by Sylvia Plath
XX
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Friday 27 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Oct 27th 11:00
Dear Mum–
Well, your 18 year old (Gosh, hand me down my rocking chair) girl is just about to collapse into bed. At 10:00 tonight I disposed of half my cake in the kitchen with the aid of friends – yummy with milk. Tomorrow the rest will go even more rapidly. Even Mrs. Shakespeare joined us for a piece. Thinks you’re a wonderful cook! I had to laugh – one of the girl’s was trying to persuade me to go dancing with a Dartmouth guy this Sat. Mrs. S. was horrified when I said no, I was staying home & turning in early. “But my dear, you mustn’t let studying blot out your social life – it’s so important to keep in circulation.” I agreed with a smile, making a mental reservation (sleep, after 2 weeks of solid speed & tension, also is important.) She was relieved to hear I’m going out to a game next weekend. One of the girl’s told me she is the most powerful house mother – can practically hand-pick her house! I agree with her when she says its the best-knit group of girls on campus. Today was an example of their sweetness. Today has been so full – I ate 2 pieces of apple pie à la mode at lunch & 6 pieces of cake at tea & supper combined. What a life –
Love to you all –
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Saturday 28 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
SAT morning
Dear Mum–
Just got back from taking my French quiz in the libe. I have 5 minutes before going to French, so I thought I’d drop you a line & let you know what I’ve been doing for the past month (haw). It was so good to talk to you last night! I can’t describe in a card just how much this college experience away from home is doing for me. An amusing incident – 3 days ago my Botany prof & advisor walked into the coffee shop where I was having a late breakfast. I was so flustered when he sat beside me at the counter that I thought “He’ll never know me among all his students,” so I just sat and drank, while reading my mail. Of course I cursed myself for not saying anything afterwards as it dawned upon me that he might know who I was after all. So today, my pangs of conscience were rewarded when he walked in again. I greeted him with a cheery good morning, & he actually knew my name. so we conversed about mere nothings over coffee & he asked with a twinkle if I was “passing all my subjects.” It all made me feel that there is a very personal side to this big impersonal organism. I love life – for the 1000th time – are there any colleges other than Smith?
Love,
me
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Saturday 28 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Sat 3:00 PM
Dear Mum–
First, a few questions – what is Aunt Frieda’s whole name – I want to write a Thank you note for the hanky? Second, I have an interview with Miss Mensel* Tuesday. What should I take for my policy of response to her? A horrible thought just occured to me. After falling so in love with my house & this special group of girls – how can I ask for a co-op house? It seems pitiful to get my roots growing down in fertile soil & have to rip them up & start all over somewhere else! It is now 3:00 & I am prepared to plunge into my history. All Satan’s devil’s were tempting me to put it off & stay out late tonight – not only Bill from Amherst, but a blind date from Dartmouth & one from Yale. God, I’m so noble I have to laugh! But my reward will come . . . in hell, if not here. Don’t pity me – lots of kids are staying home & studying! To make up for my boyless weekend, I splurged 3.60 for a seat at the play “Streetcar named Desire”* this Thursday. Also bought “Vivid” lipstick – goes beautifully with my orange top. Everytime I see a girl on the street I can’t help grinning broadly – “Isn’t Smith heaven!” I think to myself. I can’t rave enough over my French teacher. I look so forward to class. That woman is terrific – I wish you could come to hear her.
XXX
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Sunday 29 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Sun Night
Dear Mum–
It is now the zero hour – 11 PM, just before I hop to bed. Tomorrow I have classes straight through till history – so no time to study then. It’s just as well not to study the day of an exam, Lisa says. I spent all last evening and all today from 2-10 PM studying till my head was crammed full with a jumble of empires, centuries & trends. If I get D- I will only smile bravely & say “The Lord works in mysterious ways . . .” I have taken a hot bath & sleeping pill, & so should get 8 good hours of sleep in. Saw Pat in the carrels today. I was so shocked – she often skips supper & studies thru the noon till 10 PM. However she’s met a sweet frosh at Amherst whom she’s crazy about. I went to church this morning for the first time – a church date with a frosh from Dartmouth. He is very self-conscious of his face which shows scars of acne, but I felt sorry for him. The question is – should I go up to Dartmouth Sat Nov 14 – I’d not cut French, & the fare would be about $7 – so I can’t decide if it’s worth it. There’s to be a dance, but I probably would be with this guy all the time. He’s all right, but looks as if he’d shrink into the ground whenever anyone looks at his face. I am tempted to go for the hell of it & to make him feel confident – but I’d love you to sway me one way or the other. It’s a gamble either way you look at it. I might have a good time – I might not. Hanover is supposed to be a nice town. What do you think?
Love
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Monday 30 October 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Monday
Dear Mum,
Well, it’s a known fact that post-mortems don’t help. But at least the question was fair – “From the time of Constantine to the 11th cen there were frequent instances of close coöperation between secular rulers & the church. Discuss the principal instances, giving attention to reasons for cooperation & the consequences in each case.” I made my little outline – & proceeded I thought I covered a lot, when coming back from the exam I encountered a fellow victim. “Oh,” she said calmly, “I followed it thru to the conquering of England.” Whereupon I felt slightly sick, realizing I had left out England completely. ⅓ of the important Empires missing! I can only pray for a C-. It’s rather a shock to realize that here everyone studies, and often there are people more intelligent than I am . . . only too often. My only cause for rejoicing that my 3 small quiz grades in Botany have been A-, A, and A+. So if I study hard for our Bot. written next week, I should try to do well there. Another English paper is due Mon – on atmosphere.* If I get another B- I’ll scream. At least our next history written is Dec. 4, so I can study over Thanksgiving. Oh well, I may not thoroughly appreciate the intracacy of Church & state, but I still love to draw ***
Your moronic offspring –
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Tuesday 31 October 1950*
TLS with envelope,
Indiana University
Tuesday
Dear Mother,
Well, I have just come from a half hour session with Miss Mensel. I was really foolish to ask you what I should say to her. It all poured out during the course of the conversation. Really, she is the dearest person . . . not beautiful . . . freckled and gray-haired, rather, . . . but with a keen vital twinkle in her blue eyes. She wants to meet all the scholarship girls in the freshman class and get to know them so she can describe them and their needs to the Board. In other words she is the personal medium through which the Board gets to know who we are and what we deserve. So I found myself telling her how stimulating my courses are . . . how French relates with History, and Art with Botany. How I want to take creative writing, and art courses. I even said how I love my house and the girls in it . . . the older ones too, who could give us a sort of perspective on college life. And
about how nice it was to get dressed up and go out on weekends . . . or just go bike riding through the countryside. I had to keep myself from getting tears in my eyes as I told her how happy I was. I only hope I can live up to my courses and get good grades. The history does worry me a little. I was afraid I would be stiff and nervous at first, by my enthusiasm washed all that away, and I just flooded over and told her about how stimulating it was here. She agrees that I am in a superlative house, and also stressed the point about getting out on weekends so as not to go stale.
Now I come to the most thrilling part . . . about whose scholarship I have. The thing is, Miss Mensel likes the girls to establish contact with their benefactors so the people who give out the money are rewarded by a flesh-and-blood case. And whomshould my $850 come from but Olive Higgins Prouty!!!* Miss Mensel said it was very seldom given to freshmen, but with my enjoyment of writing and my prize from the Atlantic Monthly (I’m afraid my Atlantic Monthly honorable mention has increased its prestige too much) Olive Higgins would be very pleased to hear from me and learn about my achievements and future plans, and also about the impact Smith has had on me. Now I will plunge into those darn critical English themes with renewed vigor. And go through my art exercises with that “means-to-an-end” gleam in my eye. If only I can meet all the opportunities. Just now I feel rather overwhelmed at the things Smith offers. Olive Higgins Prouty. Isn’t she the one who dramatizes Stella Dallas? The fascinating thing is that she lives in Brookline, Mass.
Tonight we have a house party for Hallowe’en. Another girl--a gorgeous blonde freshman--wrote the dialogue for our freshmen skit and I wrote the words to the songs. The whole thing is rather foolish, but rather funny in rhyme. I hope it goes off all right. It’s things like that that take up time in the evenings. I am still battling with history. I think I was left permanently in the dark ages. I can just see Louise Giesey getting Sophia Smith or something, while I come out with all B’s and C’s. I just can’t stand the idea of being mediocre, yet I’ll have to spend double time on history if I even hope to get an average mark. And even then I have so much to do in Botany to keep up . . . and in French. I’ll be studying and sleeping all Thanksgiving, I fear. About the going out angle . . . I’ll plan on going out Saturday night and staying home the others. After all, I can go out all the time here, but my family isn’t seen so often. I can’t understand the Freeman’s . . . Mrs. F. sent me a love-and-best-wishes card with a dollar enclosed . . . no note from Ruth . . just a bit of cash. Not like her usual personal slant, I must say. As for Bob, all I got from him was one of those luxuriously gilded cards with violent purple and pink flowers and the usual sentimental birthday message. I don’t know what’s the matter with him. I think he’s peeved because I told him I didn’t know yet whether it would be wise for him to come down the weekend before thanksgiving or not as I didn’t know how my work would pan out. I also mentioned that Thanksgiving wasn’t very far away, which might have bothered him, as I no doubt should be languishing from loneliness and missing him no end. Frankly I hardly have time to give him a second thought. He is no part of my life here, and I am so busy finding out about Smith that I have no time to be either homesick or lovesick. Boys are strictly secondary in my present life. They can come and go or not come at all and I don’t care too much. Of course I can see that this year for Bob is mere repetition . . . very little new except courses, and perhaps my absence makes him miss me or something. It’s really too bad that the feeling isn’t mutual. I find myself numb as far as feeling goes. All I’m trying to do is keep my head above water, and emotions are more or less absent or dormant for the while. It’s a good thing to have one less distraction.
If only I’m good enough to deserve all this. I’m afraid the study of Pope Pompus the XXX and the Concordat of Worms is not subjective enough to fascinate me. I would be thrilled even to make some order out of the chaos of rising and falling powers, but I don’t even seem to be able to see trends. It’s so disheartening to read 20 pages of factual material and not understand the greater meaning behind the petty kings and popes . . . and see other girls give all the right answers. I really am going to work on it during my few days of respite in Thanksgiving . . . also on my art scrapbook which I haven’t even begun. Our art lectures are fascinating . . . if not my studio teacher.
Oh, well, enough for now, I really must work. I am driving myself rather hard lately, and hope I can let up and go to bed and sleep at 9 tomorrow night . . . if I last that long.
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Wednesday 1 November 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Wednesday –
Dear Mum–
Here I sit in the glorious morning sunshine. The sun is hot, there is no breeze – only crisp fresh air – and I can think of nothing nicer than to sit & bask on the porch while studying (heh heh) history.
Your letters are so interesting – Got a short impromptu English quiz back with a B and no comment. Perhaps the big (1200) (word) paper due next Wednesday will rate a remark or two. We have to read All the King’s Men* & Mayor of Castorbridge* very soon – both of which books I can buy or borrow for a mere pittance. Our little house costume party went off in great style – all the girls are so friendly. Ever since Miss Mensel told me about the Olive Higgins Prouty scholarship I’ve gone around with a lift in my heart. I have so much to live up to. I’ll try to go easy on starches – but I’m so hungry all the time – I drink oodles of water & so have not had any of my chronic trouble (aren’t I delicate.) I’m going to the Amherst-Tufts game with Bill this weekend – I’ll tell you the results later on. Well – on to history –
Love,
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Thursday 2 November 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Thurs.
Dear Mum–
Whew! Life is crowded. Mid-semesters are approaching – a 1200 wd. eng paper due Monday – Botany written Thurs, Art Notebook due Friday, 400 page novel a week from Monday – and a French mid-semester due the same week. I’m so happy – even cutting out pictures from magazines for art is fun. Have you seen 17?? There’s rather a brilliant air about the magazine this issue . . . could it be that flattering picture of yours truly? Tonight I see StreetCar. I’ll have to work extra hard this weekend, but it’ll be worth it. History (ugh) doesn’t come back for a week. I’m so happy about French. She doesn’t mark the first test, but I had no corrections on the essay questions & “a very good paper” written on it. I got A on the little vocab quiz. If only I can make out as well on the written. P.S. If you find any examples of chinese brush drawing, sculpture pictures or pictures of lithographs & woodcuts, send ’em along so Ill get them before Friday. Our art book is examples of graphic art & line drawing.
Love
Sivvy
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Friday 3 November 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Friday night
Dear Mum–
Well, tonight I’m staying home to start whacking away at my English paper. It’s a nice night – wet and fresh after today’s cold drizzle. Streetcar was dynamic. I haven’t seen a play for so long. It was, I think, poetic bestiality. The scenery and lighting effects were superb – the feeling of dark wood rotting, and mouldy decay. The sister of the heroine – Blanche – reminded me a little of Mary MaGilura – a straight forward, honest simplicity in contrast to the taut, jagged nervousness of the heroine. I got in bed after midnight, but it was worth it. I am not going to Dartmouth. I’d rather stay home & study than spend money . . . on someone dull. Ruthie sent me 2 pretty scarves which I got today. House life is so cosy – I love dropping into the girls’ rooms & sharing pieces of their lives. Costs are mounting, but I think I’ll get along if I keep scrimping on luxuries.
Love,
Sivvy
a carrel is a metal enclosed study desk in the solitary
quiet of the stacks in library
TO Aurelia Schober Plath
Saturday 4 November 1950*
ALS (postcard), Indiana University
Saturday
Dear Mum–
Today my mail was wonderful – 4 letters and a postcard. My Hanover boy wrote a cute letter – but I’m so glad I decided to write him a refusal. House Dance* on Dec. 16 will cost me over $10, and I want to go – hope I find someone nice by then. As for “The Lady’s Not For Burning”– by Fry, I believe – that’s the book Austin left for me to read – never returning to get it back. I’ll have to read it, now, you make it sound so delightful! Today it’s cold & pouring rain. Instead of going to the game as so many girls are, Bill & I are going to sit by the fire in his room & listen to it over the radio. I’d rather do my English paper, but so much time I will sacrifice to the collegiate spirit. The girls are sweet – dropping in & telling me to be sure to wear my raincoat and my overshoes . . . etc. * P.S. Just got back & am ready to hop into bed at 1 AM. Hardly got one drop of rain on me the whole time. Had a terrific steak dinner at Valentine Hall* – the Amherst eating place, and saw a vaudeville show put on by the boys afterwards. Amherst really is a “singing college.”