"A Comparison"

     I have started reading a collection of Sylvia Plath's work-- not her poetry, but her essays.  "Dark" poetry has never really been my thing.  However, I am always interested in how authors write about writing.  I am fascinated by the process and like seeing how it compares to what goes on in my mind when I'm writing.  This particular collection, which contains the short story "Johnny Panic" was edited in 1979, more than a decade after Plath's death.  What really caught my eye was the introduction, a short, but telling one, written by Plath's former husband, Ted Hughes.  At first, I read the intro with a sort of cold distance.  I don't know too much about the two poets' marriage, but from what I remember from undergraduate school, Hughes was portrayed as an unfaithful misogynist. 

While reading, it struck me how critically and cooly Hughes wrote of his former wife's work.  That just seemed to confirm for me what a bad person this Hughes guy really was.  However, as he continued, I started to realize that Sylvia Plath was not an easy woman to live with.  She was critical towards family and friends, which stemmed from her insecurities within herself.  She obsessed over her writing, wanting to obtain an unrealistic level of success that allowed no time for a healthy or happy life.  Towards the end of her life, she was too self-involved with depression to even accomplish much with the pen.  And she always thought she was failing, comparing herself with other popular female writers of the time.  It is hard to believe, as I read her beautifully written essays and think, "Why can't I do that?"  I guess we all love to hold ourselves to an unreachable standard.