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An all-the-way romantic, our Miss Plath. Not very surprising, I guess. It’s presumably why I am this interested in her thoughts and feelings. However, romanticism may be good for art, as well as one’s amusement, but this world beats up on romantics, like romantics are natural victims, prisoners to our enchantments and dreams, masochists to whip-wielding reality.
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4.
- Tonight was awful. It was the combination of everything. Of the play “Goodbye My Fancy,” of wanting in a juvenile way, to be, like the heroine, a reporter in the trenches, to be loved by a man who admired me, who understood me as much as I understood myself. And then there was Jack, who tried so hard to be nice, who was hurt when I said all he wanted was to make out. There was the dinner at the country club, the affluence of money everywhere. And then there was the record... the one so good for dancing. I forgot that it was the one until Louie Armstrong began to sing in a voice husky with regret, “I’ve flown around the world in a plane, settled revolutions in Spain, the North Pole I have charted... still I can’t get started with you.” Jack said: “Ever heard it before?” So I smiled, “Oh, yes.” It was Bob. That settled things for me --- a crazy record, and it was our long talks, his listening and understanding. And I knew I loved him.
-- Sylvia Plath Journals 1950-1953
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4.
- Tonight was awful. It was the combination of everything. Of the play “Goodbye My Fancy,” of wanting in a juvenile way, to be, like the heroine, a reporter in the trenches, to be loved by a man who admired me, who understood me as much as I understood myself. And then there was Jack, who tried so hard to be nice, who was hurt when I said all he wanted was to make out. There was the dinner at the country club, the affluence of money everywhere. And then there was the record... the one so good for dancing. I forgot that it was the one until Louie Armstrong began to sing in a voice husky with regret, “I’ve flown around the world in a plane, settled revolutions in Spain, the North Pole I have charted... still I can’t get started with you.” Jack said: “Ever heard it before?” So I smiled, “Oh, yes.” It was Bob. That settled things for me --- a crazy record, and it was our long talks, his listening and understanding. And I knew I loved him.
-- Sylvia Plath Journals 1950-1953
