From Amazon

The Bell Jar chronicles the crack-up of Esther Greenwood: brilliant, beautiful, enormously talented, and successful, but slowly going under -- maybe for the last time. Sylvia Plath masterfully draws the reader into Esther's breakdown with such intensity that Esther's insanity becomes completely real and even rational, as probable and accessible an experience as going to the movies. Such deep penetration into the dark and harrowing corners of the psyche is an extraordinary accomplishment and has made The Bell Jar a haunting American classic.

From me

This is a shocking raw, spot-on realistic, no-nonsense and no-holds barred account of mental illness.

It is a masterpiece and deserves every accolade it has ever received.

The dry, dark humour that weaves it's way through this work. If you are the type of person who doesn't have the kind of a sense of humour, or cannot see humour in the dark side of life, you will either miss it entirely, or not appreciate it.

Plath spends no time prancing around the roses, here. This was a sincere, in-your-face trip through a struggling mind. You're not getting anything romanticized, unless it is intentional. Despite the bluntness and simplicity, make no mistake: this is beautifully written, complex and explores multiple themes.

To say what I didn't like would like would be a spoiler and has nothing to do with the book itself. I will leave as cryptically as possible: this is semi-autobiographical. At the end of the day, it is fiction.

How intertwined-autobiographical are we talking?

From Chapter 10:

"My heroine would be myself, only in disguise. She would be called Elaine. Elaine. I counted the letters on my fingers. There were six letters in Esther, too. It seemed a lucky thing."

I read this book twice in one day (it's not very long).

Like there is no way I could ever do it justice with a review. There's no way.

Suffered from crippling mental illness, making the theme of the book that much more heartbreaking.

Complex, raw imagery. The straightforward prose punctuated with some of the most honest emotion/vulnerability I've seen.

"I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."

"The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it."

“The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence.”

There will be haters. Go ahead and hate it. I don't like Atwood, you don't have to like Plath.

For some folks, this book is going to be feel self-absorbed. I assure you it is not, however, it's not up to me to tell you whether or not you enjoy the feel of an author's writing. You'll know by the end of the first chapter if it's for you or not.

Due to the content of the book, please know that there are some things that may be triggers for some readers.

Additionally, if you suffer from depression (or any other mental illness), or think you are, please seek help. Treatments today are not like they were in this book (bear in mind when it was written). There are good treatment options and many avenues of help available.

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Created Feb 24, 2018 at 12:00am • Submit your own review...