to be sorted later #11
in which I'm mumbling Sylvia Plath to myself, mostly
It’s that time of year where I’m constantly thinking of the opening line of The Bell Jar:
It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn’t know what I was doing in New York.
Ahhh. Perfection. Thank you, Sylvia Plath. I’m not actually sure how many times I’ve read it, but that line is burned into my brain. So much so that a few summers ago when my landlord asked me if I was interested in his copy of the First American Edition, I responded by grinning and saying “it was a queer, sultry summer!” instead of just saying “thank you, yes” like a normal person. I did already have another beloved copy of it, of course — a Christmas gift from my brother from many years prior. But you don’t say no to a First American Edition of The Bell Jar.
The last time I re-read The Bell Jar was over Memorial Day weekend 2023, shut up in my apartment sick with COVID and finding “the crack-up of Esther Greenwood” (to quote my old edition’s slipcover) more devastating than ever before. Truly, the entire first chapter alone is a masterpiece, packed with gems like:
“These girls looked awfully bored to me. I saw them on the sunroof, yawning and painting their nails and trying to keep up their Bermuda tans, and they seemed bored as hell … Girls like that make me sick. I’m so jealous I can’t speak.”
and
“I began to think vodka was my drink at last. It didn’t taste like anything, but it went straight down into my stomach like a sword swallower’s sword and made me feel powerful and godlike.”
Still, it’s that opener that gets me the most. I find myself thinking “it was a queer, sultry summer” as I’m watering my back porch plants, riding my bike along the 606, or just puttering around my apartment on a hot day.
When I’m not mumbling Sylvia Plath lines to myself, what the hell am I even doing?
What I’m Sorting Through, Currently …
LADY PARTS!
That caught your attention, I hope. The show is called We Are Lady Parts, and it’s about an all-female Muslim punk band in London. It’s equal parts kooky and feminist and I love it. You can read an interview with the creator Nida Manzoor here. I’ll admit I went in a bit skeptical but then was hooked by the second episode. Two seasons flew by. Excellent queer, sultry summer content!
Poetry Monster
Earlier this month, The Slowdown — a poetry podcast that sends a daily poem to my inbox — got me with a poem called “We Never Stop Talking About Our Mothers” by Diannely Antigua. I loved it so much, I ordered her collection Good Monster that day. Although first I had to forward it to Lauren and Lindsay (“throw a dinner party for the ghosts”!) like it was 2022 and I was forwarding Sheila Heti’s diaries all over again.
I read Good Monster cover to cover, and then again, and then felt so inspired and a little haunted that I wrote a poem, too.
On Repeat
A tune for your queer, sultry summer!
And here’s a song that references The Bell Jar:
“Don’t be vague or wavering. Impose your style. Don’t be afraid of falling into mediocrity. You would never.” — Gwen John
previously:
to be sorted later #10
June’s almost over, and that means we’re halfway there! No, I’m not talking about the calendar year: I’m now 50% of the way through War & Peace! I can’t lie, I enjoy many of the war sections about as much as I enjoyed the so-called Presidential debate this week, which I decided to catch up on yesterday morning —