Ariel (Faber Poetry)
von Sylvia Plath
The poems in Sylvia Plath's Ariel, including many of her best-known such as 'Lady Lazarus', 'Daddy', 'Edge' and 'Paralytic', were all written between the publication in 1960 of Plath's first book, The Colossus, and her death in 1963. 'If the poems are despairing, vengeful and destructive, they are at the same time tender, open to things, and also unusually clever, sardonic, hardminded . . . They are works of great artistic purity and, despite all the nihilism, great generosity . . . the book is a major literary event.' A. Alvarez in the Observer This beautifully designed edition forms part of a series with five other cherished poets, including Wendy Cope, Don Paterson, Philip Larkin, Simon Armitage and Alice Oswald.
Was ist bookie?
- Gratis Lieferung in Deutschland
- Finde Bücher die zu dir passen
- Tracke dein Leseverhalten und setze dir Ziele
- Connecte dich mit anderen Leser*innen
Ariel (Faber Poetry)
von Sylvia Plath
The poems in Sylvia Plath's Ariel, including many of her best-known such as 'Lady Lazarus', 'Daddy', 'Edge' and 'Paralytic', were all written between the publication in 1960 of Plath's first book, The Colossus, and her death in 1963. 'If the poems are despairing, vengeful and destructive, they are at the same time tender, open to things, and also unusually clever, sardonic, hardminded . . . They are works of great artistic purity and, despite all the nihilism, great generosity . . . the book is a major literary event.' A. Alvarez in the Observer This beautifully designed edition forms part of a series with five other cherished poets, including Wendy Cope, Don Paterson, Philip Larkin, Simon Armitage and Alice Oswald.
Aktuelle Rezensionen(1)
Rezension von kenSome of my favourite lines. From “Tulips”: I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly / As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands / I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions. I am a nun now, I have never been so pure. / I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted / To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty. And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes / Its bowl of red blooms out of sheet love of me. / The water I taste is warm and salt like the sea, / And comes from a country far away as health. from “Lady Lazarus”: Dying / Is an art, like everything else. / I do it exceptionally well. / I do it so it feels like hell.