to create ariel. i recommend this book to anyone serious about poetry that can handle the hardness of the reality plaths poems adress.

I was disappointed that the subject of this book was not Ariel Motorcycles like I had been led to believe.

I would recommend all motorcyclists to purchase Roy Bacon's "Ariel, the post war years" or the "The book of the Ariel" by Peter Hartley. The latter has been recently reprinted by the AOMCC and is available via the club. We of course await

the definitive book on Ariels at present being written by amongst others, John Bradshaw.

As to Ms Plath's offering, I found it little more than a masturbatory suicide note best suited to mopping up oil leaks. It was not insightful to the human condition other than to see what an awfully state of matrimony existed between the author and Hughes who could not bear to have his poor wife's work published in the order she wished but was still happy to reap the profits of her misery.

If you wish for an unhappy and haunted future of introspection I suggest you purchase this book.

If you want some fun buy a Red Hunter Motorcycle.

First off, I think in order to be fair, I should give a little background information on myself to validate my opinions.

I am a 16 yeard old white female. I attend an Art's School for students who are gifted in music, dance, theatre, creative writing, or visual arts. The students selected are interviewed for about 30 minutes to 3 hours, depending on the core area. The odds of getting ito the school are about 1 out of 450. I attend the school for creative writing and not only do I have to write an abundant amount of work, I must also study both contemporary and classic literature. No, I am not trying to flatter myself or brag, but I think this information is necessary in order to understand my viewpoints on Plath's work.

Also, like Plath, I have been committed to psychiatric hospitals and had to stay at one for 3 full years. Though I have never known Plath's diagnosis, it is probable that it is the same as mine: manic-depressive psychosis due to her severe depression, rage, and the amount of work she created right before her suicide.

Reading the following information, it would seem I would be a perfect, die-hard, Plath fan. But, alas, I am not.

Plath's work, in my opinion, is definitely not a work of "genius." Some of her poems come close, but are still lacking in their astonishment that so many describe. The poems that touch on the border of "genius" are "Elm" ("I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:/It is what you fear./I do not fear it: I have been there." and "I am terrified by this dark thing/That sleeps in me;/All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity."), "Widow" (Widow. The dead syllable, with its shadow/Of an echo, exposes the panel in the wall/Behind which the secret passages lies--stale air,/Fusty remembrances, the coiled-spring stair/That opens at the top onto nothing at all..../), "Poppies in July" ("Little poppies, little hell flames,/Do you do no harm?//You flicker. I cannot touch you./I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.//And it exhausts me to watch you/Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.//A mouth just bloodied."), "Crossing the Water" ("The spirit of blackness is in us, it is in the fishes./A snag is lifting a valedictory, pale hand;//Stars open among the lilies./Are you not blinded by such expressionless sirens?/This is the silence of astounded souls."), "Lady Lazarus" ("Dying/Is an art, like everything else./I do it exceptionally well."), and a few other lines from some other poems that I don't think are worth mentioning at this point.

Plath became famous because of her "suffering artist" personality that she displayed. Yes, she did stay in London with her young children in a freezing winter where she wrote her "Ariel" poems, but she wasn't the only one, and I'm sure much others had it worse.

But, the most obvious reason she became famous was because of her suicide. This is why whiny, depressed, angst-ridden teenagers are drawn to Plath. They do not love her because of her dazzling poetry, but because she chose to kill her herself. Many teenagers, especially females, model themselves after Plath. They attempt suicide to live more "deeply" and write horrible Plath-like poetry that isn't even near the realm of Plath's work. They feel that Plath created this poetry just for them and that they are the only ones who truly understand how Plath felt, and no one else in the world (or their school) feels this way. They don't bother to understand the poetry. Instead they read it a few times, over analyze it, and decide that they also feel the same way and that they should also write poetry and attempt suicide.

Die-hard, teenage Plath fans also tend to be incredibly close minded to any other poetry, expect for Plath and other suicidal poets (i.e. Anne Sexton). These people are just ignorant and think that they are "TRULY" unique, and that their poetry should be published so others can know that they suffer.

I have had to read poetry by these types of people, and I tell you, they are very inadequate to the writing they CAN do, because many of them are very talented, but are narrow minded and only write about their so-called "sufferings." I can tell by their thought processes that they have talent, but refuse to expand into different realms of poetry.

Of course, when you write about suffering, it isn't always pathetic. Just don't make it the topic of your whole book of poetry. There is more to life then death.

And, not just teenage Plath fans, but teenagers who write poetry in general usually don't edit and rewrite their work because they feel as though it takes the "soul" out of their work. They want to leave it "raw" and "unpolished." They want people to feel what they were feeling in that exact moment. And this is why much of their poetry horrible: they don't believe in editing their work.

Plath did edit her work. She was considered a professional. While standing in the bookstore and reading this book (I did not bother to purchase it) I read her original manuscripts. Obviously, the published ones were better. The most disappointing thing about this volume was that they only provided a few of her original manuscripts. What they should've done (or should do) instead is make a whole book dedicated to her original manuscripts so others can see her creative process and the value of editing and rewriting. Put the manuscripts first, and then the final poem. I think this would make out for a nice book....it might be worth $25.

Those who feel that this book is worth the money are either the die-hard Plath fans, or educators of some sort, who for some bizarre reason need to purchase this book.

Overall, I'm not a fan of Plath, so I cannot give a good rating to this book. The Collected Poems I would give 3 stars, only because you can see how much she progressed (for the better) in her poetry and it includes her all her published (and some previously unpublished) works.

If you want to read good poetry, I suggest Emily Dickinson, or, if you want to stick to more contemporary poetry, Louise Gluck ("The Wild Iris" won a Pulitzer), or find some good translations for Rainer Maria Rilke, Anna Akhmatova, and Marina Tseteyeva. Plath just doesn't live up to the hype. If you suffer for your art, at least make sure it's "good" art.

Long ago, not long after Plath committed suicide, I read Ariel for the first time. I hadn't even known then that she had killed herself a few years before. She is our best poet, both female and male, of her era. We are much the poorer for her short time on this earth. Let's treasure her gift, her very rare gift.