I don’t really have too much to say about this book. It was pretty good. It’s a third-person narrative of Sylvia Plath’s inner life during her divorce from Ted Hughes, which is kind of interesting in and of itself since the whole thing is Sylvia’s inner monologue… except told in the third person. As if someone else were peering into her head and then writing down what was going on in the there.
Honey, bees, and apples are recurring themes – to the point where in the end, of someone mentioned “honey apples” or “the apples so ripe they almost turned into bees” or something, I was going to lose it. Thankfully, it’s a relatively short book.
Yup. Sylvia Plath. There she is. Not a bad book.
I honestly wish I had more to say about it, but I really don’t. It was a quick read, I read parts of it in the tub, which was nice. I guess I could say that while there’s a lot of surface action, there isn’t much depth. Back-story is kept to a minimum. The characters come off as two-dimensional at best, even Sylvia, and the kids are certainly little more than baby-doll props wandering around the book being adorable and whatnot. I guess Kate Moses is trying to illustrate that motherhood is hard, but it really comes off as “Awww, look at the kiddos!”
Oh. My one real complaint. I don’t think Sylvia’s inner monologue would have used British-isms. I’ve been thinking hard about this, actually. Would she have said “nappy” and not “diaper” since she was living in the UK? And I really have to go with no. Cultural words like that are too ingrained. I would never think to say “pram” instead of “buggy” even if I was living on Mars. It’s a buggy! That’s what it’s called! So. Yes. Should have used the American words since this is inside Sylvia’s head.
And should not have mentioned apples so many times. Other than that, it’s great.