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Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
-- "Lady Lazarus" by Sylvia Plath
I watched the 2003 movie, “Sylvia”, about the poetess Plath, starring sleeky Gwenyth Paltrow and Daniel Craig. I am still drawn to stories of the literary life, even though I know that I will never leave such a life behind me, being more reader than writer, more pathetic than tragic.
Sylvia is the quintessentially tragic artist - beautiful, brilliant, and suicidal - the great soul unable to make peace with the random, mad world in which we unaccountably find ourselves. Tired of gazing into the abyss and writing about it, she finally dives headlong into it and makes good on her last suicide attempt.
I wonder about my own life spent coping with the abyss and my latest way of dealing with it, which now has me trying to be friends with God, and I wonder: is it because no one else will have anything to do with me, or is it because I don’t think anyone else is good enough for me? All I know is that I find the poetry of Christian metaphysics more exalting than the literature of nihilism and despair, even if I cannot really feel saved myself.
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
-- "Lady Lazarus" by Sylvia Plath
I watched the 2003 movie, “Sylvia”, about the poetess Plath, starring sleeky Gwenyth Paltrow and Daniel Craig. I am still drawn to stories of the literary life, even though I know that I will never leave such a life behind me, being more reader than writer, more pathetic than tragic.
Sylvia is the quintessentially tragic artist - beautiful, brilliant, and suicidal - the great soul unable to make peace with the random, mad world in which we unaccountably find ourselves. Tired of gazing into the abyss and writing about it, she finally dives headlong into it and makes good on her last suicide attempt.
I wonder about my own life spent coping with the abyss and my latest way of dealing with it, which now has me trying to be friends with God, and I wonder: is it because no one else will have anything to do with me, or is it because I don’t think anyone else is good enough for me? All I know is that I find the poetry of Christian metaphysics more exalting than the literature of nihilism and despair, even if I cannot really feel saved myself.
