It took me all the perseverance I can muster to finish the book “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”. Pages after pages of mundane descriptions. However years of education has trained me to finish whatever I’ve started, which in light of all the real life events I have experienced so far is the worst habit one can develop. Much better just to switch gears or change horses long before one sinks oneself into this never ending dribble. Another reason I continued to the end is that I want to know about the details of the poet’s final tragedy and what her thoughts were that led to it. Of course my curiosity was not satisfied, the coveted content not materialized. It feels like an abridged journal, almost abridged deliberately to carve out the portion that I and most people who read this book are interested in finding out.
One part that stands out is her jealousy, for which she wrote with such energy and conciseness and insights. It’s very short, though. Another part that’s memorable is that Ted Hugh didn’t really like “Seven Samurai”, considered it boring, but praised it nonetheless. If all the rest of the book is written like these two events, it will be more interesting.