The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
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The Bell Jar

Sylvia Plath's shocking, realistic, and intensely emotional novel about a woman falling into the grip of insanity
Esther Greenwood is brilliant, beautiful, enormously talented, and successful, but slowly going under—maybe for the last time. In her acclaimed and enduring masterwork, Sylvia Plath brilliantly draws the reader into Esther's breakdown with such intensity that her insanity becomes palpably real, even rational—as accessible an experience as going to the movies. A deep penetration into the darkest and most harrowing corners of the human psyche, The Bell Jar is an extraordinary accomplishment and a haunting American classic.
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262 printed pages
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The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
The Bell Jar
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Natalia Mirochnik
Natalia Mirochnikshared an impressionlast year
👍
💀Spooky
🔮Hidden Depths
💡Learnt A Lot
🎯Worthwhile
🚀Unputdownable

QuotesAll

The night before I'd seen a play where the heroine was possessed by a dybbuk, and when the dybbuk spoke from her mouth its voice sounded so cavernous and deep you couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman.
I thought it sounded just like the sort of drug a man would invent. Here was a woman in terrible pain, obviously feeling every bit of it or she wouldn't groan like that, and she would go straight home and start another baby, because the drug would make her forget how bad the pain had been
There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them.
out of a few prosy nothings
felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.)
I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street
There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.
Only I wasn’t steering anything, not even myself. I just bumped from my hotel to work and to parties and from parties to my hotel and back to work like a numb trolleybus.
The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

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