Lady Lazarus is a dark tortured poem written about 1962. Canto di MariaL agnello domenicale sfrigola nel suo grasso.Il grasso immola la sua opacit.Una finestra, oro santo.Il fuoco la fa preziosa,lo stesso fuocoche strugge sugna d ereticie stermina gli ebrei.Planano i loro spessi mantellisulla cicatrice della Polonia, bruciataGermania.Loro non muoiono.Incalzano grigi uccellavi il mio cuore,bocca cenere, cenere di occhio.Si posano Sull altoprecipizioche un solo uomo svuot in spazioi forni ardevano come cieli, incandescenti.E un cuorel olocausto a cui vado,o figlio aureo che il mondo uccider e manger. @READ KINDLE ½ Lady Lazarus ô Amazing Ebook, Lady Lazarus Author Sylvia Plath This Is Very Good And Becomes The Main Topic To Read, The Readers Are Very Takjup And Always Take Inspiration From The Contents Of The Book Lady Lazarus, Essay By Sylvia Plath Is Now On Our Website And You Can Download It By Register What Are You Waiting For Please Read And Make A Refission For You To quote John Green, the poem is brutal and angry, and morbid and it involves a lot of corpses It sounds about right It s a little too pessimistic for my liking and I think it elevates suicide as something beautiful when in fact it isn t. da tulipaniIo non volevo fiori, volevo solamente giacere a palme riverse ed essere tutta vuotacome si liberi, liberi da non credersi La pace cos grande che abbaglia, e non chiede nulla, un etichetta col nome, pochi aggeggi E il finale a cui approdano i morti me li figuro inghiottirselo come un ostia da comunione. Sylvia Plath is a poetic genius.The poem Lady Lazarus is emotionally gripping with a freezing cold touch.She feels a sense of responsibility for the Holocaust since her father was a former Nazi.The words she uses express a deep guilt which tears apart her heart and mind.It is very deep It s one of my favorite poems because the level of guilt she feels for something she had no part in proves the emotionally instability a woman can entrap herself into. I really liked this Plath has really cemented herself as an amazing poet and one of my favorites of all time This poem deals with resurrection and the concept of being a phoenix, Death is an art and I do it so well.
DyingIs an art, like everything else.I do it exceptionally well.I do it so it feels like hell.I do it so it feels real.I guess you could say I ve a call. Per parlare di Sylvia Plath prender in prestito le stupende parole di Nick Mount, professore all Universit di Toronto, che nel 2009 fece una lezione su Ariel Il video dell intera conferenza lo trovate a questo link Dura quasi 50 minuti ma ne valsa la pena Mount analizza la poesia di Sylvia Plath per poi passare a parlare della poesia lirica in generale, fornendo una toccante riflessione sul valore della poesia stessa Qui sotto ho trascritto la parte finale della lezione Sylvia Plath uses a number of metaphors for herself and her art in Ariel Lady Lazarus, she s a holocaust survivor, she s Lilith the first mythical wife of Adam, she s a daughter with an Electra complex Most of the metaphors that she uses to represent herself in the book suggest the idea of resurrection and anger, but the main metaphor for Plath in this book the book s controlling metaphor is not about either of those things It s not about resurrection, it s not about anger it s about creativity What I m referring to is the title of the book itself Ariel Ariel is a character in Shakespeare s play The Tempest, a spirit of the air In the play Ariel is non gendered Ariel was cursed by the witch Sycorax and confined in a tree on an enchanted island Prospero shipwrecks on this island and lets Ariel out of the tree and makes Ariel his servant Ariel is all light and air Ariel can fly, can turn invisible at will and because of that and because of how Ariel assists Prospero, Ariel has often been understood as a symbol of creation, of creativity as opposed to Caliban as the bestial side of us The tempest was the first play that Sylvia Plath ever saw When she was 12 years old her mother took her and her brother to see a production of it in Boston and according to Plath s mother, Aurelia, Sylvia was absolutely captivated by the play and especially by Ariel Plath considered several titles for the book that became Ariel She considered calling it Daddy, The Rival and at one point The Birthday Letters, but ultimately decided to name it after what she thought it was its best poem Ariel was published in the London Observer but the editors of the London Observer decided that readers would have a hard time to understand what the poem was about and changed the title of the poem to The Horse, which when you read it through you realise that s what the poem s about Plath s friends knew what it was about She took riding lessons after she and Ted moved with the kids to Devon and the horse that she learned on was completely coincidentally called Ariel But readers didn t know that The London Observer was right in one sense to insist on a clear title for the poem, but in another way the Observer was very wrong to change the title because the title of this poem about riding a runaway horse is absolutely key to this book and to understanding Plath s mind in the last few months of her life Plath clearly knew who Ariel was a spirit of the air, not a runaway horse, so why do this The answer I think is for Sylvia Plath a runaway horse was the perfect metaphor for creativity, for all that Ariel represents Creativity but also the danger of the creative Plath wrote Ariel on her birthday Her first birthday without Ted since the two had met The poem has been read as predicting her suicide, as if she s riding this horse into her own death Yes, probably, but I don t think that s all it s all about I think this poem is not only about where life was taking her but also about where her art was taking her, which happened to be the same place A place outside the everyday world, the place of the lyric world A place she did not survive The lyric poem tries to stop time, but we live in time Time is utterly inescapable, so if we re not in time, where are we The lyric is the entrance to another world, it s a world that we simply cannot inhabit for long if we re going to hold on to our sanity, because it s a world outside of time and that is the reason why lyric poems tend to be short Edgar Allan Poe said no than a 100 lines, because you simply cannot stay there for long You can t concentrate with that kind of intensity for long And it is perhaps the reason why lyric poets tend themselves to madness There are so many of them You could compile an equally long list of casualties from the other half of the lyric tradition, and that is the musical side Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Tim Buckley, Nick Drake, Kurt Cobain, Elliott Smith When a rock star dies we tend to blame the death on the lifestyle of popular music itself But maybe their form of the lyric is as much to blame There s no shortage of hard living among poets For whatever reason, we want to explore this other world, this world of the lyric More often we want to spend other people to explore it for us We send artists because we simply cannot go there ourselves It is too scary and most of us lack the tools to describe whatever it is we may find there The irony for me here is not that so many of these artists end up self destructing The irony is that they re destroyed by the very thing that we want them to do, by the very performance that they re expected to give Ted Hughes says for himself and Sylvia in The Birthday Letters that we did what poetry told us to do We need artists to sacrifice for us, to go to places where we are simply not prepared or capable to go ourselves Last September there was another artistic suicide the American novelist and essayist David Foster Wallace When he died the blogs and the papers were all talking again about the apparent link between creativity and suicide One of the commentators on this had a different take than most In the end, rather than simply proving the madness of poetsit seems to me that the suicide of David Foster Wallace, and the association of literary supremacy and mental illness generally, provides an occasion to rethink the meaning of mental illness itself For the world would not be richer had Hemingway and Woolf and Dickinson been cured of their supposed ailments If literary genius and mental illness have grown synonymous, perhaps it is our own diagnostic terminology which is in need of a cure Ira Wells, The Literary Suicide, National Post, 25 Sep 2008 Since the psychiatric age every major psychoanalitic critic known to me except one has said that all artists are sick Freud started it For Freud art is a symptom of its authors mental problems For Freud all of Shakespeare s is about Shakespeare s daddy The one exception was Carl Jung Jung said that the work of art is not a disease, which may be one of the reason why nobody reads Carl Jung any What Ira Wells is saying is that if great art really is sick, if this thing that gives so many so much is a disease, then maybe what we need to do is to redefine disease , redefine illness itself Maybe what drives some artists mad to the point of suicide is not the world of art at all It s the real world The world that defines their world as sick I want to end by suggesting something positive, a positive reason for art than madness and suicide Sylvia Plath wrote her best poems at the worst moments of her life and that should tell us something What that should tell us is that you can do without poetry until you fall in love, until somebody you love dies, until something goes horribly horribly wrong, or much less often horribly right And then, when that happens, poetry becomes not just important but absolutely essential William Carlos Williams wrote that Men die every day for what they miss in poetry The American poet Thomas Lynch says People are born, and reborn, every day, who owe their very beings to poems Those are two kids right there Frieda and Nicholas Plath who quite literally owe their lives to poetry They were conceived because Sylvia Plath memorised one of Ted Hughes poems and quoted it to him at a party Ask yourselves how many of you would not be sitting here right now without poetry What poem did your mother write to your father What poem did your father write to your mother What songs were playing on the soundtrack to your conception Disturbing, depressing brutal, so typical of Plath s works.