The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume 1
Page 21
Our house,* I’m sure, is the friendliest. A homely maternal Jewish Girl from Boston Latin school offered to start me off knitting a simple sweater, and I’m going to get some of the freshmen to teach me how to play Bridge. Mr. Loungway was oh, so right about – “The little things.”
In fact, so far, I’ve gotten along with everyone in the house. It’s good to see more faces familiar to me. I love my room, my location, and am firmly convinced that the whole episode here is up to me. I have no excuse for not getting along in all respects. Just to find a balance is the first problem.
We had our college assembly this morning. I never came so close to crying since I’ve been here when I saw the professors, resplendent with colors, medals & emblems, march across the stage and heard the adorable Mr. Wrights stimulating adress. I still can’t believe I’m a Smith Girl!
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 28 September 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thursday
Dear Mummy,
Well, another chair has been added to my room free of charge by some generous senior. I now have three. Clothes up here are strictly informal. If I get a white cardigan for some such occasion as Birthday or Xmas, I can wear it over my white dress and not have to worry about the WHITE UNIFORM.
For spring, Bermuda wool plaid shorts are the rage. Dungarees will be my garb for week days the rest of the fall – with pedal pushers for special occasions. I could use a few warm sweaters come Xmas. But nothing is necessary now---I have everything. Most girls are even more careful than I with money so far. I shall do my best to keep a tight budget.
Love,
Sivvy
PS. Have you mailed my baby – Den of Lions?*
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 28 September 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thursday
3:30 P.M.
Dear Mother . . .
Well, I passed the hygiene exam! Patsy* did not, but Louise* did. So that nasty little requirement is off. I’m switching to French 16 . . . I’m not sure just how wise that is, but Patsy & Lou are taking it, and the 13 course, judging from my 1st period today seems deceptively easy. This Junior year abroad sounds terrific; but I don’t know whether or not I should think of it. Now that I’ve switched, I’m almost tempted to turn back to 13. Botany, the only other class I’ve had as yet, should not only prove to be fun, but interesting. I bought the textbook for $2 less from a girl in the house. I can’t wait till classes* get underway, I also can’t wait till Who’s Who* comes out---Maybe I’ll get a date then---not that boys interest me in the least.
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 28 September 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thurs. night
Dear Mummy,
The most utterly divine thing has happened to me. I was standing innocently in the parlor having coffee after supper when a senior said sotto voce in my ear “I have a man all picked out for you.” I just stood there with that “Who me?” expression, and she proceeded to explain. Seems she met this young guy who lives in Mass. but went to Culver Military Acad. He is a freshman at Amherst this year, tall, cute and – get this – HE WRITES POETRY. I just sat there burbling inarticulately into my coffee. She said he should be around in a few weeks. God, am I thrilled. The hope, even, of getting to know a sensitive guy who isn’t a roughneck, makes the whole world swim in pink mist. The food is fabulous. I’ve had two helpings of everything since I got here, and should gain alot. I love everybody. If only I can unobtrusively do well in all my courses and get enough sleep, I should be tops. I’m so happy. This anticipation makes everything super. I keep muttering I’M A SMITH GIRL NOW.
me
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Saturday 30 September 1950*
ALS, Indiana University
Friday night midnight
Dear Mother,
Don’t be disturbed by the late hour – I’m planning to sleep late Sunday morning. Circumstances call for a letter at the present moment, however.
I just took a warm bath, and now feel greatly relaxed. Today has been the fullest yet. After hauling myself out of bed at 7:15, I had breakfast – which is usually coffee, fruit juice, rolls (sometimes stale) and cereal (dry) plus eggs three times a week. I then picked up my room and headed for my physical exam. This consisted of getting swathed in a sheet and passing from one room to another in nudity. I’m so used to hearing “Drop your sheet,” that I have to watch myself now lest I forget to dress. My height is an even five nine, my weight a solid 137, my posture – good, although when my posture picture was taken I took such pains to get my ears & heels in a straight line that I forgot to tilt up straight. The result was something like this.
Then to the registrar to change my French course to 16. A long wait here. Then quickly back to the house to pick up the much awaited mail. There was that lovely letter from you and two from Eddie.* Bob has written also. I’m so pleased with your news. It’s all so happy---especially about Exeter.
As for me, I then dashed to my first French 16 class at 11. Patsy is in it! About 25 girls, and am I glad I changed. The teacher* is a second Mrs. Gorton – short, black haired with a terrific humorous twinkle. She’s so different from that other wishy-washy grammar teacher. I’d much rather have a stimulating course that one all peaches & cream. I just hope I stay in, I should have a terrific time if we always have her. Botany at 12. It promises to be fascinating too. Then lunch. Friday lunch is always poor – fish, ugh. But I have such an appetite that I always eat 2 helpings of everything.
Then to the library for the first time with Pat. We studied from 2-5, and I can see that I’ll spend all the hours I can during the day there. The atmosphere is very quiet and refreshing.
Went to my first little chapel last night & witnessed my first communion. Beautiful ceremony, but nothing I could ever believe in.
After supper, we gathered around the piano and sang for a good hour. Never have I felt so happy, standing with a group of girls with piano, Lisa’s accordion, and two ukeles, singing my favorite popular songs. It was such a warm feeling. No home life could make up for the “cameraderie” of living with a group of girls. I like them all.
After singing, two girls from our annex house came up to my room for the purpose of studying. However, we got in the process of learning the Charleston, and I am afraid the noise of our shrieks carried over the whole house. After our usual bedtime snack (left over desert & milk---tonight it was peach shortcake) one girl left, and Anne Davidow* stayed to do her Religion homework. We drifted into discussion, and she is the closest girl yet that I’ve wanted for a friend. She is a free thinker---we discussed God and religion and men---and her parents are Jewish. I find her very attractive---almost as tall as I, freckle-faced, short brown hair and twinkling blue eyes. She likes to draw horses, and has a palimino named Sylvia. Needless to say, I was much flattered. She might even get me a date tomorrow night. My first real blind one. I kinda hope it comes thru. Once I get started, I’m sure I’ll have no trouble. This sensitive guy I told you about in the card has not yet matured. should it be “materialized”?* I’ll give him a month. I’ve fallen for him already merely because of the poetry angle.
Ann read some of Eddie’s letters and thinks he’s wonderfully socially conscious.
My room is lovely. Did I tell you another small table has been added by the generosity of some senior? All I need now is pillows and pictures, big ones, little ones, loads. Could you have Ilo’s framed? I’ve got to get a bulletin board some how to fill wall space. But I love my “den.”
If I can get enough sleep & do well in my studies, I ask for nothing more. Girls are so sweet here. There are so many different
ones. When I get used to the routine, I’ll no doubt be more rested.
I love this place so much. Of course I haven’t been here long, but I’m very happy so far. The campus is utterly lovely.
My bike is in the racks outside the house along with 101 others. Come winter, I’ll store it in the cellar.
Till later,
Love,
Sivvy
Sat PS. No date after all.
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Sunday 1 October 1950*
ALS with envelope,
Indiana University
Sunday afternoon
Dear Mother,
Here I sit, barefoot on a blanket by Paradise pond, preparing to plunge into my homework. Jo Stocklan,* a sophomore girl in my house, is here with me, and the sun is hotter than on a late spring day. All around it is quiet, only a low murmur of voices and crickets. I wish they let us wear halters, it’s so warm. The trees are yellow-green, and the grass is buttery with light. Paradise lies at our feet, calm and clear as a black marble table top.
I slept until ten thirty this morning, and then Jo and I went downtown to get coffee and hamburg for breakfast. I then went upstairs to do my “laundry” and to clean my room before dinner.
Last night I had my first blind date (after all the indecision it finally came through.) Ann Davidow, the lovely Jewish girl I told you about, got me a date from Amherst. During the morning I went to the library and to my one saturday class – French. Then to the first half of freshman day---sports demonstration. I missed out on supper and the step sing, because Ann and I went back at four to get dressed for our “dinner date.” I wore my navy blue bolero suit with my wide red belt. With some misgivings, I trotted over to our annex house to wait with Ann. It was a triple date, and when the boys came, I was relieved to see that mine was 6 feet tall, and slender & cleancut. Turns out that he lives in West Newton! I don’t know just what chance of fate threw us together, but my first “blind date” sure was lucky. At first there was nothing extraordinary. We all had a steak dinner, cafeteria style, at the Amherst dining hall. Then on to the Chi Phi house. We sat around and talked upstairs in one of the rooms, music blaring, and I felt I didn’t even know the guy I was with at all, which was rather frustrating after not really knowing anybody at all well. Somehow the noise got louder, and Bill* and I separated from the crowd & went down the hall to his room. It was lovely – a fireplace, records, big leather chairs. And some how we got to talking very frankly. He surprised me by hitting rather well on a few points of my personality which I usually keep hidden. But there was a sensitivity about him which appealed to me in comparison to the hearty, rough-neck drinking crowd, so I talked quite openly. His manner is somewhat reminiscent of Warren. He has dark brown eyes, is very slender (150) pounds and (this struck me with awe) he’s a senior and will be 22 on April 26! He didn’t even approach me which is another thing in his favor. After we discussed several important things which I don’t exactly recall---something about ego and religious belief---he got up abruptly and we went to another house to dance. After a few dances, he led me equally abruptly out of the house and by mutual consent we walked around the campus. Nothing is as beautiful as a campus at night. Music drifted out from the houses, fog blurred the lights, and from the hill, it looked as if we could step over the edge into nothingness. It seemed that in his room he was suddenly overwhelmed with his inability to think the situation over clearly, and at the dance he suddenly realized that he enjoyed talking to me in quiet.
Never, since I have come here, have I been in such an island of inner calm. I like people, but to learn about one individual always appeals to me more than anything. We sat and talked out in the cool dark of the steps, and I told him how I felt about being at ease---seems he felt the same way. So we went home at 12:30 with the others, and I felt very happy. To think that I didn’t have to torture myself by sitting in a smoke-filled room with a painted party smile watching my date get drunk! This guy was very gentle and sweet---not one of those old Casanovas. He goes out for crew, so I told him all about Warren.
I do think he liked me a little, though. He said he wasn’t a “wheel with women,” which made me feel glad. I had a very real time. Nothing at all superficial about it.
Back at Haven, we stood for a while outside; the other couples were all coming up the walk, kissing each other regardless of onlookers. So he just smiled and looked at me saying “some people just don’t have any inhibitions” and kissed the tip of my nose briefly.
So that was that. I hope I see him again. He made no definite date but said he was glad he knew I lived at Haven, so he wouldn’t have to go scouting the campus for me.
Among his various observations: I lived “hard,” am dramatic in my manner, talk sometimes like a school girl reporting a theme, and have a southern accent!
Don’t mind my rambling. The first college date is a big thing, and I really feel a part of life now.
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 2 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Monday 3 PM
1
Dear Mother,
Today has been utterly hell-hot, sunny, and I had 4 hours of classes this morning & one this afternoon. My desk is loaded with books, all the classrooms are on the third floor, and I am physically & mentally exhausted. I went to bed at 10 last night, yet early sleep always makes me more tired at first. So I’m going to try to keep good hours all this week. History will be my hardest course, English & Art the most enjoyable. French quite tough, and Botany elaborately difficult. Thank God I have a single room. Patsy saw me for a minute today & is almost hysterical. Her roommate is a party girl, and their room is the gathering place for the whole floor. Since I’m on a floor with srs & Jrs. I can come & go at will. The only consolation is that I remember how overwhelmed I was my first week at the farm, maybe I’ll get rested and balanced in a month. Just now Thanksgiving seems awfully far away.
Love,
Sylvia
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 2 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Mon night
2
Dear Mother
Well, wrapped deep in the midst of my studies I was visited by my senior girl friend who knew the poetry-writing boy. The angel got me a date with him for this Saturday – football game at Amherst, dinner & evening. Just now the phone rang -- my blind date last Saturday wanting date for this Fr. & Sat. I accepted for Fri. So it seems I’m not going to be a social flop after all! Even a senior at Amherst comes back for more of my scintillating peculiarities. God, this homework fazes me.
Love,
Sylvia
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Tuesday 3 October 1950*
ALS with envelope,
Indiana University
Tuesday
3. P.M.
Dear Mother . . .
Just got your Sunday letter this morning, so I thought I’d drop you a line. Your letters are utterly fascinating, and they mean so much since I don’t get much mail or have too much time to write coherently. I’ve heard once from Bob & Ilo, twice from Eddie, and thrice from you. That’s all.
I wish I really did have only 18 hours of classes. With 24, I find myself hard pressed. I am enclosing a copy of my schedule* which may serve to enlighten you somewhat. You see, I have six hours in both Art and Botany which fills it in rather heavily.
History is the course which floors me. There are over 600 in our lecture hall, and in the two periods of actual class, I find I have no background whatsoever. I find reading and comprehending 40 pages a night a bit taxing. Botany requires a lot of work. English, French and Art at least have a keen interest for me which makes up for the labor involved. English is strictly critical, no creative writing. French is mostly literature, under a fascinating teacher. Pronunciation & conversation are part of it.
> I don’t have much chance to admire the lovely foliage, although I wish I could. As you see, I don’t get through classes until three, and often four o’clock.
Patsy declined an invitation to double date with me to Saturday’s game and dance since she has so much work to do. I feel almost guilty going out twice this weekend, but shall try to forget it and work hard now, and forget work & enjoy myself then.
I do think it’s too bad that they have to keep Freshmen so “busy” according to the schedule.
I don’t dare think of marks. If I fail History I shall not be amazed. It is notoriously the most difficult Freshmen course, and there are Sophs & Juniors who find it hard.
Well, off to the libe for an hour or two of trying futiley to get a day’s work done.
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Wednesday 4 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
1
Wednesday 1 PM
Dear Mother,
Today is my “easiest day”. I spent three hours in the libe this morning trying to din 30 more pages of history in my head. Your letters are such treats – even the advice. Don’t worry about my bedtime. I’ve been in by 10:15 the last three nights. I get up at 7. I am nowhere near as physically exhausted as I was at first. In fact I see a little order in the chaos already. Wait for a few weeks till I build up study habits and sleep habits, and I’ll have more time to breath. Just now I can’t look ahead more than a few hours at a time. But that, I tell myself, is as it should be. Rome was not built in a day, & If I accept confusion as a normal consequence of being uprooted from home environment, I should be able to cope with my problems better. Today should have been Mountain day.* The tree outside my window is pure shining gold. Oh, what joy to have no studies & to bike to the mountains.
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath