Day: January 14, 2014

Why and how Sylvia Plath disappointed me

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Until last year I had read only  the most famous of Plath’s poems like “Daddy”.Then I read many more and also many works of criticism and explanation.And then I realised she was one of the  most gifted poets of her era. But alas, her maturity as a poet coincided with the breakdown of her marriage.And so her talents were used to  express mainly rage and then meaninglessness and death.

Was it only the tragedy of  her life situation that brought about her mature voice ? I believe not. And so I grieve that her wonderful works were full of rage and destructiveness…. what would she have written otherwise.I also believe that her motives in marrying Hughe were mixed…. and so  were his to her.Marriage is entered into too lightly and without understanding.I almost feel arranged marriages were better sometimes

Now maybe it  is wrong of me to say this but I know we all are acquainted with anger, envy,jealous and other painful emotions .But  I believe to cultivate them is not moral. And to utilise them in Art is something dangerous and maybe destructive. And without specifying any religion or  ethical system I believe acting ethically is more important than art, music,writing and so on…not that there is always a conflict.

I may appear to counsel perfection but I merely grieve for the loss of a genius and what she might have written if she had been given support and help when left alone with two  tiny children in a foreign land.

If we have gifts let us use them for good and for the encouragement of our  human companions on this  planet and not for harm,destruction ,stealing wealth and creating evil

The Sylvia Plath Effect

http://www.neatorama.com/2008/03/18/writers-who-suffered-from-the-sylvia-plath-effect/#!scilW

I mentioned the writer Plath in my last post.I came across this article… but it is unfair to label this problem as “The Sylvia Plath Effect” as most of the writers referred to lived before Plath.But women writers,are potential writers used to find it very hard to construct an identity which could include love,sex and family and also being a writer and an agent  in one’s life rather than just a subject in someone else’s…. perhaps a husband’s/At one time women gave up on love and marriage and were  able to be writers but it seems a pity.

Now,that may seem a privilege when most women inn the world struggle to survive.But writers and artists are not a luxury. We need them to express what we cannot; to venture into new parts of life.to express what is below the surface .Not that all art is of equal value.I myself would be very happy if Rr.Wagner had fallen of a horse and tacked his skull  before he wrote “The Ring Cycle “and his other loaded musical works. Music is in any case not  always of moral benefit/We are too familiar with the top Nazis loving Mozart not to be aware of the dangers of believing  art is  always a beneficial thing. Plato was very wary of it.

Nor do I naively believe that all that happens is the direct will of God/Even god would be irritated by

The Ride of the Valkyries” and other such inflaming nonsense.I feel it’s blasphemous to mention God at all but looking back at the 20 th century we see his face turned away.

I do believe that Plath’s suicide was a very bad thing because  any such event seems to produce copycat suicides.. indeed Plath’s husband’s mistress also gassed herself and their child…a dreadful imitation.Tread carefully indeed when you imagine love is a simple and easy sweet there to be grabbed.Assia Wevill  plotted to seduce Ted Hughes.

I am very much against planning or plotting to gratify  one’s self at the expense of another and in fact she destroyed her own life compounding grief and woe.

I believe in  our society it is accepted that women can use their gifts but not at the expense of their duties.Men are also affected by the need to work and support their families when perhaps they would like to imitate Gauguin…!

Mal a la tete and other English problems

 

Please read my introductions.

Humor from essays.

The main purpose of sex is multiple onanisms.
Children are deceived half way through a womans bicycle.
Sex should not cause rubble in bed.
Married folk can kiss on the Sabbath only.
Please do not whore coal in the bath.
In the UK sex is overcome by talent.
Please repress yourself in the kitchen.
Do not split up before dinner.
Men need to buy flowers as a sign of wear.
Change is feasible on a weekend.
Free sex is not at A and E.Joy is to be had at the. Doctor`s.
Witch doctors,you mean?
Men need all.
Women have it.

So why all the problems?

Stan’s love life :not dead yet!

enmglish garden

English garden
English garden
English garden

Source: K.
English poppies
English poppies

Stan’s birthday
Stan Brown was in the new conservatory admiring the windows he had just polished with his microfibre cloth.His 82nd birthday was coming up and Mary,his stunningly attractive yet irritable and over educated wife had insisted on celebrating a party and had already baked a hugewhole orange cake[see internet for recipe]He heard a sharp tapping on the door.There lay Annie their next door neighbour spying through the key hole.

“Are you on your own?” she queried tersely.

“No, but I’m suffering from existential anxiety” Stan lied politely.

“Well,I just saw Mary on her second hand but excellent Raleigh shopper bike going to the market or the Charity Shop.”

“Well,I have the cat here”,he spontaneously whispered loudly as if he were free associating for Freud himself

“Let me in,and make me a coffee” “She’s a queer one” the cat Emile thought inconsolably.”where’s my Carnation cat milk?”

“Real or phantasy?” he answered suavely yet civilly.”Won’t it wash off your brand new coral lipstick from Chanel of Paris?” “no to mention your factor 60 sunblock.”

“Bleedin’ hell!” she murmured romantically. to herself,”How does he know it’s Chanel?Is he a spy or what?Is he in M.I.7?”

Stan got some instant coffee and debated whether to add a little LSD to add some mysticism and magic to their morning!No,a breathing exercise would be cheaper he concluded after 39 minutes of obsessiveanxiety

He sat down in his favourite old wooden Habitat chair.

“Did you know Habitat is going b..b bankrupt?” she brightly yet surreptitiously stuttered turning pink with happiness and the menopause.

Suddenly Annie sat down on Stan’slap and began to kiss his right eyelids.

“Careful,my angel!” he muttered.

He was savouring the annoyingly uncommon pleasure when the chair fell to pieces as it frequently did at such times. throwing the elderly but versatile couple down onto the new Mary Quant patterned pure NewZealand lambs wool carpet.Suddenly they heard the peal of Mary’s bicycle bell.Shortly she walked into the room.carrying 78 bags of groceries for the bithday party.

“What is going on now ?”she murmured seductively.

“I’m so sorry,Anne,please accept my apologies,he has this thing about chairs.It’s a fetish,I believe,according to Sinaldo Floyd.””

“Have you got your mobile?” shrieked Stan agonisingly,”I can’t get up.”

“What cannot stand up must forever remain lying down” As my old philosophy tutor at Cambridge used to say,muttered Mary.

“Why,that’s bit extreme,” said Anne uneasily.”MY tutor said “Who cannot speak must forever remain silent.”

“Oh,who was your tutor?” “Elizabeth Ansconbe!” Anne admitted furtively.”Mine was Iris Murdoch!” called out Stan!

Later than soon,slightly, they heard a silent siren.It was the emergencyambulance.

Dave,the paramedic bounded into the room.

“It’s this chair” said Mary urbanely.”Can you mend it for me?My husband can’t manage without it!”

“Anything else,madam?” Dave queried anxiously.

“Any coal to fetch in,tins to open,blocked toilets?”

“Later maybe.”

Dave looked at Anne.”Your eyes look like two deep pools in the Caspian sea.”

he whispered.”Are you on another creative writing course?”she quipped urbanely.

“Yes, we’re on eyes at the moment,what is that eyeshadow you have on.” “This is called winter teal” She admitted uneasily.

“Did you know I’m a transvestite?” he admitted happily her.”Yes”,she replied dishonestly.Anne like to give an impression of omniscience owing to her ontological insecurity and her quizzically lacking theology.

Unfortunately that very frequently gave men the wrong impression.

Mary cried out to Dave,”Get on with it,my sweetie!” So he took out a big tube of glue from his jeans’ pocket and set to work on the chair.

“Oh,dear,Stan looks a bit odder” “!No,he looks prime to me.” “Is he an integer?!” “No, he’s a transcendental real number” “He’s a number all right.”

“Never mind,we’ve just got new wheelie bins so I’ll put him out with the rubbish,”

Mary joked on hearing Anne’s remarks to Dave.

But Stan was not yet dead.He merely had fallen asleep.

He dreamed of his days at Oxgridge University studying illogic and unreason with Rudolphina Catnap,the famous philosopher.Oh,happy days!

Dave made the ladies some Ceylon tea in the fabulous oak kitchen with its pure linen curtains in raspberry beige. and its black enamel sink with matching double oven and microwave.”Why no halogen?”Iris Murdoch might have asked.

“What is a human life,”he pondered.He was studying logic aas well aswriting.

He began to tremble like a leaf inthe wind to use a fresh new cliche.

“Help” he called,”I’m having a panic attack.Hurry I’m dying“

“You can’t have a panic attack,” shouted Mary.

“Paramedics heal themselves.”

“Does God heal those who heal themselves he wondered as he lay under a pile of broken china?”

“Where’s the blooming tea ? called the women politely.

The gay nurses wink

My husband stole my shoes yesterday

As for his own,he’s reluctant to pay.

I hope that’s the end

I shall go round the bend

If my clothes keep on going his way.

 

For  what will the doctors all think

If he wears underwear that’s pale pink?

He will say he’s going blind

And that was all he could find.

Then I shall observe all the gay  nurses wink