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Sylvia Plath childhood was riddled with ups and downs. Although she realized her gift for writing poetry at an early age, she suffered the death of her father as well. Many other aspects of her childhood, whether positive or negative, never left her mind and inspired some of her greatest works later in life.
"I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man,
O You-- Not God but a swastika."
Reuben, Paul P. "Chapter 10: Sylvia Plath." PAL: Perspectives in American Literature- A Research and Reference Guide. Web. 03 Dec. 2014.
Seaman, Donna. "Sylvia Path: A Literary Life." Booklist. 01 Jul. 1999: 1918. eLibrary. Web. 03 Dec. 2014.
"Sylvia Plath." 2014. The Famous People website. Web. 03 Dec. 2014.
Sylvia, Plath. Works of Sylvia Plath: Sylvia Plath's Life. MacMillan General Reference, 1963. eLibrary. Web. 03 Dec. 2014.
"Neurotic Poets." - Sylvia Plath. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Dec. 2014.
Dubois, Matt. "Assessing Sylvia Plaths Poetry." Humanities360. N.p., 27 Feb. 2007. Web. 04 Dec. 2014.
• Born October 27, 1932
• Jamaica Plain, Boston, Massachusetts
• Family of four
• Both parents were educators and passed down their “deep involvement with books” (Seaman)
• Showed interest in writing since an early age
• Was a lively child
• Grew up in Winthrop (a seaside town near Boston) mostly around her maternal grandparents
Born in Boston, Massachusetts 1906 –1994
Plath's semi-autobiographical novel The Bell Jar, mother-daughter relationship
“I hate her.” Her doctor says, “I suppose you do.”
Died at 87, from Alzheimer's disease in Massachusetts.
• Her poetry was influenced by her childhood proximity to the ocean
• She later said, "I sometimes think my vision of the sea is the clearest thing I own" (Sylvia)
• Also said that she lived happily believing "not in God nor Santa Claus, but in mermaids" (Sylvia)
No sea-change decks the sunken shank of bone
That chucks in the backtrack of the wave;
Though the mind like an oyster labors on and on,
A grain of sand is all we have.
-Excerpt from "Two Lovers and a Beachcomber by the Real Sea"