The Bell Jar

While I was reading The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, I oscillated constantly between feeling as if the main character was actually describing what goes on in my head, and feeling completely alienated from this unfortunate individual named Esther. Her struggle with depression and suicide is something that everyone can relate to on some level - the ennui, the fatigue, the self-destructive urges - and yet is too profoundly disturbed for a happy, mentally healthy person to fully comprehend.

Esther is a fascinating girl, who sees flaws in society as clearly as she sees flaws in herself. Throughout her struggle, she studies books on psychology and identifies with hopeless cases she reads about. Her courage carries over into her evaluations of feminism, old-fashioned views on male and female roles, and mysogynism. Her thoughts reflect Plath's political views to some degree, but the book isn't exactly feminist propaganda.

As well as issues of feminism, this book reflects psychiatric technology and techniques of the day. Published in 1971, and based on a slightly earlier time period, the Esther's experiences with electric-shock therapy, multiple psychiatrists, and various mental institutions are all fascinating depictions of how mental illness was dealt with in the twentieth century.

The Bell Jar is not a cheery read, but as someone who is fascinated by both history and mental illness, I loved it. Esther and her story are not easily forgotten, and Sylvia Plath's writing makes The Bell Jar a valuable piece of modern literature.

Like the Red Panda

The deep emotions surrounding suicide make it difficult to write about, but Andrea Seigel painted an eloquent portrait of a suicidal teen in Like the Red Panda.

This lonely story is written in the first person, and is noticeably void of melodramatic histerics that sometimes saturate literature about suicide and depression. Stella, the protagonist, is not only isolated from the people around her, but from her own emotions. Chilly descriptions of the world and matter-of-fact analyses of her feelings leave no doubt about Stella's ennui. Academically successful, attractive, and finding no meaning in the world, Stella goes about committing suicide like most people go about buying a house.

The only issue with Like the Red Panda is the seeming lack of reason for suicide. Stella may explain how everything in life seems arbitrary, but she still has a friend and a lover and some desire to please others. She doesn't hate herself, or have any profound shame or guilt. She seems like someone who should major in philosophy, maybe spend a lot of time studying exhistentialism, not someone who wants to end their life. The instinctive desire to live is not a weak impulse, and there are millions of bored, melancholy individuals (such as myself) who do not seriously consider committing suicide.

It's very possible that the nuances of Stella's mental illness went over my head, and that her suicidal intentions were perfectly logical. I'd recommend this book, if only for it's thought-provoking nature.

The Overacheivers: The Secret Lives of Driven Kids

Do you long for stress in your life? Do you ever have days full of nothing but leisurely fun and meaningful pursuits? You should read The Overachievers; The Secret Lives of Driven Kids, by Alexandra Robbins, and chase away those feelings of calm and contentment.

This book, assigned summer reading for high school students entering their first AP English course, is more anxiety-producing than the most suspenseful thriller. It's more tedious than a documentary on the manufacturing of beige carpet, and about as long as your average Harry Potter book. The characters aren't flat, exactly, but their emotions are relegated to ambition, anxiety, and exhaustion. Anything irrelevant to the college application process is omitted, and every college councelor visit and extra curricular is described in detail.

So if you aren't one of those unfortunate high school students who has this as assigned reading, let this serve as a warning: do not read The Overachievers. You will not be surprised, intrigued, or informed. You'll be bored, nervous and feeling vicariously over-worked.

The Chosen One

Of the many books I've read this week (thank God its summer), the only one that has brought out any strong emotion was The Chosen One, by Carol Lynch Williams. It's the story of a thirteen-year-old girl who lives in a polygamist compound, and finds out she must marry her uncle to fulfill the Prophet's vision. The Prophet is the leader of the community, and in his sacred vision, he "saw" Kyra, the brave protagonist, becoming the seventh wife of her father's 63-year-old brother.

Naturally, Kyra wants to escape, but in a world where thugs called the God Squad have killed and beaten would-be escapees many times before, this is no easy goal. And the more Kyra resists the will of the Prophet, the higher the stakes get, and the more they watch her. She has allies - the boy she loves, Joshua, and the owner of a traveling library named Patrick. But when these allies fall to the power of the Prophet and his violent supporters, she has to keep trying by herself.

Naturally, this book reminded me of the Texas polygamist cult that was raided in recent years. The enormous numbers of children, the long hair and dresses for girls, the adherence to an extreme version of Christianity - it was all the same. But when the Texas cult was raided, I looked on with some sympathy. It seemed as though these people, with their odd way of life, were not exactly wrong or bad, just different. But in The Chosen One, the blatant sexism, the rejection from the compound of some boys (to leave enough wives for the others), and the near-worship of community leaders is all clearly wrong. There is nothing natural about the violence, the marriage of young teen girls to old men who have wives already, the physical discipline used on both children and women, or the deitous power of the so-called Prophet and his Apostles.

One wonders how much creative liscence the author took. How accurate is the portrayal of violence? Do some community members really live in decadant luxury, while most live in trailers? Would a young girl really be asked to marry her elderly uncle? Do they really go to such extreme measures to prevent escape? Of course, if this were an Amish community, the answer would be no; they just live as though in the past, certainly without polygamy, and they send their young people into the "real world" for a year of their adolescence, to make sure they really want to be Amish. But what about cults, like the one in Texas? It's hard to know for sure. But as someone who rarely condemns a type of worship, or a lifestyle, that is different from my own, I can honestly say that this kind of polygamy on an isolated compound is disgusting, cruel, and wrong.

This is possibly why this book made such an impression on me; it forced me to make a judgement about a group of people, something I normally avoid at all costs. I would recommend reading The Chosen One, and see what you think - is it accurate? Is it objective? Is this lifestyle, under any circumstances, acceptable? Not that I would find fault with women and children born into it, or even men who would have a hard time escaping; it is the leaders and founders of such cults who should be ashamed of their selfishness, violence, and un-Christian behavior.

Brave New World

I've been swamped with school - sorry about the time between posts! Anyways, I recently read Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, which I thought was a really valuable satire, and surprisingly relevant (considering it was written about 1930).



In Brave New World, although the human race is capable of creating perfectly healthy humans (with a mistake here or there, but still), they create an entire class with subhuman mental capabilities, and other classes that were less strong and intelligent than they could have been.


This raises two questions: does some one always have to be on the bottom? And is it the same to have disabilities imposed by the system, or imposed by chance?


In the book they explain that for stability, there must be some classes who have less power and privilege than others. There are plenty of economic and political ideas that support or disprove this concept. The latter question, however, is more difficult to talk about. If we had complete control over things like severe autism and Downs Syndrome, would it be wrong for the powers that be to mandate that a certain number of "disabled" people be created? Is that heartless, or copying nature? On a personal level, the concept of poisoning embryos (as they do in Brave New World) to stunt their growth and development disgusts me. This is a horrid example of how science can be used in a way that it should never be used. But when it comes to controlling a planet, is it necessary for some people to have lower intelligence, so that they aren't discontented with boring, simple jobs? Is this doing them a favor - if someone has to do these jobs - to "condition" them to be content? Or is it a heinous, artificial imitation of one of nature's faults?


Unlike many satires, which ridicule one or two simple issues or individuals, Brave New World raises questions that are almost impossible to answer. If you haven't read it, I would. Even after finishing it, I am still questioning things in the world around me that I previously didn't give much thought to - everything from religion, to self-punishment, to marriage's place in society. In my opinion, that makes it a book that was worth my time.

A Moon for the Misbegotten

So on a poll a while back, the vote was for me to read & review this play. I've been ridiculously busy, but here it is, ladies and gentlemen: A Moon For the Misbegotten, by Eugene O'Neill.



This brief, all-American play probably would've been boring to see, but I truly enjoyed reading it. In the italicized phrases interspersed in the dialogue, as well as describing set and characters, there was a great deal of imagery and emotion that enriched the experience. Unlike many plays, which are simply lacking when put on paper, A Moon for the Misbegotten was a lively and thought provoking book.


Since this play has a relatively simple plot, and very little action, the true artistry is in the characters and their developments. There is only one flat character, the pompous neighbor named Harder, who adds an element of comedy and is as flat as my own pompous next-door neighbors seem to be in real life. The rest of the characters are warm, regretful, anxious, proud, sinful, loyal, and loving. Josie, the only female character, is at once proud of her strenghth and ashamed of her great size, which are almost universal sentiments among women. Jim Tyrone is both a cynic and a romantic, and Hogan is a hard-nosed, heavy-drinking, big-hearted old man. The three of them, with their all of their hope and insurmountable baggage, spend the time in the play in a mixture of intimate comfort and convoluted loneliness.


It may be personal to me, or a result of O'Neill's superior characterization, but I found myself relating to everyone in the story on a deep personal level. Josie's pride and love, Hogan's craftiness and underlying good intentions, Tyrone's dislike for himself and the world... there were so many similarities that I felt as though the play were a direct part of my life as I read it. I don't know if others have had similar experiences reading this, but I suggest you try - it's only about 150 pages - and I wouldn't be surprised if you find yourself identifying with the characters in this brilliant play.


Happy Reading!

Flash Burnout

Young Adult Fiction seems to be my main source of reading material recently; when I have more time, I'll read and report on either more classic literature, or something new and controversial. In the meantime, here's a quick and colorful book. It's called Flash Burnout, by L. K. Madigan. The main character is a guy in high school who's also the narrator, which is why I say it's colorful; his thoughts are what I imagine actually goes through the heads of the guys around me. If you're too young, too old, or too sheltered, you might have to Urban Dictionary some of the terms he uses.

This whole book is tied together by photography, which is the narrator/protagonist's passion. In the story, his best female friend is having trouble with her mother, a meth addict, and things are heating up with his high-maintenance girl friend. He's a pretty normal kid, and the book is fun to read, although the plot probably won't get your heart racing too often. It's written by a woman (this took extensive research to find out, since nothing in the book specified) so all it tells us is that all women (well, okay, me and her) assume the most of the same things about the thoughts and feelings of teen guys.

The one thing I got out of reading this, to be honest, was a really strong desire to either take up photography or befriend someone who already has. Or both. But if you need some entertainment, I'd recommend Flash Burnout.