“You are twenty. You are not dead, although you were dead. The girl who died. And was resurrected. Children. Witches. Magic. Symbols. Remember the illogic of the fantasy. The strange tableau in the closet behind the bathroom: the feast, the beast, and the jelly-bean. Recall, remember: please do not die again. Let there be continuity at least - a core of consistency - even if your philosophy must be always a moving dynamic dialectic. The thesis is the easy time, the happy time. The antithesis threatens annihilation. The synthesis is the consummate problem.”
In this passage, Sylvia Plath explores the complexity of life and death, urging the reader to embrace the illogical and fantastical elements of existence. The use of symbols and imagery conveys a sense of continuity and a dynamic dialectic between opposing forces.
In this quote from Sylvia Plath's writing, there is a sense of urgency and a call to remember and embrace life despite its challenges. The speaker reminds the reader of the complexities of existence and the constant flux of emotions and experiences. The mention of death, resurrection, magic, and symbols adds a mystical and philosophical layer to the message. The idea of finding a balance between opposing forces, such as happy times and threats of annihilation, is highlighted as a central struggle. Overall, the quote conveys a sense of seeking continuity and consistency in the face of life's contradictions and uncertainties.
In this quote, Sylvia Plath reflects on the complexities of life and the struggle to find continuity and consistency amidst chaos and change. She urges the reader to remember the illogical nature of reality and to embrace the dynamic nature of existence. This message is still relevant today as we navigate through the uncertainties and challenges of life, emphasizing the importance of resilience and adaptability in the face of adversity.
Reflecting on Sylvia Plath's words, consider the following questions to delve deeper into the themes of life, death, and consistency:
“A bad dream.To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream.A bad dream.I remembered everything.I remembered the cadavers and Doreen and the story of the fig-tree and Marco's diamond and the sailor on the Common and Doctor Gordon's wall-eyed nurse and the broken thermometers and the negro with his two kinds of beans and the twenty pounds I gained on insulin and the rock that bulged between sky and sea like a grey skull.Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, should numb and cover them.But they were part of me. They were my landscape”
“We'll act as if all this were a bad dream."A bad dream.To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is the bad dream.A bad dream.I remembered everything.I remembered the cadavers and Doreen and the story of the fig tree and Marco's diamond and the sailor on the Common and Doctor Gordon's wall-eyed nurse and the broken thermometers and the Negro with his two kinds of beans and the twenty pounds I gained on insulin and the rock that bulged between sky and sea like a gray skull.Maybe forgetfulness, like a kind snow, would numb and cover them.But they were part of me. They were my landscape.”
“Why do you make our case (which is hell enough, and we have enough to test us in these coming cruel years) so utterly and absolutely rigid? I can take the even harder horror of letting myself melt into feeling again, and knowing it must freeze again, if only I can believe it is making a minute part of time and space better than it would have been by stubbornly staying always apart when we have so little time to be near.”
“Not easy to state the change you made.If I'm alive now, I was dead,Though, like a stone, unbothered by it.”
“Look at that ugly dead mask here and do not forget it. It is a chalk mask with dead dry poison behind it, like the death angel. It is what I was this fall, and what I never want to be again. The pouting disconsolate mouth, the flat, bored, numb, expressionless eyes: symptoms of the foul decay within.”
“With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand... hopeless from the start. ”