Depression in Metaphors

Esther's path into depression is hauntingly and truthfully illustrated by Sylvia Plath. What makes this novel so deep and incredibly relevant is the notion that this depression can befall anyone. Just being in the wrong place at the wrong time in her life leads Esther down the dark and worn path of depression. Plath's metaphors for depression paint a very realistic and relatable picture.  I think depression can be a very difficult thing to describe and discuss with others, yet Plath's beautifully constructed metaphors help the reader truly delve into 'her' mind.

The first metaphor that really resonated with me was the "eye of the tornado." At the end of Chapter One, Esther says,

"I guess I should have been excited the way most of the other girls were, but I couldn’t get myself to react. I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo."

The imagery that this metaphor offers is extremely powerful. The eye is the calm, and seemingly dull, part of the tornado. It's the focal point, but it has no focal properties. Everything is circling around the center in a frenzy, yet the eye is never a part of the flurry happening around it. Esther is surrounded by the ever busy and ever moving New York City environment. And although she is the center of her career and life, she's disconnected and just dully being pulled along to parties and superfluous events. Most importantly, she finds it dizzying and depressing, discovering the fashion world she inhabits is superficial and disorientating.

I recently watched a YouTube video about flying into the eye of a hurricane (which is surprisingly possible). Although not a tornado, I think the video shows the unexpected calm and disassociation that Esther might be describing. [Skip to 2:45]

The other important metaphor is that of the bell jar, which illustrates so many meanings and manifestations of depression. The bell jar represents a separated and constricting environment that serves as the personal hell of the person living in it. We mentioned in class that a bell jar is traditionally used to isolate, observe, and terminate a specimen. The bottom of the jar creates a vacuum to prevent the specimen from escaping. However, it also makes the removal of the jar that much more difficult. The clear glass of the jar is particularly maddening as only the person inside knows of its presence, strangers simply see an ill person. Esther is left stewing in that jar surrounded in her own foul thoughts and mannerisms. This extremely powerful metaphor describes depression in a hauntingly poetic way. The feeling of entrapment and helplessness that I got when reading and discussing this jar was eye-opening and slightly horrifying.

Comebacks and fingerbowls and caviar! Oh my!

I find Esther to be extremely relatable, both as a scholar and as a woman. As I was reading the first half of The Bell Jar, a few things about her stood out to me that were particularly relatable. These instances made Esther that much more human, but also provide us with a sense of her true self.

1. Esther thinks of the best comebacks, hours after the argument takes place.

I do this all the time, especially in the shower. The hot and calming water always brings out my best ideas or best comebacks, but it also serves as time of self-reflection. As Esther says on pg. 22, “I never feel so much myself as when I’m in a hot bath,” rings true for me as well. The water almost strips you of all worries and unclouds the hazy ideas in your brain. When we discussed this section of the novel in class, we saw the cleanse of the water as an intense rebirth or  a distancing from her stranger life in New York. However, I think this scene can also be interpreted as a simple unwinding, something that all of us do, albeit described in a passionate way.

2. Esther drinks the fingerbowl, along with the floating cherry blossoms in it.

I thought this was one of the funniest moments the the beginning of the book and probably something that I would do at a fancy brunch. Esther describes this faux pas in passing, but her nonchalant wording makes the situation that much more horrifyingly hilarious. I was definitely cringe-laughing by the time I found out Mrs. Guinea let her drink it without saying anything. This situation makes Esther infinitely more likable, but it also suggests that maybe she isn't meant to be in New York City. Her place is not at fancy functions with the elite, an idea that we see blossoming throughout the entire first section of the novel.

3. Esther eats all of the caviar after strategically mapping out her opponents’ seating positions.

Have you ever been at a dinner party where your absolute favorite food is being served and by the time you get to it it’s all gone? Maybe the Uni Orientation Picnic comes to mind? I have and I definitely sympathize with Esther’s efforts to keep the caviar to herself. Her detailed description of Betsy and Doreen’s position at the dinner table in relation to the caviar was quite amusing, yet also comes with a morbid and serious backdrop. Before mentioning the caviar at all Esther talks in length about her home life and the poverty she grew up in. Perhaps her previously selfish actions should be interpreted as survival techniques stemming from her childhood and leading to her disassociation from New York City.

Although these instances might not be the most crucial in understanding Esther in the entirety of the novel, I do think they serve to showcase her very human and relatable characteristics. Plath creates a more endearing and intriguing character that the reader becomes invested in.

Parenting Then and Now: A Just Precaution or a Paranoid Reaction?

After reading The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, I continued to reflect upon the way childhood has changed over the course of the last century. Last year I wrote an essay for Ms. Linder discussing the portrayal of a utopia in a certain novel, but I also touched on childhood and how it has developed to what it is in our society. While researching material for this essay I stumbled across an article from The Atlantic titled “The Overprotected Kid.” Although it’s very long, I would definitely recommend you read it (or at least watch the three minute video linked below this paragraph). In summary, Hanna Rosin observes and writes about how the preoccupation with safety has stripped childhood of independence, risk taking, and discovery. She writes, “Actions that would have been considered paranoid in the ’70s—walking third-graders to school, forbidding your kid to play ball in the street, going down the slide with your child in your lap—are now routine. In fact, they are the markers of good, responsible parenting." Now, I definitely think this is true. You never see children playing in a park these days without a parent supervising or walking home from school by themselves. In The Catcher in the Rye, written in the 1950’s, we see that kids are much less supervised in comparison to today. The young boy playing and singing while walking behind his parents next to a large road or Phoebe’s friend skating in the park by herself on a gloomy day are just a few examples of the independence young children are offered. When narrating, Holden even describes the skate park as “lousy” and full of “dog crap, and globs of spit, and cigar butts from old men, and the benches all looked like they’d be wet if you sat down on them. It made you depressed and every once in a while, for no reason, you got goose flesh while you walked.” This is not a place I would send my kid, alone or even with me. What changed throughout the 20th and 21st centuries that caused parents to become more protective?

I remember when I was younger my parents would let my siblings and I roam our apartment complex for hours at a time during the summer. I would say we lived on the border of “good Urbana” and “bad Urbana.” There was a decent amount of crime and rambunctious high school students walking through our yard area during the school year. For some reason, my parents were totally encouraging of the fact that we would disappear off with our friends literally for hours. I remember that one summer we created this secret lair in the space between our apartment’s wooden fence and the chain link fence of a private house. The space was about five feet wide and filled with prickly tree branches. We decorated the space with the items that our neighbors would throw out. Yes, we dumpster dove, but in my defense these items were really nice. All of our neighbors were from Turkey and basically had to throw out everything they couldn’t bring back with them. We scored an epic ceramic horse head statue once. To say the least, our lair was sketchy and I’m surprised we didn’t get tetanus. However, reading further in Hanna Rosin’s article I found out that this is exactly the type of environment that children should be encouraged to play in (well, minus the dumpster-diving and potential tetanus).

In the article, Hanna Rosin explores and discusses a newly built special park, ominously called “The Land.” It’s a junkyard-looking piece of land where children can create their own play structures using wooden pallets, tires, fire pits, and other material that would normally be considered hazardous. Children are supervised by only one parent and aren’t coddled or helped when they fall and start crying. Rosin writes in her article that children are less constrained and create their own games and groups using their imagination. Surprisingly, the amount of injuries in our normal safety oriented playgrounds is exactly the same as the number of injuries in more “dangerous” ones. This is the kind of environment that I see Holden, and porbably more lower-class individuals from The Catcher in the Rye, playing in. Phoebe seems to be more reigned in by her parents, but still walks by herself to school and the library.

Would you let your young sibling or future child wander “The Land?”

Were you raised in an overprotective household?

What do you think about overprotective parenting? Is it a just precaution or a paranoid reaction?