The Bell Jar

by Sylvia Plath

Plath’s suicide on February 11, 1963 brought her instant fame in England, where she had made occasional appearances on the BBC and was beginning to be known through her publications.

This novel too has wings—it takes its readers where they need to go, and shows no sign of losing altitude.

It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves.

I was supposed to be having the time of my life.

(I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.)