The Bell Jar

I wanted to write a book review for The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, but I just couldn't. There's so much more I wanted to say about how it impacted me and my life, as well as my own work. This wasn't just another book to review for me, it's one that resonated with me in a way many books don't.

I discovered Sylvia Plath through a few quotes being passed around Tumblr on dark literature and poetry blogs. I delved briefly into a summary of who she was, and after looking up her books, I grabbed a copy of a compilation of her unabridged journals — the ones that weren't destroyed or lost. I had a gut feeling that I could understand Sylvia in a way I don't often relate with many other authors, especially when it comes to experiences with severe mental illness and suicide.

I decided to read The Bell Jar before reading any further in her journals, and I'm glad I did. Initially, I wanted to read them one after the other, because it was a rare chance for me to see an author write like I often write; autobiographical fiction.

I struggled for a while, and I still struggle, to properly fit the stories I write under the guise of fiction into a proper genre. I've been told my writing is different and definitely weird, but weird in a good way, and I think that's because I'm not setting out initially to write fiction. I wanted to write a memoir, or a series of memoirs. I wanted to write honestly about, and share, my life story as a trans trauma survivor who is plural, meaning I have alters and spirit guides, and who also has severe mental illnesses.

I also knew that I was a nobody, so who would care about my life story? I've seen advice to not write any memoirs until you've published several works of fiction, poetry, or whatever, and they garner a good amount of attention. Then people might care.

So, one day at the start of the pandemic in 2020, right after lock downs started and isolation began to creep up like a ghost, inspiration hit me out of nowhere: Just spin it into a work of fiction.

I did exactly what Sylvia did. I took the events of my life regarding my struggles with trauma and mental illness, I changed names and adjusted some things to flow better, and I finally told the first part of my life's story in between the lines of a greater, fictional, purpose for my suffering. I went further than Sylvia by adding a side story with Heaven and Hell in between, angels and demons, but the sentiment is the same. I went on to write the second part of my story in 2022 in a similar way, and I'm planning to publish that part this year.

After reading The Bell Jar, which I found hard to put down, I saw so much of myself in Sylvia and in the book. With the honest way she portrayed her mental breakdown, and the way she described her symptoms such as dissociation, irritation, depression, flat emotions, and other things I'm all too familiar with, I felt more and more confident about my own writing that I was so self-conscious about. I found a love for The Bell Jar I will always hold dear.

I feel like now, after reading Sylvia's autobiographical fiction, that it's the same category mine belongs in, too. It's just so strikingly similar that I found myself mourning the fact that she's gone, that I will never get to see more of her life written down in the beautiful and honest way I haven't seen anyone else do. I will never see more of a kindred spirit, of stories that I have been needing to find my whole life that I thought I wouldn't ever find.

I'm just in awe tonight after taking it all in. In awe that I finally found an author who I so deeply resonate with that I will, for the rest of my life, carry her in my heart. If I seem emotional, it's because I am. I've spent so long feeling like my books just don't fit, that they're too strange, that no one will take them seriously because you hear the same things all the time when becoming an author; is it easily placed on a shelf? What about popular tropes? Read and imitate others. Compare your books to others (called 'comp titles'), and if you can't, it probably won't get read because it's too niche. Design your book and make it feel like others in your genre.

I couldn't find fantasy or horror books like mine because my books don't neatly fit in either category, despite having the elements. I wasn't finding anything I could relate to in my genres because I've written autobiographical fiction, not a planned fantasy or horror novel. I had to pick genres though, and as they're marketed as fiction, fantasy and horror were the best matches.

I'm glad I stopped trying to submit to publishing houses. I'm glad I stopped trying to find an agent. I feel a lot better about all of the rejections that left me feeling depressed and hopeless, despite the strength I tried to have. I'm glad I decided to self-publish and have full control over my own narrative, even if that has cost more than I can usually afford.

And I'm glad I decided to learn more about Sylvia Plath and read her only novel, The Bell Jar. Some within the publishing industry once said her book was juvenile, among other insults, which couldn't be further from the truth since it's now considered a classic. It just goes to show that it's okay to take risks, be true to yourself, and don't be afraid to get weird and just write what is close to your heart. Damn being marketable. Damn changing things to fit in.

I've struggled with thoughts of suicide and have made attempts in the past, like Sylvia, although she lost the fight. I've been through some horrific, dark days with severe mental illness. Although reading Sylvia Plath is a bit triggering for me, it's given me a sense of solidarity. And it's given me a bit of inspiration to keep on with my own projects where I'd started to lose hope.