by Sylvia Plath
The New Yorker at last bought the poem you sent me A WINTER’S TALE for their December 26th issue,* which is pleasant. There is a lot more competition for special seasonal occasions like that, and I wrote the poem as a light piece after that pleasant walk you and Warren and Ted and I took last Christmas time around Beacon Hill.
I also have had two little exercise poems accepted by the home forum page in the CSMonitor as well as two sets of two drawings (old ones) due to come out on the Family Features Page (they may have come out already) so keep on the lookout for them & clip them for me. A total of $46 from the paper this month: little things mount up.
Am very painstakingly studying German two hours a day: a few grammar lessons then translating a Goethe lyric or a page or two from the Kafka stories Warren brought me from Germany: listing all vocabulary and learning it. Hope to speed up after a few weeks at it.
Do write,
much love,
S.
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Wednesday 21 October 1959
TLS, Indiana University
Wednesday morning, Oct. 21
Dear mother,
How nice to get your long newsy letters! I am so pleased to hear you sounding so well and happy. Just be careful and try to avoid colds this season. It is beautiful here now: very blue and frosty, all the pine cones fallen, and the new needles fresh and rosy underfoot. Ted & I are both in excellent health: I don’t know when we’ve been so rested, getting about 9 hours a night.
Have you seen my two sets of drawings on the Youth Page of the Monitor these last Mondays---the 12th and the 19th? Do save them, because I would like copies of the drawings which came out well. The paragraphs were only written to glue them together and give them more likelihood of being printed. Have either my Yaddo or Magnolia Shoals poem come out on the Home Forum Page yet?
I envy you your German lessons. I am very proud you are taking them. I find going so slow when I do it all myself, and then do not have the stimulus of having to be catechized. I look forward to studying the records again when I am home. I can’t speak at all, I am just trying to translate what I read. The records should help speaking. The box from Aunt Frieda was guavas. Weird. Evidently the California fires* are raging right behind her house.
I do hope Warren’s rooming problem works out. It would be inconvenient for him to live at home all the time, but couldn’t he come on weekends, since that’s when the owners carouse? The people sound very unpleasant.
How is Sappho? I hope she gets over her wounds. Was it a squirrel that tore her mouth? Is she staying as small as ever?
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Wednesday 28 October 1959
TLS, Indiana University
October 28: Wednesday
Dear mother,
It was so good to hear your voice yesterday. I loved the gaily decorated birthday telegram. It’s so nice you have those few days around Thanksgiving off, it will be fun shopping and chatting together. I want Ted to feel he can work in Warren’s room while I do most of the minutiae about packing.
No package yet! The notice for a package which I thought might be mine turned out to be an ms. for Ted from his friend Luke. Could you tell me what day and from where you sent the package, (was it to Mrs. Ted Hughes, or Sylvia Hughes?) or perhaps put a tracer on it? Was it registered? I am dying to see it & furious with the American mails.
How did the Gulf Oil bill-slips add up? I hope you could find the envelope.
I’d love to have your advice about something. We have the remainder of our ship-fare, $312, to pay, and I want to get the money from our Wellesley Savings Bank. Now I know I don’t have a checking account there, but could I have them make out a withdrawal check from our acct. to the United States Lines* for that amount, and endorse it? If so, could you send me my Wellesley bankbook and a withdrawal slip (which should also be in the letter file on my desk, if I remember rightly) so I could transact the withdrawal by mail? Don’t they have postpaid envelopes, too, by which I could do this? I didn’t think to bring that bankbook with me.
Today is a beautiful clear invigorating day after a week of steaminess and oppressive rain. Ted & I are so happy, and healthy---our life together seems to be the whole foundation of my being. Your birthday card & letter was wonderful. I do love to hear from Warren & treasure his rare letters. All this hard work now will give him an immense advantage in his professional life. I am so proud of that paper he has been asked to prepare.
I do hope you travel with the Nortons. They are so nice, especially Mildred, with her independent breeziness & adventurous soul. I am growing very pleased with the idea of living in England. The fastness & expense of America is just about 50 years ahead of me. I could be as fond of London as of any other city in the world---and plays, books and all these things are so much more within one’s means. Travel, too. You must never take a ship again, but fly over to visit us.
Last night Polly, the very sweet woman from Brookline (a cousin of Wallace Fowlie)* who is assistant here, and who has had a book of her own poems published,* had two bottles of vin rose for dinner and a birthday cake with candles in honor of my day, which touched me very much.
I want Ted to take me on a trip around England, especially to Wales, and little fishing villages. When you come we should go on a jaunt of some sort, staying at old inns & taking country walks.
Do tell us about the Eliot evening!
Much love,
Sivvy
TO John Lehmann
Thursday 12 November 1959
TLS, University of Texas at Austin
26 Elmwood Road
Wellesley, Massachusetts
U.S.A.
November 12, 1959
Mr. John Lehmann
Editor
THE LONDON MAGAZINE
22 Charing Cross Road
London W.C.2, England
Dear Mr. Lehmann,
I am pleased indeed to hear* you are taking my hospital story, particularly since I have come to agree with your opinions about the other two.* I also agree with you about the title of the story which now seems to me pompous and out-of-place. I would much prefer the title THE DAUGHTERS OF BLOSSOM STREET.* I feel this is simpler, more direct, and makes the point I want about the Secretaries being almost ritual, attendant figures in the euphemistic ceremonies softening the bare fact of death. I hope this title seems a better one.
Ted sent off two stories---THE RAIN HORSE and SUNDAY---a week or more ago by regular mail, I hope you have them by the time you receive this.
Both of us send our warmest good wishes.
Sincerely yours,
Sylvia Plath
TO Judith Reutlinger Anderson*
Monday 23 November 1959
TLS, Private owner*
26 Elmwood Road
Wellesley, Massachusetts
November 23, 1959
Miss Reutlinger
601 Oak Street SE
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Dear Miss Reutlinger,
Thank you for your card.* “Lament” was published several years ago by the New Orleans Poetry Journal,* but I’ve lost track of both the date and number, and I think most libraries don’t carry such very little magazines. I have a copy of the poem to hand, being in the throes of moving and clearing house, so here it is.
LAMENT
The sting of bees took away my father
Who walked in a swarming shroud of wings
And scorned the tick of the falling weather.
Lightning licked in a yellow lather
But missed the mark with snaking fangs:
The sting of bees took away my father.
Trouncing the sea like a raging bather
He rode the flood in a pride of prongs
And scorned the tick of the falling weather.
A scowl of sun struck down my mother,
Tolling her grave with golden gongs,
But the sting of bees took awa
y my father.
He counted the guns of god a bother,
Laughed at the ambush of angels’ tongues,
And scorned the tick of the falling weather.
O ransack the four winds and find another
Man who can mangle the grin of kings;
The sting of bees took away my father
Who scorned the tick of the falling weather.
*********************************************
No, I haven’t published a volume of poems yet, but I hope to manage this in a year or so if fates and editors are willing.
All good wishes,
Sylvia Plath
TO Rachel MacKenzie
Saturday 28 November 1959
TLS, New York Public Library
26 Elmwood Road
Wellesley, Massachusetts
November 28, 1959
Miss Rachel MacKenzie
25 West 43rd Street
New York 36, New York
Dear Miss MacKenzie,
I’m happy to hear* you are taking THE NET MENDERS.*
Here are a few suggestions for placing the poem in the title or subtitle: THE SPANISH NET MENDERS, THE NET MENDERS OF BENIDORM, or THE NET MENDERS (Benidorm, Spain). Any of these would be fine with me, or any rearrangement of them.
With all good wishes.
Sincerely yours,
Sylvia Plath
TO Rachel MacKenzie
Saturday 28 November 1959
TLS, New York Public Library
26 Elmwood Road
Wellesley, Mass.
November 28, 1959
Dear Miss MacKenzie,
I hope it won’t lessen the chances of these poems* to follow so soon on the heels of the last.*
I did want you to have a look at them.
Sincerely,
Sylvia Plath
TO Robie Macauley*
Saturday 28 November 1959
TLS, Kenyon College
26 Elmwood Road
Wellesley, Massachusetts
November 28, 1959
Mr. Robie Macauley
THE KENYON REVIEW
Gambier, Ohio
Dear Mr. Macauley:
I am happy to hear you are taking “The Colossus” and “The Bee-Keeper’s Daughter” for the Review.*
Here are a few notes. I graduated from Smith College, and from Cambridge University (where I spent 1955-57 on a Fulbright grant). Poems of mine have appeared in The Atlantic Monthly, Harper’s, The Hudson Review, The New Yorker, The Partisan Review, Poetry (Chicago), The Sewanee Review and elsewhere.
After December 9th my address will be:
c/o Hughes
The Beacon
Heptonstall Slack
Hebden Bridge, (near Halifax)
Yorkshire, England.
Sincerely,
Sylvia Plath
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Sunday 13 December 1959
ALS with envelope on SS United States stationery, Indiana University
Sunday
December 13
Dear mother,
Ted & I are sitting at desks in the writing alcove after lunch. A grey whitecapped sea is washing past the window & the rope are all spread out on the main deck ready for the stop in Le Havre some time tonight. We’re supposed to get to Southampton around 5 pm tomorrow & I hope all our baggage is there to greet us in good order – the baggage-man at New York told us our Hold baggage was luckily just one cubic foot under the limit, or we’d have had to pay the expensive excess space rates. We were amazed we had by chance come so close to our allotted total.
I have just finished reading Zivago,* which took me the whole trip & proved a good travel-book as it is all written in such short episodes you can break off anywhere. I was, on the whole, disappointed in it – never really felt involved with any of the characters which I think is a fatal flaw in a novel. The poetic descriptive sections about weather & seasons I thought very good.
My last night of sleep & good food at home cured my cold, it seems, & I have been well ever since. Ship-space is rather confined without the decks open – we’ve been out & walking around whenever possible, but except for one blue day the weather’s been overcast – warmish, but wet.
Our cabin* is comfortable enough – on a noisy deck, the same as the diningroom (which is convenient) which keeps it busy all day, & at night we are next to several roomsful of girls who dance & drink till 4 & 5 am & come home screaming & laughing up & down the halls: there’s always a bunch of these. So we take naps after breakfast & lunch which pieces out our sleep. It seems we spend most of our time eating & sleeping. There seem very few Americans on the trip. The ship goes in to Bremerhaven, so there are lots of Germans, master-builders, evangelists (one who by mistake thought she had our room put a sign up in front of a bottle of gin & an ash tray installed by a man who also thought he had our room – reading: ‘Bittè, rausch nicht und trink nicht’ – ‘These are deadly sins. Now she realizes her mistake, she continually greets us ‘God Bless You’ & ‘Isn’t Jesus wonderful?’) Lots of very pretty children about, people spending Christmas in Europe with parents & relatives. Our tablemates are two nice young Danish farmers who have been on a farm-exchange program in California.*
The dramamine is a great help. I take about two pills a day, & feel no queasiness at all – I’m sure I would if I didn’t have the pills, for the boat rolls & pitches very noticeably even when the sea isn’t very rough & we are literally rolled from one side to another in bed. Ted is a wonderful comfort. He seems to need no dramamine at all & we walk out on deck whenever possible. Had one night of a fine moon & bright stars.
We’re extremely eager to hear in detail of your interview last Wednesday and hope a letter is waiting for us at Ted’s mother’s house, where we should arrive Tuesday, or Wednesday at the latest if we’re held up in London.
Do find out about forwarding our mail – I’m sure there must be some solution, for it would have to be forwarded even if we had no relatives to put on new stamps & I hope you can do it without charge.
The package for you (& Warren) from the Music Box* should arrive by December* 20th, or 21st the latest.
We are both in good health, eating wisely & modestly – lots of fresh & stewed fruit & milk. The food is so-so – Some things very good, too many steamed dishes which have waited too long on the counters. Last night, at the ‘Gala Dinner’ we had a nice rare steak, lobster newberg, dates & figs.
Well, we are off to find some fresh air & will write again as soon as we get to Ted’s parents house.
Love to you, Warren & Sappho –
Sivvy
TO Joseph, Dorothy, Robert, & Nancy Benotti
Sunday 13 December 1959*
ALS in greeting card,* Indiana University
Christmas Greetings / and Best Wishes / for a Happy / New Year
with love to / all the Benottis / Sylvia & Ted
Dear Dotty & Joe & Bobby & Nancy –
We’re writing this from the middle of the Atlantic, one day out of Southampton. Have spent most of our time eating & sleeping & me taking dramamine, as the ship rolls & pitches surprisingly although the seas don’t look too rough. We had one lovely clear night with moon & bright stars, but it’s been overcast since – warm enough to take brisk deck-walks.
Our evening with you was so happy & memorable – a real occasion, & we enjoyed every minute of it. We’ll spend Christmas with Ted’s parents in Yorkshire & then go apartment-hunting in London.
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 17 December 1959
ALS in greeting card,* Indiana University
Merry / Christmas / Happy / New Year
with love / Sivvy & Ted
Thursday
December 17,
Dearest mother –
How lovely it
was to come here & find the letters waiting – so thoughtful of you to send them on. But please don’t bother to send anything airmail except for your own letters & what may look like an important missive from the New Yorker – (I’m dying to see my NYorker poem* – does it look well?) You mustn’t spend so much on stamps! See if you can forward sea-mail without adding anything.
Your Christmas package arrived the day after we came to the Beacon, looking very exciting – we’ll save it for Christmas eve or morning – whenever the family has its Christmas. We stayed overnight with friends of Ted’s in London – Danny Huws* (the one whose poems we’ve sold)* who is studying to be a curator of old Welsh & Celtic manuscripts, his very German wife Helga* & their exquisite 2 year-old daughter Magdelen.* The wife speaks German to the child & is, I think, very strict with her – the father speaks Celtic. Supposedly she will be trilingual. Myself, I think one other language is plenty. The child says ‘Auf’ & ‘Mehr’ but little else. She wears wonderful wooly smocks & amuses herself beautifully.
Both of us were exhausted when we got up here, having slept so little on the boat. Mercifully I was not at all seasick. We had tea at Ted’s Uncle Walt’s & he drove us up. We slept 12 hours the first night & a good long time last night. All our baggage & thinks have arrived & seem in good condition. It’s been raining & blowing out, black sky all day. So we are sitting in great armchairs by roaring coal fires, very cosily. Olwyn, Ted’s sister, is home from her theater job in Paris – her hair newly cut & curled looking handsome, chic, extremely nice. I like her a great deal.
Right after Christmas, before New Year’s, we’ll look for a comfortable apartment in London – in easy walking distance of one of the wonderful big London parks, quiet, sunny, with a good kitchen. And I’ll get a doctor & hospital arranged for. I doubt if we’ll go to Corsica at all. I had a feeling we wouldn’t. Ted’s as tired of traveling as I am.
I’m eager to set up our own place again. Ted’s mother is such an awful cook – heavy indigestible pastries, steamed vegetables, overdone meat. I’ll get my own kitchen shelf here & we’ll shop for supplies tomorrow so I can make a few decent cookies & meatloaf & so on. How I miss your kitchen & our family tradition of wonderful food lovingly prepared! There’s not even enough flour & sugar here for a cake! Everything very untidy, pots never quite clean, oven bubbling with old fat – a lot of bustle & nothing but burnt offerings. Olwyn – much more sophisticated & critical than even I – is a nice ally. We cook our own things. As soon as I’m in my own kitchen all will be serene, digestible & tidy again. Well, for a 10 day visit I can overlook such matters. The main thing is that the family is loving & closeknit.