So I have never really read this book. I know the fate of Sylvia (and Anne Sexton..) and these women taunt/tease me with their creativity borne of the blood of mental insanity/mental illness. I am reminded of 'The Yellow Wallpaper' and 'The Awakening' and all of the women (Virgina) who have passed on to death through a power darker than could keep them writing. How they even lived such agony and yet gave us the broken teeth and skin of their bodies in exchange for crazy death/unbalanced exsistence plagues me. I actually have most of Anne, Virgina and Sylvia's books around me. I think they remind me of where I do not want to go. I myself am a women who would sail in the same boat as these women, in terms of the former darkness of existence. I think our similarities end in where circumstances keep me here and those that made them go. I keep them around me as a warning to myself, and in a twisted way, as a comfort. They watch over me and wag their fingers at me if I ever get to close to any edge.
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