Last quarter, this was one of my favorite weeks out of the whole year. Christmas, and its related delights, hung its sugarplums almost within reach, and the whole house was quiet, as people with much more stressful schedules than mine buried their heads in their books, like ostriches bury their heads in sand. I was left to my own devices - specifically, my laptop and cell phone - to Pinterest away to my little naive heart's content. I had no cares for Finals, as I already knew I had them in the bag. All Dead Week was, for me, was a waiting game.
And now, it's morphed into something completely different.
Frantically jotting notes, tearing through past papers, trying to figure out exactly what was going on in that one tricky book section, and moreover, trying to avoid thinking about what kind of detrimental effect failing would have on my steadily-climbing GPA, are all I know now. Sleep is a luxury I too often abuse; food, the same.
However, instead of freaking out over it like I am wont to do, I wrapped myself in the pages of one of my favorite novels: The Bell Jar. I had known for a while that I wanted to profile it for a College Fashion article, and I thought this would be a great way to take out multiple birds with one stone, instead of taking out multiple UW peers with one angry toss of my increasingly non-supportive laptop.
For those who have not yet been sucked into the wild and chaotic mind of nineteen-year-old Esther Greenwood, The Bell Jar is the tumultuous tale of a prize-winning self-loather, whose disbelief in her own beauty and talent give way to a crippling depression, suicide attempt, and internment in a psychiatric facility in the 1950s. The novel holds a tragic legacy all its own, by way of the history of its author, Sylvia Plath, who wrote the book semi-autobiographically, and successfully committed suicide about a month after it was published for the first time.
The quintessentially mid-century feminist masterpiece tore open a new space for the discussion of the taboo topic of mental health issues in modern communication, and it is thanks to her expert descriptions of the ultimate bleakness of the human mind, that allow for more current, frank discussion of public issues like depression and suicide, as well as female sexuality and career and life opportunities for women.
The Bell Jar is one of my favorites for several reasons:
1. The narrative style is unique and engaging - being told in a surprisingly-organized narrative format, portraying what is a tragedy with uncharacteristic sarcasm, humor, and irony,
2. Which additionally enthralls the reader by way of riveting, fast-paced turns of events that simultaneously enrapture you in the plot further, while also proving to be as equally disorienting as engaging,
3. The topic is one not often discussed in modern literature - and definitely never communicated with such vividly excruciating detail,
4. And the novel simply fell into my lap (courtesy of my mother) at a time in my life when I really, really needed to feel like I had an ally. I did in Esther.
In adapting it for College Fashion, I had naively assumed that my own passion for the literature would be transcribed easily into an article. I forgot completely about how, despite the novel's success, issues like female empowerment by way of sexuality, and the precarious mental states of depression and anxiety, could reduce any competent person's conversation to a smoldering pile of wreckage like the twin taboo time bombs they are.
The first comment - quickly deleted by the swaddling comfort of my Editor-in-Chief - was received, and unfortunately, internalized just as quickly as it was removed. From someone named Stephanie, whose network address betrayed a link to Penn State's campus:
Of course, it was gratifying when one of my detractors later admitted to never having actually read the novel (then WHY were you even involved in the discussion in the FIRST place?), those mild feelings of triumph were negated immediately when I received a second comment from our old friend, Stephanie: "WOW i like how you deleted my comment. Once again, THIS WAS TERRIBLE. and you clearly didnt understand the bell jar"
Wow, indeed. Out of the nineteen comments on the article, five were posted (as in, were deemed inoffensive enough to actually be posted) by those who disagreed with my work, three were posted by me defending my work, and nine were posted by those who loved my work. (If you can tell that the math doesn't add up, another posted about how she would read the book for the issues presented, regardless of my adaptation, and another was simply a rather impassioned plea for me to profile S.E. Hinton's The Outsiders).
SO, what was initially a method for me to achieve a happier attitude as well as strike out a deadline for CF, ended up opening a much larger and more impressive can of snakes than I had ever intended to belabor myself with during one of the most stressful times of Winter Quarter. I can't truly say that I'm happy with what I did, because I depend entirely too much on the good opinion of my peers. Maybe it's just because I know that this year's crop of Daffodil Princesses trooped to libraries across Pierce County today - one of my favorite Princess appearances! - but I feel like I'm missing out on a little lovin'.
Well, I'm certainly not finding it in any of these study notes.
Read my College Fashion article on the Bell Jar, and weigh the issues for yourself, here:
http://www.collegefashion.net/inspiration/looks-from-books-fashion-inspired-by-the-bell-jar/
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