Ariel is the second published collection of Sylvia Plath poems; it appeared two years after her suicide. Famously, her husband Ted Hughes exchanged some of the poems Plath had intended to include for others and made changes in the order. The result is, to my mind, uneven. It contains some excellent poems, among them “The Moon and the Yew Tree,” “Sheep in Fog,” and “Ariel.” Then there are a few I don’t understand (“The Couriers,” for instance). And I’m not sure what to make of two of the most famous poems in the collection, “Lady Lazarus” and “Daddy.” The first is often read as prefiguring her suicide, but I read it instead as the declamation of the survivor of a suicide attempt. Admittedly, it’s disturbing because of the expectance of more attempts, yet overall the voice is exultant. Yet I found the conflation of the speaker’s persona with a concentration camp victim disturbing. This note is repeated in “Daddy.” To my taste, Plath dealt more successfully with complicated feelings arising from the early loss of one’s father in “Colossus,” the title poem of her first collection.
When her submission for the Yale Younger Poets contest (a collection that predated Colossus) failed to win the prize, she journaled: “How ironic, that all my work to overcome my easy poeticisms merely convinces them that I am rough, anti-poetic, unpoetic. My God” (found in Heather Clark, Red Comet, page 563).
This strikes me as the typical dilemma of a gifted poet. The essential first step is immersion in the tradition, which you must break free of to find your own voice. The work in the transition phase may be less pleasing than that of the apprenticeship. I wonder whether, if Plath’s suicide had been thwarted, we’d think of both Colossus and Ariel as products of her journeyman phase, on the way to the mastery I believe she was capable of?
In these years, Plath had the mixed blessing of her own live-in model, tutor, and rival, Ted Hughes. He challenged and encouraged her in her development. But the price was that she shook off the voice of models such as Theodore Roethke to take on the voice of Hughes, which is what some of the less successful poems here strike me as showing. Nevertheless, when I leaf through the collection again, I find much to admire here. ( )

Ariel, the collection of poems I read this week, was a book I found at Half-Priced Books, along with some other works by Plath. I have been interested in Sylvia Plath's novel and writings since I was in high school. I was a little afraid that I might have tended towards The Bell Jar in high school because it just SPOKE to me, and that I would be disappointed in this collection. I sincerely hope that is not the case, because I plan to re-read The Bell Jar this year as an adult, but I must admit, I wasn't impressed with Ariel. Some of the poems were wonderful, but most of them weren't my style. On the other hand, you can tell that Plath was severely depressed as she wrote them, and they certainly broke my heart that such a bright mind could succumb to such a dark place. It truly can effect anyone, and Plath was no exception.
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Edición bilingüe del segundo poemario de Plath, publicado tras su suicidio, en el que la traducción no permite apreciar el maravilloso ritmo de los poemas en su lengua original.
Sylvia Plath es una poeta de un talento excepcional y con una fuerza fuera de toda lógica. ( )

I've just finished reading this collection of poetry, but it is hard to put into words how I feel about it. I very much enjoyed many of the early poems in this volume for their treatment of feminist themes, mythological feeling, and careful use of language, but I got very bogged down in the middle parts of the collection before ending on a high note with "Words." Considering the context in which Plath wrote this collection (during the 9 months prior to her dealth by suicide, and seemingly at a high point of her marital conflict with Ted Hughes) it is not wonder that much of the language evokes altermnating tones of violence and the drudgery of life. I don't know if I would make the entire collection a recommendation, but some of the poems are surely not to be missed. ( )

I have been trying to read more poetry of late, but I think this collection is just a bit too unintelligible for me. Sometimes beautiful, but most often they make no sense. I guess I like to know what a poem is about, rather than a just collection of beautiful words and rhythms. ( )