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describes her "exaggerated American/Grin for the cameras, the judges, the strangers, the
frighteners.''
As Plath's own writings attest, there were at least two faces she showed to the
world: the sunlit American girl, a straight-A student, the picture of friskiness and
vitality and ambition; and the shadow side, the haunted woman, trapped in a bell jar,
plagued by nighttime terrors and quickening rages, and drawn ineluctably, like
Persephone, toward an underworld of despair and death. Mr. Hughes gives us both
Plaths: the magical, kinetic girl he fell in love with and the sad, frightened woman he
felt he could no longer reach.
Mr. Hughes, for his part, plays Ferdinand to her Miranda, and later Leonard to
her Virginia. He feels unworthy marrying her, "the Swineherd/Stealing this daughter's
pedigreed dreams/From under her watchtowered searchlit future,'' but embraces their
marriage as a fated match dangling the promise of Edenic bliss.
There are quick, bright snapshots of their very ordinary happiness -- playing at
being tourists in Paris, setting up house together, picking daffodils in the garden--but
there are hints, too, of strain and stress. The pressure of living with another poet--all that
observing and annotating, all that extrapolating of the ordinary into metaphor--begins to
take a toll.
We see in these poems, as we saw in Plath's most famous "Ariel'' poems, Plath's
growing obsession with her father, Otto, who died when she was 8, and we are also
made to feel Mr. Hughes's own growing sense of helplessness, his inability to save or
soothe his wife. In "The Table,'' he writes, "I wanted to make you a solid writingtable/That would last a lifetime'' but found instead that he had "made and fitted a
door/Opening downwards into your Daddy's grave.'' In poem after poem, Otto is
depicted as the Minotaur, a rough, dark beast waiting to snatch Plath away from
happiness and youth, while Plath, in turn, is seen as a maiden, intent on entering his
labyrinth and meeting her self-appointed fate.
There are verses in this volume where Mr. Hughes's penchant for parables and
animal metaphors can feel forced: especially strained is one poem that tries to find an
omen of the author's marriage in his encounter with a wounded bat. These, however, are
the exceptions. Most of the poems in Birthday Letters have a wonderful immediacy and
tenderness that's new to Mr. Hughes's writing, a tenderness that enables him to
communicate Plath's terrors as palpably as her own verse, and to convey his own lasting
sense of loss and grief.
"But then I sat, stilled,'' he writes, ''Unable to fathom what stilled you/ As I
looked at you, as I am stilled/ Permanently now, permanently/ Bending so briefly at
your open coffin.''
Source Citation: Kakutani, Michiko, "A Portrait of Plath in Poetry for Its Own Sake," in
The New York Times Book Review, February 13, 1998. DISCovering Authors. Online
Edition. Gale, 2003. Student Resource Center. Thomson Gale. 05 February 2006
<http://galenet.galegroup.com.ezproxy.sfpl.org/servlet/SRC>