The Bell Jar

Hace algunos veranos me encontré en medio de una crisis existencial que parecía no terminar. En ese momento llego “The Bell jar” a mi vida para definir muchas cosas y rescatarme del abismo. Me sentí demasiado identificada con la escritura de Sylvia y con esos momentos donde yo también me encontraba atrás de la campana de cristal. Hoy celebramos el cumpleaños de esta increíble obra de la literatura y decidí dedicarle mi post a ella. Lamento la falta de relación con el post por lo que complementaré las imágenes con frases de “The Bell jar”.

A few summers ago I found myself in the midst of an existential crisis that seemed not finish. At that time I got "The Bell Jar" on my life, it helped me to define many things and to rescue me from the abyss. I was too identified with  Sylvia's writing and those moments where I also found myself behind the Bell Jar. Today we celebrate the birthday of this great work of literature so I decided to dedicate my post to it. Because of the lack of connection with the post, I will complete the images with quotes from "The Bell Jar".

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” 

“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” 

“The trouble was, I had been inadequate all along, I simply hadn't thought about it.” 

“When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know.
"Oh, sure you know," the photographer said.
"She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything.” 

“because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.” 

I didn't know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of the throat and I'd cry for a week.” 

“So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being brainwashed, and afterward you went about as numb as a slave in a totalitarian state.” 

“I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadow at the back of people's eyes and smiles, and shadow, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth.” 

And I`ll finish with this:

"I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still” 

This entry was posted on miércoles, 14 de enero de 2015 and is filed under ,,,,,,,,,,,,,. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response.

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