If I was granted one wish, I wouldn’t end world hunger. I wouldn’t bring back Heath Ledger. I would, however, time travel back to the day I decided to read “The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath and tell myself not to.
If you haven’t read “The Bell Jar,” you’ve definitely heard of it. And if you haven’t heard of it, consider yourself lucky.
When I was a freshman in highschool, I picked up “The Bell Jar” for a fun, easy read. I had read some of Plath’s poetry in my English class and really enjoyed it. But I had no idea what kind of Pandora’s Box I was unlocking by choosing this book.
I blame “The Bell Jar” for making me an absolutely insufferable teenager. I blame it still for the lasting misery that it has wreaked upon me. This article is my final plea to all of the hot and tormented girls out there who might be thinking about reading this book: save yourself the existential crisis and do not read this book.
There seems to be a recent spike in young women reading this book. Social media influencers are marketing this book to girls who may feel misunderstood or struggle with their own form of mental illness.
Here’s what’s up: “The Bell Jar” is not a bad book. It is poignant, relatable and masterfully written. I remember reading this book and feeling understood in a way I hadn’t been before. But not in a cute way, rather in an “I-am-unwell-and-angsty” sort of way.
For those who have no idea what “The Bell Jar” is about, the story follows aspiring writer Esther Greenwood as she navigates a summer internship for a women’s magazine. Esther struggles with her mental health and attempts suicide multiple times throughout the book.
The ending of the book doesn’t provide complete resolution or much hope for Esther’s well-being, leaving the reader with questions and uncertainty. This book is not a feel-good read, but rather a bleak depiction of a woman who doesn’t know where she fits in the world.
Plath’s glamorization of suicide is problematic for obvious reasons. She writes about suicide as if it is the ultimate objective, the most painless way out of a painful existence. Esther’s character is dynamic and intelligent but still apotheosizes death. Painting a successful woman as dually miserable confirms a dangerous stigma that desirable women are made more interesting by suicide idealation.
Around halfway through the book, Esther sits in a bathtub and contemplates slitting her wrists.
Plath writes,“I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surface gaudy as poppies.”
Plath, a skilled poet, uses prose to glorify a topic that should not be approached with any sort of glamor. She writes Esther’s lust for death as a beautiful, cathartic release. This language is harmful, especially considering the audience the book is pushed upon.
A big frustration for me about “The Bell Jar” gaining momentum is how young women are making it part of their personalities. It seems as if modern media is romanticizing mentally-ill women and deeming them more interesting and different than healthy women.
It worries me that the audience picking up this book seems to be girls who are young, easily impressionable and sensitive. Given the heavy topics of the novel, this book shouldn’t be pushed to young adult readers. Why is adolescent innocence being threatened like this? Is it to curate a new wave of girls who think about their mortality?
Maybe I’m just being elitist because I feel like I read it before this new movement of social media obsession. Maybe I just want to gatekeep “The Bell Jar” because it is admittedly a good book.
But if I see this book in an Instagram reel titled something like “book recommendations for ‘thought’ daughters” one more time, I will go extinct.
Lexi Lynn can be reached at [email protected].
