The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume 1
Page 23
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 16 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Monday 1 PM
Dear Mum–
Can’t seem to stop dropping my favorite person postcards. Although the work piled up on me this week is fabulous, at least my “rest cure” has made me vigorous to face it. Botany test Thurs. History continually piling – My first Eng. theme should come back graded next week. Needless to say, English is my favorite course. And today, as I was bemoaning my fate of staying indoors, I learned that we were – joy of joys – taking a field trip in Botany lab. So for two hours we walked around in the glorious sunlight examining trees. Even though I find it tough going to learn technical names, I’ve got a curiosity about plant life which should help me over the rough spots. Life seems very rich on a day like this – especially because I’m rested & healthy. I’m dying to see my poem in 17. Two other girls in the neighboring house like to write and are always sending things out to Cosmopolitan, Coronet* & Children’s magazines. If I had time now, I’d love to do the same. But I’ll have to wait till vacations
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Tuesday 17 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Tuesday 8 AM
Dear Mum–
And so dawns another day. Yesterday, for the sum of $3 I went to the dentist and had my tooth, which hurt when cold air got on it, smoothed and painted with fluorine (sp??). Now it’s fine, and I won’t have to think about it. Is it my imagination, or is the air in my room almost dewey because of the lovely water holder? I have a Botany test, an art assignment and 40 pages of French translation due Thursday, plus regular Eng & Hist. assignments. However, when I look at the tired faces of some of my friends, I’m even more determined never to go to bed after 10:30. Got my gray sweater ensemble on now with my blue pedal pushers – very warm, very stylish. I don’t see how I ever considered coming home before Thanksgiving. I’ve so much work to do. There is nothing compared to living at college. I walked downtown to get some books yesterday – it’s really my home. It’s such fun to know what girl goes with whom and where – things you’d never know if you commuted. I love eating with a crowd & chatting at meals. In fact I love the whole place.
Your
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Wednesday 18 October 1950*
AL (postcard), Indiana University
Wednesday
6 PM
Dear Mum–
Another mild orange-gold October day. Just to think, I’m almost 18! I get a little frightened when I think of life slipping through my fingers like water – so fast that I have little time to stop running. I have to keep on like the White Queen, to stay in the same place.
Today I have experienced the pin-point arranging of time. I painted my first art assignment after English. I did it hurriedly – a splashed color impression of Chapel meeting, but I got a thrill out of thinking how much I must improve. After History & Body Mechanics I got together with Pat, who’s driven herself hard . . . That rest cure at the infirmary was a life saver. Life looks so bright when you’re rested & well. Got a Botany test tomorrow, and 40 pages of make-up French to translate, so I must study very hard. This weekend I hope to devote to a summing up of what I’ve unthinkingly outlined in History. English is the one course that I don’t have to work in. My teacher calls me “Syl”!! Of course the others have nicknames too!
Love—
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 19 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thurs.*
Dear Mum,
The fact that I’m writing another postcard reminds me of a few notes of minor necessities that would be nice for suggestions for inexpensive Xmas gifts. (Bermuda shorts are a luxury I’m not considering.) I’ve stationary galore, but could always use 1000 postcards & a million 3¢ stamps. A note on the more sensible side: knee socks in red, gray or navy. Here at least, warmth is a primary concern – no blue-goose-pimpled high school legs for me. Boraxo to wash my comb & brush, & raisins or something rough to munch on while studying. Keep this card to remind me when I come home. My French teacher is utterly fascinating. Her voice can express anything. I’m going to slave for her. In tennis I met the most interesting girl – Enid Epstein* – She went to the high school of Music & art in New York and freelances drawings for 17! Think she’s going to have something in the Nov. Ish, too. She loves art and writing. Maybe this could lead to a friendship – who knows? There is so much to discover here! Gosh, I wish the Norton males would get me a date to the Hvd.-Yale game. I’d give anything to go! Smith is the best place. How on earth did I get the luck to come! It’s heaven!
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 19 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thursday night
Dear Mum,
It is ten o’clock, and I’m just going to turn in. I’ve been rushing around all week, and am going to try to rest from now till Monday. My end of the week courses are more of a pleasure to do. I have to prepare nothing for art lectures – just projects for studio. I have no preparation for Botany lab – just studying for tests in lecture period. So really art & French is all I have to worry about on Fri & Sat. I don’t see how my schedule could be better. The only teacher I have who is poor is in art – he’s a foggy bumbling man – says nothing definite, is always mumbling as if thru a cold. Our class* is really too huge. Went outdoor sketching today. I gasped when I saw some of the terrific work. At least of half the class is made up of Picassos, the other half is worse than I – some comfort. By the way my watch suddenly stopped. Shaking & tapping are to no avail. I can wind it down, but not up. Perhaps I over wound it. What’ll I do; I need it a lot? Another thing, if you could get one of those history outlines on Feudal times – Med. History from fall of Rome on, do send it. I can’t find any outlines up here. I love you —
XXXX
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Friday 20 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Friday morning
Dear Mummy,
For me, this weather could last all year. This morning has been utter heaven. From 8:30-10 I sat out in the sun writing letters. At 10 I had another hour practicing backhand in my tennis class, which is really too big, but the exercise is something I look forward to every week. And now, wonder of wonders, our French teacher called a cut, so I have another hour of sunlight before Botany lecture. As you may imagine, days like this are rare indeed. You should see the view from my 3rd floor sunporch. The hills are rising over the gold trees and blue and red tile roofs in a smoky blue-purple haze. Paradise is reflecting russets & bronzes. Wellesley never had such hills! My bicycle & I are inseperable. I just coast from class to class. There is so much that is paintable here. Only with studying, I rarely find time to go out & cultivate new acquaintances. That must come later on.
Love –
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Friday 20 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Friday night
Dear Mummy,
At the end of a strenuous week I feel rather exhausted. It is 9:30, so I am going to take a hot bath and be in bed at 10. Downstairs the piano is giving out with lovely jazzy tunes, as if for my special pleasure. Merci for the vitamin pills. I drink water by the gallon. Today I had 2 helpings of fish for lunch, spinach, potatoes & two of Marie’s special “black bottom pie.”* I have lost no weight but actually gained one pound – 138, now. I spent 4 hours this afternoon 2-6, doing a problem for art – a black, white and gray study of my original color picture. Next week will be tough – a French & Botany test due Thursday, and an English paper and t
he (heaven help me) History written the following Monday. Toll house cookies will be most welcome. I’m too hungry to share many, so will eat them with my before-bed glass of milk. Do let me know what to do about the watch. There is so much to do all the time, I don’t see how anyone could be unhappy or sad. One sure thing, I’ll have to learn bridge & knitting during next summer. They are nice “small” ways of conforming. There is so much I “can’t wait for” -- the Nov. Seventeen, the right boy (whoever he is, poor thing) for my Freshman year, my first English theme to come back. – Life here is lovely –
Love,
sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 23 October 1950*
ALS, Indiana University
Monday mornings
Dear Mother–
Another Monday – another week. This one is going to be the toughest yet – a test in Botany and French on Thursday, and an English paper and history written a week from Monday. This weekend I went out Saturday with Bill. We doubled with Anne Davidow – that nice girl I told you about. We went over to Amherst as usual. Honestly, I have never seen anything so futile as their system of dating. The boys take their dates up to their rooms, usually to drink. After the first hour, the groups break up, and couples wander from fraternity to fraternity in search of a crowd into which they can merge, or a “party” which they can join. It is like wandering from one plush room to another and finding the remains of an evening scattered here and there. I can’t say I give a damn about it. Bill, at least, is very sweet and thoughtful – nowhere as superficial as most of the boys I’ve run into over there. We were both quite tired and not in the mood for any party glitter, so we went to the suite, and I curled up on the red leather couch and dozed, while he stretched out in a chair. He had built a fire and put on some good records, so for about two hours I rested, and my eyes shut. We didn’t even talk. At least both of us were tired at the same time. I almost have to laugh when I think back on it now. What would my housemates say if they knew what an entertaining evening I spent? I don’t suppose they would realize that I had a better time under the circumstances than I could have had by straining to achieve a bright empty smile in a crowd all night. Sunday night I did the rather unwise thing of accepting a blind date to Alpha Delta (god, these Greek names are foolish.) Perhaps it wasn’t so unwise after all. The other freshman from my house who doubled with me, really likes her date. Mine was tall dark, and more like John Hall than anyone I’ve ever met. He looked like Cary Grant and was a bit more suave, being a junior, but those were the only differences. The “sing” was lovely. We all sat by firelight in the living room and sang mellow college songs. The D Q* – Amherst singing group did a few numbers. There is something so hauntingly mellow about boys voices harmonizing.
Then we went down to the bar where I consumed three cokes. There seemed nothing very real about the occasion. The boys are all rather good-looking, the girls all rather lovely or pretty or cute, as the case may be. My date had pictures & scrapbooks of his girl – a Smith girl spending her Junior year abroad – around the room. So I was more or less just a date. It’s funny, but the whole system of weekends seems more intent on saying “I went to Yale” or “Dartmouth.” That’s enough. You’ve gone somewhere. Why add: “I had a hell of a time. I hated my date.” You see, I don’t think people with ideals like our mutual friends the Nortons, frequent the bars where I have hitherto made my appearance. As for what I wore – my aqua dress Sat, and my red skirt & black jersey last night.
This next weekend I have vowed to stay home and sleep and study.
I wonder if I will ever meet a congenial boy. Oh, well–
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 23 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Mon. afternoon
Dear Mum,
One rather pleasant note about this weekend which I neglected to mentioned – took a 10 mile bike trip with Betsy Whittemore* – a tall (5'11") quiet Freshman in my house. It was a glorious day, & we biked along the foot of the mountain range, munching winesaps we bought at a stand along the way. It was warm in the sun, and the fields were full of pumpkins & corn stalks. The countryside looked russet & gold – mellow enough to be done by Rembrandt – the red barns & white, clean-cut New England houses are so charming. We got lost eventually, and had to put our bikes in a farmer’s car & be driven back to Hamp because it was too far to bike before dark. I had my medical today. Picked up athlete’s foot from somewhere & am treating it. My hemoglobin is high – even after my cold, and I am 5'9" & 140 pounds heavy---perfect weight, said the nurse, according to my chart. I should have orthopedic & posture treatment, however – my feet are queerly lined. Oh, well, we all have our peculiarities –
Love,
Sivvy
P.S. Cookies are simply delectable.
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 23 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Mon. Afternoon
Dear Mum . . .
Since I feel rather drowsy today after two late nights (2 AM Sat – 1 AM Sun) I have resolved: No more Sun. night dating. I got a slight shock today – my first mark in English. After I worked so hard on my paper, to get a B- made me slightly sick. And another thing – no comments or corrections except one word underlined as trite – on the back, where other girls had paragraphs of criticism was written in tiny letters “Very well put together.” Now if I do my best and get B- in my “best” subject, what chance do I have in my tough courses? Most marks were from B- to C-. I saw none higher. I talked with a girl who had him last year, and she thinks he’s a hard marker because he didn’t give out any A’s – thinks no-one’s that good. I had to laugh at Warren’s getting B- in English. His brilliant authoress of a sister is rather in the same boat. As the history written approaches, I get frozen, having slept away the weekend. I am going to devote most of my time after Thursday to shutting myself up & studying. One slight help – our eng. paper was postponed a week, so I won’t be under pressure when I write it.
Love from your mediocre child.
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Tuesday 24 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Tues. night
Dear Mum–
It is now 10 P.M., and I am drying my hair preparatory to going to bed. Today was another strenuous one – I’m still weary from my weekend, & classes never seem to let up. During my 2½ hours free time this afternoon, I propped my eyes open & did my immediate homework. I won’t have time to start my history until Thursday. For supper, however, we broke the routine, and four advisors in the house took four of us advisees to dinner at Wiggin’s.* Lisa is a terrific girl, and I feel I could go to her with any problem at all . . . only I don’t have any serious ones yet. We had a lovely time stuffing ourselves (I had chicken, potatoes, beans, 5 rolls, cake, ice cream and coffee) in the delightful low, dark-paneled interior with black iron utensils on the wall. We didn’t get back till 8:30, and I have been fixing my necessities like curlers & such & doing my hair & taking a bath since then. Time ticks by relentlessly. Am I queer, or is it normal that I am so snowed by being a microcosm here that I don’t yet get the feeling of going to Smith? It’s hard to explain, but I don’t find myself able to pull away & evaluate my self in relation to my surroundings. Am I still numb from the shock of fighting 2,500 other individuals or what? I am content, thrilled, and yet feel inadequate to meet all that’s offered me –
Love
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Wednesday 25 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Wed. night
Dear Mum–
You have no idea how heroic I feel. I just refused a Friday night date and a weekend at Wesleyan both with faithful old Bill. I would have liked to go, but would have had a miserable time with the history written hanging
over me. I thought that theoretical choice between a history written & a weekend was farfetched -- guess it isn’t. Anyhow, I said I’d go to the game with him the weekend after. But this history thing scares me, so I’m devoting the whole weekend to it – no late nights to make me use up mornings sleeping. Tonight will be spent studying for the Botany and French quizzes. A note which hit me – one of the peppiest suavest freshmen in our house got called up by Ted Powell.* She asked me if I knew him because he was from Wellesley. So I said I did vaguely. Oh, dear will a nice freshman boy never give me a tumble? Pat got C- in her first English paper – and felt as sick as I did about mine. We had a mock Honor Board* trial today, and when I saw those faces in my Freshman Handbook materialize on stage, poised, lovely, assured, I wondered how so many people could devote all their energy to extra-curricular activities and still be brilliant, beautiful & popular. They are perfect Smith girls. I just hope I can contribute in some small way to this huge city.
Love
Sivvy
P.S. The History outline is a huge help to me – Thanks XXX
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 26 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thursday night
Dear Mum–
I couldn’t wait another minute before writing you how touched I was to get my birthday package which just came. I walked into the house after my last class, & there it was – so I ran upstairs to open it. Who should be in my room but Pat, studying, so I opened the things in front of her – the maroon blouse is a dream (no wonder you’re bankrupt) and the socks are warm & fit just right. I think I’ll share the cake with freshmen in the house tomorrow. The dates are already half gone, & the bureau scarf just makes the room. This is my first birthday away from home, so I was rather overwhelmed by the packages. This morning I got 3 cards – one from Ilo, one from Aunt Hazel* (with a welcome $10) and my favorite gift of the day: a letter from & a picture of my brother! His snapshot now occupies a prominent place on my bulletin board. He is the handsomest, most wonderful boy in the world. I’m so proud of him. This morning I slept over an hour & got a 50¢ breakfast before going to class – 2 donuts, a hamburg, a glass of milk & a cup of coffee. My last vestige of makeup work will be a French test this Saturday, which sort of crowds things. Thanks for the lovely things.