The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume 1 Read online

  He held the glass over the eye and, as though it were jelly, the eye wriggled and the pupil contracted as the man tipped the glass!! He laughed once more and asked us to come down the dark corridor to see some more relics.

  All of a sudden I felt very ill and grabbed the girls by the hand. Muttering with relief I dragged them to the front entry. The man started after us calling, “I’ve something else to show you”. I rushed out, not caring to see any more eyes which he said were genuine Egyptian.

  The girls, evidently, had not seen the eye wiggle and would have gone back had I not reminded them that it was past lunch time!

  When I got home safely with no eyes following me I immediately said to Priscilla, “My that Egyptian exhibit was certainly wonderful.” She whispered back, “I wish I really felt that way too. The eye was terrible.” I told her conscendingly, “Oh! That’s only natural for someone who hasn’t had as much experience as I have.”

  So you see what influence such things have on peoples lives. Sometimes when I go to sleep I see in my dreams eyes coming toward me at a terrific rate and whizzing past just in time. When I work with stamps too much this happens too. Take my advice – never take eyes too lightly. They really are supernatural sometimes.

  I am very glad for you that your father* is coming home. I hope also that Susie knows him.

  With love,

  Sylvia

 

  Read inner flap.

 

  I did not send you some of my stamps this time but will probably be up in about ten days if you will wait.

  TO Margot Loungway Drekmeier

  Sunday 16 December 1945

  ALS with envelope,

  Estate of Margot Drekmeier

  December 16

 

  Dearest Margot,

  I am writing this letter to you from bed. I have a cold as well as an itchy rash over my face and arms for I picked some poison sumach berries. I thought that they were bayberries but was sadly mistaken.

  I have explained to you why I was not able to buy any of your stamps on the reply sheet.

  How is the weather up there in Maine? Our town is a frosty cold point of snow on the map. We get out of school on December 21st. and go back on January 2nd. How long a vacation do you have?

  How are the kittens? I’m in a dither for I have to prepare two oral reports, a test, and two homework papers for tomorrow.

  I followed your advice and sent a selection of stamps to Joyce Martin.* As you said, she was not able to buy them but wants the offer later. Evidently she gets in the same predicaments that I do.

  I am so glad that your father has come home. Duncan must be growing up quickly like babies inevitably do. I miss Susie alot as well as everyone else. In Wellesley there is no inkling of seeing even a baby I often remember the perfect time we had at your house this summer.

  Love to all,

  Sylvia

  P.S. I’ll write a longer letter when I’m better.

  s.

  TO Margot Loungway Drekmeier

  c. 1945

  ALS, Estate of Margot Drekmeier

 

  Dear Margot –

  These are gold ships ~

  These are silver ships ~

  But there is no ship

  Like our friendship.

 

  True friends are like diamonds,

  Precious and rare.

  False friends are like leaves –

  Found everywhere.

  Love from

  Sylvia Plath

 

  1946

  TO Margot Loungway Drekmeier

  Sunday 13 January 1946

  ALS with envelope,

  Estate of Margot Drekmeier

  January 13, 1946

 

  Dearest Margot,

  Do you notice any difference in my printing. I have a new $10 fountain pen* that will last me a lifetime. It is green and gold and very ultra-modern. In my new diary (alas, it’s much smaller than my previous one*) I am keeping account of my stamp expenditures and – income! I have only spent 35¢ this year and have received 10¢ from my sheets that I send out.

  Do you know of anyone else that hasn’t a super stamp collection like yours? I want to send to some more in your stamp Circle if there’s any one who hasn’t too many stamps. (Besides Joyce Martin.)

  For Christmas I received some very nice stamps. Do you have any United States stamps on the first Page? I have two there. How many U.S. stamps d’you have in all? I am enclosing a special offer of 50 different stamps for 10¢. You may have all – in that case please return to me, Bub. Are you collecting much money from the stamp Circle? I sent in for an offer from the Owen’s Stamp Co.* that did not mention approvals and what did I receive!! Approvals! (and a measly free envelope of duplicates) You should have seen the thank-you refusal I wrote back – I praised their low prices, valuable stamps and a whole pile of other things.

  We have had cold weather this winter and the ground is covered with a film of frozen snow. What is the weather like up there?

  Have you read any of Richard Halliburton’s books? (“Royal Road to Romance,” “Flying Carpet,” “Glorious Adventure”, and “New Worlds to Conquer.”*) If you haven’t you should. They’re full of lovely expressions and descriptions.

  I hope you noticed the envelope,* Bub. (Ha-Ha) (One good turn deserves another, Maggot) Don’t feel wormy, just remember – Sylvia A. Plath (S.A.P.)

 

  Regards and consolations,

  Sylvia Artimis Platovksy

  TO Frank Schober

  Wednesday 16 January 1946

  ALS, Indiana University

 

  Jan. 16, 1946

  Dearest Grampy,

  As I was walking home from my piano lesson this evening I saw this beautiful picture of the earth.

  Enclosed is an original poem about it.

  Special love,

  Sylvia

 

 

  A WINTER SUNSET

  by Sylvia Plath

  Over the earth’s dark rim

  The daylight softly fades,

  The sky from orange to gold

  And then to copen shades.

  ------

  The moon hangs, a globe of iridescent light

  In a frosty winter sky,

  While against the western glow one sees

  The bare, black skeleton of the trees.

  ------

  The stars come out and one by one

  Survey the world with lofty stare;

  But, from the last turn in the road

  A cosy home beckons to me there.

  TO Margot Loungway Drekmeier

  Friday 22 February 1946

  ALS with envelope,

  Estate of Margot Drekmeier

  February 22, ’46

 

  Dear Margot,

  Happy George Washington’s Birthday. How are you all? What is this I hear about you moving somewhere in the vicinity of Wellesley? Goodie!!!!! It will be easier for me to kidnap dear Duncan and sweet Susie! I can’t wait.

  Enclosed is one dime for your offer. Warren bought
it. What are the numbers of the stamps on the first page of the United States in your album? The stamps that you have on the first page.*

  So far this year I have kept a record* of the stamps cost that I’ve bought along with my income. My expenditures are high (for me) this past two months and my income only covers one-fourth of it.

  Have you any spare snapshots of you? I’d like one to pin up in my Chamber of Horrors.

  I, too, have received 20¢ from Joyce Martin. She sounds like a lovely person only evidently doesn’t like to write much!

  My diary is very punk. The pages measure 3½" × 6" and there are only 18 lines for writing. Most of the time I write double lines. At the beginning of the year I illustrated each page but now only have time for a sketch here and there.

  I’m still taking piano, viola, and dancing lessons, am in the shool’s Friday orchestra and belong to an active scout troop. How is Ellen? What are you doing in school? Have I told you how the Jamestown Stamp Company spells my name. I sent in for a packet a second time and sent back the approvals. They utterly thought I was two different people – Sylivia and Sulvia. I thought Sulvia was really the worst as I printed very plainly. (sniff-sniff!)

  Please tell me a little more coherently about the Stamp circle members you sent my name to about free offers mixed up with something else. I’d like some addresses of gullible people (If you can find any in your intelligent vicinity.) I can’t wait until summer comes with camp and such. The three weeks I spent in Maine last summer (believe it or not) were the most fun I’ve ever had. I will never forget it.

  Warren and I have had a wonderful time coasting. Have I told you? The hill was made with bulldozers and I’ve never seen anything so steep. The weather was damp for one day and the hill froze solid to ice. When Warren and I pulled the sled up it was like the legendary glass hill. Our sled is very streamlined. We went down the hill like this: Last night I dreamed that I was over your house and was looking at your stamp album. I can’t wait to see it and to compare some of your spaces with mine.

  Please write soon. I received a letter from you containing eight pennies. If this was to pay for my offer that I last sent you it is fine for that was the price. I don’t know if the pennies were lucky or not.

  Love,

  The Stamp

  TO Marion Freeman

  Tuesday 16 April 1946

  ALS with envelope, Smith College

  April 16, 1946

  Dear Mrs. Freeman,

  I’ve so much to write now that I’ve come from Winthrop. This weekend has been so full that I’ve had to write double lines in my diary. But I can never write enough to fully express the super-wonderful time I had at 8 Somerset Terrace (and vicinity).

  The minute I got up at 11:45 this morning, the telephone rang; – Prissy. She was aching for me to describe the details of my visit, (especially about Dave.*) Betsy called up this evening and spent the time listening to my story. I did not exaggerate one tiny bit and they believed me implicitly.

  When I told about the blouse, however, they were rather doubtful. They know how I loved to sew (read this sarcastically ) and found it hard to believe when I told them how wonderful it was and how I enjoyed it.

 

  This afternoon Prissy and I rode our bikes to Wellesley College and climbed the well-known tower* alone. The first 250 feet of steps (after the elevator took us four flights) were very bare and breathtaking. They went around the dark walls and you could look through the stairs to the bottom everywhere. This was not very comforting. Then the fun began – the stairs were all of a sudden very small and triangular and went around and around – up and up – for I don’t know how long. We could hardly squeeze through the conical structure. Then the ever-resourcful Prissy opened a tiny door – the wind rushed by in torrents of force (that mightn’t sound right but thats the way it felt.) We walked out of a flat square of brick with a wall (very low) all around and four lacy turrets at the corners. Way, way down below us the countryside lay, seemingly flat. The miniature green fields were dotted with tiny white houses, gleaming blue lakes, small spots of little trees. The ribbons of road that criss-crossed the land were speckled with shiny cars. Two ant-like girls strolled chummily on the walk below. (I do hope that they don’t mind the comparison.) Prissy and I reluctantly made our way down. We both mentioned to each other afterward that our knees were beginning to feel stronger.

  I must thank you once more for being so wonderful to me – helping me make the blouse, supplying me with a new Easter dress and all the other wonderful things.

  If it won’t be much to a bother, I’d like to tell the following people the following things:

  Mr. Freeman* – I do hope that I may see your finished painting. In my estimation it should be in the Art Museum along with Winslow Homer and the rest.

 

  Dave – Prissy is very anxious to meet you – likewise Betsy. I do appreciate your following the bus – especially popping out by East Boston.

  Ruthie – The hat is adorable. Mum loves it. I do hope you will have a nice time in Saugus. (Did you sleep last night?)

  Wayne* – My bike feels so uncomfortable and strange. I always used to like it but now I think that I should loosen the front wheel and paint it orange.

 

  Give my love to the family,

  Love,

  Sylvia

  TO Margot Loungway Drekmeier

  Sunday 26 May 1946

  ALS with envelope,

  Estate of Margot Drekmeier

  May 26, 1946

  Dear Margot,

  My mother is shocked and horrified at the fact that it is over a week since I have written to you! There is so much time that I have spent writing stories when I should have been writing to thank you for the perfectly wonderful time that I had over your house! The week has flashed by with a snap of the tail, and yet it seems like years since I have last seen you.

  Before I tell you the things I have been doing, I must thank the whole family for the beautiful time I had visiting. We never need to plan entertainment for each other, because there is always so much to do with stamps and stories that we can never get it all in. I am enclosing a rather expensive, but very good, offer.* Please – please get rid of it. Maybe to Elsa. I do hope that you will be able to sell my other two offers, because my expenses are soaring. I wonder if there is such a thing as a blind stamp collector!

  I finished writing “On the Penthouse Roof” but it came out mushily. My best girl friend (for going to the movies) read both “In the Mummy’s Tomb” and the other one. Since she is exceedingly romantic, she thought that the penthouse roof was the better of the two. I have not yet typed it up, as I did the others. I have, so far, completed three stories and begun a fourth.

  The are something like this, according to subject.

  The Mummy’s Tomb – Murder Mystery

  On the Penthouse Roof Terrible smuggler mystery

  A May Morning – Descriptive

  Stardust A Fairy tale

  I am very anxious to receive a copy of “Feathers.” I mean the story. Remember the five types we’re going to send each other copies of:

  (Love) – (I don’t want that type)

  True-life

  Fairy Tale

  Mystery

  Murder

  Descriptive

  This must be a very short note, because if I wrote a longer letter, it would not get in the mail soon enough. How is Dunkie? and Susie? and the rest of the family? I had a lovely time attending a Rainbow in
stallation* on Friday night. It was beautiful. I talked to one of my family, my brother, in fact, about your “sedentary work” story, or whatever it was. I told it to him, word for word. The only place I added anything to was where you heard the last earthly cries of the victims in the unsealed coffins. After mentioning those burning specimins I just said, “The delicious smell of frying flesh reached my nostrils!” I hope you don’t mind. Do drop me a letter. My uncle and aunt are dropping in for this weekend (seems that a lot of things are dropping.) I’ll write a real letter soon.

  Love

  Sylvia.

  P.S. My name for the stamp offer is Laurice Anduoir – Like your P. P. Lane.

  TO Margot Loungway Drekmeier

  Friday 28 June 1946

  ALS with envelope,

  Estate of Margot Drekmeier

  June 28, 1946

  Dear “Muscles,”

  My mother has just received your exciting letter. She tore it open with shaking hands, and, after finishing reading the contents, she collapsed. I hope that your parents enjoyed that bit of a note as much as the W. B. did. The approving things that you called me were also enjoyed by W. B. since you can translate such difficult languages as the sternal Coopnagle language, I hope that you know who W. B. is.

  Now, to leave that gruesome subject of acknowledging your thank-you “note,” I will ask you – was Elsa sweet enough to buy my stupendously marvelous bargain offers which you so kindly meddled with???

  I had the thrilling experience of going to the dentist on Wednesday. On the way to the bus stop I managed to wriggle out of my mothers commanding grasp, and be absorbed in a huge, awed crowd in the middle of one of Boston’s most trafficy streets. I soon crawled up to the inner edge of the group of people. There, lying in the street I saw a frenzied criminal, being handcuffed by two grim police men. A man whispered in my hearing device, “That’s what you get for resisting the LAW!”