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The Occult Sylvia Plath: The Hidden Spiritual Life of the Visionary Poet
Explores Sylvia Plath’s enduring interest and active practice in mysticism and the occult from childhood until her tragic death in 1963
• Decodes the alchemical, Qabalistic, hermetic, spiritual, and Tarot-related references in many of Plath’s poems
• Based on more than 15 years of research, including analysis of Plath’s unpublished personal writings from the Plath archives at Indiana University
• Examines the influences of Plath’s parents, her early interests in Hermeticism, and her and husband Ted Hughes’s explorations in the supernatural and the occult
Sharing her more than 15 years of compelling research—including analysis of Sylvia Plath’s unpublished calendars, notebooks, scrapbooks, book annotations, and underlinings, as well as published memoirs, biographies, letters, journals, and interviews with Plath and her husband, friends, and family—Plath scholar Julia Gordon-Bramer reveals Sylvia Plath’s enduring interest and active practice in mysticism and the occult from childhood until her tragic death in 1963. She examines Plath’s early years growing up in a transcendentalist Unitarian church under a brilliant, if stern, Freemason father and a mother who wrote her master’s dissertation on the famous alchemist Paracelsus. She reveals Plath’s early knowledge of Hermeticism, how she devoured books on the occult throughout her life, and how, since adolescence, Plath regularly wrote of premonitory dreams. Examining Plath’s tumultuous marriage with poet Ted Hughes, she looks at their explorations in the supernatural and Hughes’s mentoring of Plath in meditation, crystal-gazing, astrology, Qabalah, Tarot, automatic writing, magical workings, and use of the Ouija board. She also reveals how, at the end of her marriage, Plath used her husband’s hair and fingernails in rituals.
Looking at Plath’s writing and her evolution as a person through mystical, political, personal, and historical lenses, Gordon-Bramer shows how her poems take on radically new, surprising, and universal meanings—explaining why Hughes perpetually denied that Plath was “a confessional poet.” Contrasting the versions in Letters Home with those held in the Plath archives at Indiana University, the author also shows how all occult influences have been rigorously excised from the letters approved for publication by the Plath and Hughes Estate.
Revealing significant, previously undiscovered meanings in Sylvia Plath’s works, much broader than the narrow lens of her tragic autobiography, the author shows how Plath’s writings are deeply rooted in her mystical and occult endeavors.
• Decodes the alchemical, Qabalistic, hermetic, spiritual, and Tarot-related references in many of Plath’s poems
• Based on more than 15 years of research, including analysis of Plath’s unpublished personal writings from the Plath archives at Indiana University
• Examines the influences of Plath’s parents, her early interests in Hermeticism, and her and husband Ted Hughes’s explorations in the supernatural and the occult
Sharing her more than 15 years of compelling research—including analysis of Sylvia Plath’s unpublished calendars, notebooks, scrapbooks, book annotations, and underlinings, as well as published memoirs, biographies, letters, journals, and interviews with Plath and her husband, friends, and family—Plath scholar Julia Gordon-Bramer reveals Sylvia Plath’s enduring interest and active practice in mysticism and the occult from childhood until her tragic death in 1963. She examines Plath’s early years growing up in a transcendentalist Unitarian church under a brilliant, if stern, Freemason father and a mother who wrote her master’s dissertation on the famous alchemist Paracelsus. She reveals Plath’s early knowledge of Hermeticism, how she devoured books on the occult throughout her life, and how, since adolescence, Plath regularly wrote of premonitory dreams. Examining Plath’s tumultuous marriage with poet Ted Hughes, she looks at their explorations in the supernatural and Hughes’s mentoring of Plath in meditation, crystal-gazing, astrology, Qabalah, Tarot, automatic writing, magical workings, and use of the Ouija board. She also reveals how, at the end of her marriage, Plath used her husband’s hair and fingernails in rituals.
Looking at Plath’s writing and her evolution as a person through mystical, political, personal, and historical lenses, Gordon-Bramer shows how her poems take on radically new, surprising, and universal meanings—explaining why Hughes perpetually denied that Plath was “a confessional poet.” Contrasting the versions in Letters Home with those held in the Plath archives at Indiana University, the author also shows how all occult influences have been rigorously excised from the letters approved for publication by the Plath and Hughes Estate.
Revealing significant, previously undiscovered meanings in Sylvia Plath’s works, much broader than the narrow lens of her tragic autobiography, the author shows how Plath’s writings are deeply rooted in her mystical and occult endeavors.
416 pages, Paperback
Published May 7, 2024
About the author
Julia Gordon-Bramer
5 books24 followersJulia Gordon-Bramer is a professional tarot card reader, Sylvia Plath scholar, award-winning writer and poet, and former professor of Humanities and of Graduate Creative Writing at Lindenwood University. She is the author of several books and, in 2013, was voted St. Louis' Best Local Poet. She lives in St. Louis, Missouri.
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
February 4, 2025
Some people might find the title of this book provocative because Sylvia Plath is a much-loved and revered literary figure, whereas the occult is often seen as a degraded form of spirituality, something disreputable and dubious if not downright evil. In fact the book suggests that both Sylvia and her husband, the poet Ted Hughes, downplayed their interest in the occult to avoid alienating readers and critics.
But it is clear from even a cursory reading of Plath’s poems that occult themes arise frequently in them from early adolescence right through to the year she died. Sometimes references are symbolic or metaphorical and sometimes they are explicit, as in her poem, Ouija, inspired by her sessions at the ouija board with her husband.
The glass mouth sucks blood-heat from my forefinger.
The old god dribbles, in return, his words.
Her unpublished diaries and notebooks also reveal her strong interest in mysticism, tarot cards and the occult.
This is all clear from the texts but what is harder to explain is what she and Hughes wanted from their occult studies and why the occult fascinated them so much. I would sum it up in one word: creativity.
Hughes, certainly, had a lifelong commitment to occult practice as a way of gaining access to unconscious processes, of intensifying his experiences and expanding the reach of his imagination. He devoted himself to the god of creativity.
Plath’s relationship with the occult, it seems to me, was more ambivalent and less steadfast. She had a questing, probing intellect and, although she rebelled against the Unitarian God of her childhood, she continued to grapple with religious and spiritual ideas all her life.
She also had an ambivalent relationship with Hughes. His influence on her was strong but, at times, and with good reason, she tried to to break free of it. I think, therefore, we have to be careful how we treat some of Plath’s own words. The context can make a lot of difference. For instance, when she writes in a letter: “I get these semi-clairvoyant states, which I suppose are just diabolic intuition,” you have to remember that she’s talking about intercepting a phone call to her husband from his new lover, Assia. She had heard Assia speaking in a disguised voice and she was so angry that, after handing the handset to Hughes, she ripped the phone cord out of the wall.
The author, Julia Gordon-Bramer, is more than sympathetic to occult studies; she is a professional tarot card reader. She is also a Sylvia Plath scholar and knows Plath’s life, letters and works really well. She sums up Plath’s interest in the occult as follows:
The book is not an analysis of Plath’s poetry, though. It is a biography, leaning very heavily into Plath’s interest in the occult and drawing attention to it even in phrases such as that one I quoted where she is talking about her “diabolic intuition.”
It’s a very readable book and I learned a lot from it. The subject matter is fascinating. You can look in any chapter at random and find something of interest. You don’t have to know anything about the occult. You don’t even have to know the poems because Plath’s life and her intellectual interests outside of her work were intense.
One of the things I liked best is seeing the sentences and passages in Middlemarch that Plath had underlined. Plath’s life is “weirdly synchronous” with things that happen in the novel and her underlinings are highly suggestive of how they resonated with her on a very personal level. This somehow took me into Plath’s emotional state in a very alive way.
Gordon-Bramer is completely objective in the way she depicts the relationship between the two poets. The book doesn’t end with Plath’s death but goes on to describe Hughes’s career, his tributes to Plath and the turmoil caused in his life by the constant efforts of other people to “shift her whole work into her life as if somehow her life was more interesting and was more the subject of debate than what she wrote.”
I found all this described very dispassionately and fairly.
One of the strange things about Emma Tennant’s memoir, Burnt Diaries, which includes a description of her affair with Hughes after Plaths’ death, is that she admits that she was not interested only in him; her journalistic instincts led her to secretly hope for some inside scoop on Plath. He had to tell her, ‘Don’t ask about Sylvia.’
It was helpful, therefore, to get some insight into what he must have felt about this unrelenting interest in Sylvia.
I had some reservations about the book, though. I’m not a Sylvia Plath scholar and I’m not sure to what extent it can be trusted on all aspects of Plath’s life. I think the author may have occasionally given occult significance to some statements that were ambivalent or metaphorical and underplayed Plath’s attempts to root herself in mundane, physical spaces, in motherhood and earthly things.
I was drawn to read the book chiefly because Emma Tennant’s memoir was intriguing and I was looking for something factual and less impressionistic than that. I think this served that purpose well. It was mostly convincing and, as I said, fair.
The author has written a book on Plath’s poetry, which I haven’t read. She has also written a book called Tarot Life Lessons, which I might look into at a future date.
But having pondered most of Plath’s poems while reading this biography, I’m inclined now to let us both rest.
We have come so far, it is over.
But it is clear from even a cursory reading of Plath’s poems that occult themes arise frequently in them from early adolescence right through to the year she died. Sometimes references are symbolic or metaphorical and sometimes they are explicit, as in her poem, Ouija, inspired by her sessions at the ouija board with her husband.
The glass mouth sucks blood-heat from my forefinger.
The old god dribbles, in return, his words.
Her unpublished diaries and notebooks also reveal her strong interest in mysticism, tarot cards and the occult.
This is all clear from the texts but what is harder to explain is what she and Hughes wanted from their occult studies and why the occult fascinated them so much. I would sum it up in one word: creativity.
Hughes, certainly, had a lifelong commitment to occult practice as a way of gaining access to unconscious processes, of intensifying his experiences and expanding the reach of his imagination. He devoted himself to the god of creativity.
Plath’s relationship with the occult, it seems to me, was more ambivalent and less steadfast. She had a questing, probing intellect and, although she rebelled against the Unitarian God of her childhood, she continued to grapple with religious and spiritual ideas all her life.
She also had an ambivalent relationship with Hughes. His influence on her was strong but, at times, and with good reason, she tried to to break free of it. I think, therefore, we have to be careful how we treat some of Plath’s own words. The context can make a lot of difference. For instance, when she writes in a letter: “I get these semi-clairvoyant states, which I suppose are just diabolic intuition,” you have to remember that she’s talking about intercepting a phone call to her husband from his new lover, Assia. She had heard Assia speaking in a disguised voice and she was so angry that, after handing the handset to Hughes, she ripped the phone cord out of the wall.
The author, Julia Gordon-Bramer, is more than sympathetic to occult studies; she is a professional tarot card reader. She is also a Sylvia Plath scholar and knows Plath’s life, letters and works really well. She sums up Plath’s interest in the occult as follows:
Magic, for Plath, was not faith. It was a multidimensional mystical system of language doing sextuple duty using allegories, symbolism, metaphors of mythology, world events, history, art, astrology, and alchemy. Magic was the power of words.
The book is not an analysis of Plath’s poetry, though. It is a biography, leaning very heavily into Plath’s interest in the occult and drawing attention to it even in phrases such as that one I quoted where she is talking about her “diabolic intuition.”
It’s a very readable book and I learned a lot from it. The subject matter is fascinating. You can look in any chapter at random and find something of interest. You don’t have to know anything about the occult. You don’t even have to know the poems because Plath’s life and her intellectual interests outside of her work were intense.
One of the things I liked best is seeing the sentences and passages in Middlemarch that Plath had underlined. Plath’s life is “weirdly synchronous” with things that happen in the novel and her underlinings are highly suggestive of how they resonated with her on a very personal level. This somehow took me into Plath’s emotional state in a very alive way.
Gordon-Bramer is completely objective in the way she depicts the relationship between the two poets. The book doesn’t end with Plath’s death but goes on to describe Hughes’s career, his tributes to Plath and the turmoil caused in his life by the constant efforts of other people to “shift her whole work into her life as if somehow her life was more interesting and was more the subject of debate than what she wrote.”
I found all this described very dispassionately and fairly.
One of the strange things about Emma Tennant’s memoir, Burnt Diaries, which includes a description of her affair with Hughes after Plaths’ death, is that she admits that she was not interested only in him; her journalistic instincts led her to secretly hope for some inside scoop on Plath. He had to tell her, ‘Don’t ask about Sylvia.’
It was helpful, therefore, to get some insight into what he must have felt about this unrelenting interest in Sylvia.
I had some reservations about the book, though. I’m not a Sylvia Plath scholar and I’m not sure to what extent it can be trusted on all aspects of Plath’s life. I think the author may have occasionally given occult significance to some statements that were ambivalent or metaphorical and underplayed Plath’s attempts to root herself in mundane, physical spaces, in motherhood and earthly things.
I was drawn to read the book chiefly because Emma Tennant’s memoir was intriguing and I was looking for something factual and less impressionistic than that. I think this served that purpose well. It was mostly convincing and, as I said, fair.
The author has written a book on Plath’s poetry, which I haven’t read. She has also written a book called Tarot Life Lessons, which I might look into at a future date.
But having pondered most of Plath’s poems while reading this biography, I’m inclined now to let us both rest.
We have come so far, it is over.
Read
October 25, 2023I am thrilled and privileged to have just read this new not-just-another-biography of Sylvia Plath. Poet Ted Hughes' work in magic, the occult, mysticism and astrology (as well as their influence in his poetry) is well-known and well-documented. Much less that of his first wife in the major biographies of her life beyond passing touches, or has been bypassed altogether. Julia Gordon-Bramer has previously deciphered the Qabalist references and allusions and written about Plath's interests in magic, witchcraft, the occult, mysticism and world events. For well over a decade, Gordon-Bramer has delved into the archives and both published and unpublished materials and had recourse to previous biographies of both poets and the memoirs of friends in order to build a complete picture, as Plath deserved. Here we have a full study covering Plath's entire oeuvre against her biography and the lives of her parents and forefathers. Such books are usually arcane and foreboding to those unfamiliar with such subjects but this one is not so, it is written so as to be readable and is helpful with concise explanatory footnotes in places. Many of the last chapters of this book discuss Hughes' life in the aftermath of the deaths of Plath and Assia Wevill by suicide and how so many of their lives were haunted by Plath's ghost. The book concludes with the paragraph: 'As those years went by after Plath’s death, poring over her journals and letters and arranging her poems and short stories, Ted Hughes had fallen more in love and under Plath’s spell than he ever had in her lifetime. Plath’s mythology touches on eternal themes, and her history touches on contemporary ones. Perhaps with Qabalah, alchemy, and astrology working the occult equations, Sylvia Plath created a spell for obsession, to be someone forever longed for whom Hughes could never have again. The spell has worked on us all.'
As such this book is sure, very soon, to become a key text for future studies into the deeper, esoteric meanings of Plath's work.
As such this book is sure, very soon, to become a key text for future studies into the deeper, esoteric meanings of Plath's work.
March 26, 2025
Ted if you have no haters I’m dead
February 15, 2026
this is a 3.5 stars for me, I rounded up just because I love reading about sylvia plath. I hate to say it, because I know she spent 15 years on this and the back blurb says she is an award winning writer, and in fact a former graduate degree level writing professor, but this is not well written. it's one of those books that I wouldn't really recommend unless you're really intent on the information. there were so many sentences where I was just like, what does she mean??? she chooses to put the notes at the end of each chapter, which...I can see why most people don't choose to do that. I'm sure it's convenient, if you're looking at the notes, but I think most people just want to read the book without a ton of cross referencing. as it is, she also puts sources identified by letters - there's a glossary of these in the back - right into the text. having the notes at the end of each chapter makes a little barrier, makes it just a little more likely that you'll stop reading and put the book down, makes it a little choppier.
the book is structured biographically, starting from sylvia's childhood and progressing basically until ted hughes' death 35 years after hers. it makes sense that you would want to go back and pick up the threads of occult influence from the beginning but it's mostly unitarianism and philosophy. occultism is thin on the ground for this whole early section of biography. the thing I appreciated most about this book was the occult lens, that took in not just actual occult practices like tarot and ouija boards and bibliomancy and the burning the letters rites, but ways in which sylvia found connections in the books she read, like the silver pencil, little women, and very notably, middlemarch, to her own life. gordon-bramer also makes other connections that seem more like reaches, saying that surely sylvia would have been aware of this or look at the timing of that. she wanted to put a rose on her book cover and that's a symbol of rosicrucianism. ok, roses have a lot of magical meanings and connections, so is that why? there's a lot of just rather straight biography, a lot of exposition about what was going on in the world at the time, the cuban missile crisis, etc.
there were sometimes details I haven't seen elsewhere, such as assia wevill putting belladonna in her eyes to seduce men, which was fascinating to me. the author makes a lot of references to her other book, fixed stars govern a life: decoding sylvia plath, which seems to be about occult symbolism - and probably current events - in plath's poetry. which, that's all well and good, but I don't have that book, so I wouldn't have minded some actual repetition of things in here, it would have been interesting even to take, say, the most occult influenced poem she found and go through it in this book as an example.
in the end, yes, I would say that ted and sylvia were more occulty than is generally talked about (although certainly the ouija board etc. have been mentioned before), in no small part because it's still not all that comfortable to be frank about occult beliefs and practices, never mind in the late 50s and early 60s, and partly because some people close to them who knew about their occult practices tended to attribute some of the tragedy of it all to those occult influences. which isn't surprising, it's not the viewpoint I would take, but also as a straight biographer, that's probably not your angle, sylvia plath killed herself because she got too deep into the occult. there are lots of other reasons lying around on the surface, from her mental health history, possible pmdd, the collapse of her marriage, patriarchy, a medication she was prescribed she'd taken before with bad results but under the british name probably didn't recognize, etc. and to be sure, gordon-bramer doesn't take this position either, but she does mention it.
ted hughes seems to have been more into ceremonial magic things - kabbalah, golden dawn, LBRP - as well as a very strong dose of astrology and an indiscriminate shamanism where he was happy to take whatever from whatever culture. sylvia was more interested in conventional religions, including unitarianism, her sort of spiritual homebase, and towards the very end of her life, investigating catholicism (which is a very mystical form of christianity, really). she also was kind of the designated tarot reader in the relationship - there was almost this division of labor where ted was going to be the shaman and astrologer and she was assigned to reading the tarot. she seems to have had quite a bit of difficulty with it, to be honest, recommitting herself to learning it or getting serious with it again and again. the ouija board was a very sort of contested territory for the couple where they could never quite decide if they were contacting spirits or just battling it out on the board with their own egos. ted was very into hypnotism and also a bit into old grimoires which seem to be more on the ceremonial magic side. each was always crediting the other with prophetic or psychic dreams, visions, writing, and knowledge.
so yes, they were into the occult. I'm less interested in ted's more masculine approach, obsessed with kabbalistic order and finding some sort of universal key that will reveal the secret to the universe. sylvia of course died at 30, so who knows how witchy she could have become - or not. but in the end, she wasn't a straight up witch, anyway. the occult practices were subsumed to the writing, it was always a way to get deeper into the writing, to escape the surface level and convention.
but yeah, to extract this you have to go through this sort of biographical structure (for all I know, this book is also kabbalistically arranged) peppered with head scratching sections and sentences. (all the chapter heads are titles of plath poems which...I don't know if I liked that or not. I feel like maybe the author worked really hard relating a poem to a biological section of plath's life and it wasn't something I felt like diving into. for me it made me a little wistful like oh, I love that poem, I wish I was reading that now). for example, talking about the poet w.s. merwin, a friend of ted's, she writes, "bill merwin lived with 'ruthless disregard for inessentials' [this quote is from stevenson's plath bio] and often traveled between the continents, residing in england, france, portugal, and spain". to me, that means he didn't own a lot and was the sort to put it all in a backpack and relocate. but in the next paragraph, the author says that merwin's wife finds ted and sylvia a tiny apartment in london, "which she furnished from items stored in the merwin's attic", and then talks about their "palatial residence". so now there's a contradiction, but it's just never going to be resolved, we're moving on. there were just so many things like that, contradictions, ambiguities, writing that I didn't understand. also, the book often went over things more than once, talking about the ouija board use and then later bringing it up as if this was the first time it was being mentioned.
the author says at one point that plath's real genius, unseen for 50 years (until this book apparently) is her ability to layer a multiplicity of meanings into everything, so that you think she's just writing autobiographically but she's also talking about current events and making a literary reference and using an anagram and adding an occult tagline. which...is that her real genius? I can understand the excitement in writing something that refers to three different things at once and having it work on these different levels. I can understand the excitement in reading something like that and realizing the different levels. but at some point, there are diminishing returns. some of the references are going to be too personal for a reader to understand, some of them are going to be too obscure. no one can read three reference books per poem to unpack all that, and there is always going to be what the reader brings to the poem. the writer is always going to being a personal background, some of which will be unknowable, no matter how many biographies are written, but the reader also brings their own experiences and associations. ted hughes, in particular, seemed to take a lot of satisfaction out of layering things into his poems and then proclaiming everyone was too stupid to understand the deep secrets he'd hidden in plain sight. in the end, I think the value of poetry lies between the author and the reader, in communicating in words something that can't be communicated in words. if you read full fathom five and it means something to you and makes you feel something, that's good enough. can it be enriched by relating it to shakespeare? sure, ok. by applying biographical details from the author's life? ok. but in the end how deep are you going to go? if sylvia put in this many syllables and this many lines, which meant x and y to her, do you need that piece of it? maybe something you're bringing from your own life, which she never could have layered into it, that is much more meaningful to you, or changes the meaning from her intent. I guess, unless you're getting a phd, I don't know how valuable it is to try to unravel every influence and possible reference in a piece of writing. life is short. then again, I keep reading biographical material about sylvia plath.
the book is structured biographically, starting from sylvia's childhood and progressing basically until ted hughes' death 35 years after hers. it makes sense that you would want to go back and pick up the threads of occult influence from the beginning but it's mostly unitarianism and philosophy. occultism is thin on the ground for this whole early section of biography. the thing I appreciated most about this book was the occult lens, that took in not just actual occult practices like tarot and ouija boards and bibliomancy and the burning the letters rites, but ways in which sylvia found connections in the books she read, like the silver pencil, little women, and very notably, middlemarch, to her own life. gordon-bramer also makes other connections that seem more like reaches, saying that surely sylvia would have been aware of this or look at the timing of that. she wanted to put a rose on her book cover and that's a symbol of rosicrucianism. ok, roses have a lot of magical meanings and connections, so is that why? there's a lot of just rather straight biography, a lot of exposition about what was going on in the world at the time, the cuban missile crisis, etc.
there were sometimes details I haven't seen elsewhere, such as assia wevill putting belladonna in her eyes to seduce men, which was fascinating to me. the author makes a lot of references to her other book, fixed stars govern a life: decoding sylvia plath, which seems to be about occult symbolism - and probably current events - in plath's poetry. which, that's all well and good, but I don't have that book, so I wouldn't have minded some actual repetition of things in here, it would have been interesting even to take, say, the most occult influenced poem she found and go through it in this book as an example.
in the end, yes, I would say that ted and sylvia were more occulty than is generally talked about (although certainly the ouija board etc. have been mentioned before), in no small part because it's still not all that comfortable to be frank about occult beliefs and practices, never mind in the late 50s and early 60s, and partly because some people close to them who knew about their occult practices tended to attribute some of the tragedy of it all to those occult influences. which isn't surprising, it's not the viewpoint I would take, but also as a straight biographer, that's probably not your angle, sylvia plath killed herself because she got too deep into the occult. there are lots of other reasons lying around on the surface, from her mental health history, possible pmdd, the collapse of her marriage, patriarchy, a medication she was prescribed she'd taken before with bad results but under the british name probably didn't recognize, etc. and to be sure, gordon-bramer doesn't take this position either, but she does mention it.
ted hughes seems to have been more into ceremonial magic things - kabbalah, golden dawn, LBRP - as well as a very strong dose of astrology and an indiscriminate shamanism where he was happy to take whatever from whatever culture. sylvia was more interested in conventional religions, including unitarianism, her sort of spiritual homebase, and towards the very end of her life, investigating catholicism (which is a very mystical form of christianity, really). she also was kind of the designated tarot reader in the relationship - there was almost this division of labor where ted was going to be the shaman and astrologer and she was assigned to reading the tarot. she seems to have had quite a bit of difficulty with it, to be honest, recommitting herself to learning it or getting serious with it again and again. the ouija board was a very sort of contested territory for the couple where they could never quite decide if they were contacting spirits or just battling it out on the board with their own egos. ted was very into hypnotism and also a bit into old grimoires which seem to be more on the ceremonial magic side. each was always crediting the other with prophetic or psychic dreams, visions, writing, and knowledge.
so yes, they were into the occult. I'm less interested in ted's more masculine approach, obsessed with kabbalistic order and finding some sort of universal key that will reveal the secret to the universe. sylvia of course died at 30, so who knows how witchy she could have become - or not. but in the end, she wasn't a straight up witch, anyway. the occult practices were subsumed to the writing, it was always a way to get deeper into the writing, to escape the surface level and convention.
but yeah, to extract this you have to go through this sort of biographical structure (for all I know, this book is also kabbalistically arranged) peppered with head scratching sections and sentences. (all the chapter heads are titles of plath poems which...I don't know if I liked that or not. I feel like maybe the author worked really hard relating a poem to a biological section of plath's life and it wasn't something I felt like diving into. for me it made me a little wistful like oh, I love that poem, I wish I was reading that now). for example, talking about the poet w.s. merwin, a friend of ted's, she writes, "bill merwin lived with 'ruthless disregard for inessentials' [this quote is from stevenson's plath bio] and often traveled between the continents, residing in england, france, portugal, and spain". to me, that means he didn't own a lot and was the sort to put it all in a backpack and relocate. but in the next paragraph, the author says that merwin's wife finds ted and sylvia a tiny apartment in london, "which she furnished from items stored in the merwin's attic", and then talks about their "palatial residence". so now there's a contradiction, but it's just never going to be resolved, we're moving on. there were just so many things like that, contradictions, ambiguities, writing that I didn't understand. also, the book often went over things more than once, talking about the ouija board use and then later bringing it up as if this was the first time it was being mentioned.
the author says at one point that plath's real genius, unseen for 50 years (until this book apparently) is her ability to layer a multiplicity of meanings into everything, so that you think she's just writing autobiographically but she's also talking about current events and making a literary reference and using an anagram and adding an occult tagline. which...is that her real genius? I can understand the excitement in writing something that refers to three different things at once and having it work on these different levels. I can understand the excitement in reading something like that and realizing the different levels. but at some point, there are diminishing returns. some of the references are going to be too personal for a reader to understand, some of them are going to be too obscure. no one can read three reference books per poem to unpack all that, and there is always going to be what the reader brings to the poem. the writer is always going to being a personal background, some of which will be unknowable, no matter how many biographies are written, but the reader also brings their own experiences and associations. ted hughes, in particular, seemed to take a lot of satisfaction out of layering things into his poems and then proclaiming everyone was too stupid to understand the deep secrets he'd hidden in plain sight. in the end, I think the value of poetry lies between the author and the reader, in communicating in words something that can't be communicated in words. if you read full fathom five and it means something to you and makes you feel something, that's good enough. can it be enriched by relating it to shakespeare? sure, ok. by applying biographical details from the author's life? ok. but in the end how deep are you going to go? if sylvia put in this many syllables and this many lines, which meant x and y to her, do you need that piece of it? maybe something you're bringing from your own life, which she never could have layered into it, that is much more meaningful to you, or changes the meaning from her intent. I guess, unless you're getting a phd, I don't know how valuable it is to try to unravel every influence and possible reference in a piece of writing. life is short. then again, I keep reading biographical material about sylvia plath.
March 7, 2026
I’ve read so many books on Plath over the past 25 years that I keep thinking there can’t be anything new worth learning. And yet…here I go again.
This book definitely scratched that itch.
It’s obvious to me that Plath is a mystical poet. Her best poems feel like a hex and a conjuring. As Hughes said, she’s one of the truest mystics of our times.
And she’s open in her journals and letters about using tarot, Ouija, and believing in ghosts, even the spirit of other writers like Yeats, as she died in a flat he’d lived in.
This book goes much deeper into the trajectory of her spiritual life, beliefs, and how it was reflected in her writing.
This keenly interests me because I’ve had my own spiritual journey as a poet, and…full disclosure…Plath has been a part of it.
I visited her grave in England when I was 22 studying abroad at Cambridge. I brought gifts, a long letter, and I cried for a long while.
Since then, she’s come to me in dreams at pivotal life moments, and her messages always came true.
I was startled to find out years later that I’m not alone in this experience of Plath: there are many people who claim communion with her ghost.
Ted Hughes was even among them.
I had further interest in Hughes’ occult interests. It’s frustratingly unnamed in too many of these stories that Hughes is mentally ill too. He even admits as much in some of his writing. It’s annoying that Plath is framed as the only unstable one.
Hughes is a textbook narcissist. It’s one of the most severe mental illnesses someone can have.
And if I have one gripe about this book it’s about how it normalizes and glazes over his abuse. That man is guilty of more than just chronic cheating, but also severe domestic violence and emotional, psychological, and financial abuse.
Driving victims to suicide is a common outcome from narcissistic abuse, especially borderlines like Plath, who are children of narcissists or who experienced childhood trauma or orphaning.
As a borderline myself, I’ve known narcissistic men who were practicing warlocks, and I’d begun to suspect Hughes was likely one too. This book confirmed that beyond a shadow of a doubt. I had no idea he was that deep in black magic and spell casting. But it makes sense in the context of patterns I’ve seen with narcissists and it provided a lot of insight into how they operate and his lifelong fixation and obsession with her despite his role in breaking her…and it also revealed the lifelong karma a warlock gets after dabbling with a borderline with her own magic powers.
This book is very thorough, and I learned a lot of nuggets of information I didn’t know before. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. It’s not all supernatural fluff and woo: it reads of the spiritual journey and questioning of two poets and how that braided into their personal lives, their reading interests, their beliefs, and their writing work.
BUT…it’s worth noting again…it goes WAY TOO EASY on Hughes, practically normalizing chronic infidelity. At one point, the author said his only sin was loving unstable women.
His ONLY sin?!
The audacity of using the word “loving!”
The author doesn’t censor claims of his domestic violence, but it seems the author isn’t aware of the unabridged letters released five years ago that revealed the true horrors of her abuse at his hand. They’re never mentioned.
At one point, it even said, “it’s important to note that these women were not with him by force. They were by choice.”
Oh f**** that mess.
The man preyed on women young enough to be his daughters and he groomed women who were already severely wounded into easy isolation and codependency. That’s classic predator behavior.
He had multiple suicides in his past, not to mention one kid committed suicide, one was murdered by a parent, another attempted suicide and also married a man who beat her….
Yeah, let’s refrain from sainting or normalizing this man. He traumatizes. And the things he accused of Plath were his own projections.
Frankly, Ted Hughes got off far too easy in his life, even if he was forever haunted by and obsessed with Plath. He made millions off of Plath’s work. He won copious awards. He kept abusing women. He kept lying and cheating. He frolicked with royalty.
Cry me a river that the “maenad” feminists, as he called them, terrorized the poor narcissist with accountability and TRUTH.
I spent years saying I didn’t blame Hughes, that mental health is complex, that he was a jerk for cheating, but that’s all.
But then I read her uncensored letters.
And screw that: Ted Hughes is the vampire she said he was. He’s a monster. He deserves his moment of reckoning.
I said what I said. 👩⚖️
Still, this was an excellent book with fascinating insights into Plath, Hughes, and even Assia.
This book definitely scratched that itch.
It’s obvious to me that Plath is a mystical poet. Her best poems feel like a hex and a conjuring. As Hughes said, she’s one of the truest mystics of our times.
And she’s open in her journals and letters about using tarot, Ouija, and believing in ghosts, even the spirit of other writers like Yeats, as she died in a flat he’d lived in.
This book goes much deeper into the trajectory of her spiritual life, beliefs, and how it was reflected in her writing.
This keenly interests me because I’ve had my own spiritual journey as a poet, and…full disclosure…Plath has been a part of it.
I visited her grave in England when I was 22 studying abroad at Cambridge. I brought gifts, a long letter, and I cried for a long while.
Since then, she’s come to me in dreams at pivotal life moments, and her messages always came true.
I was startled to find out years later that I’m not alone in this experience of Plath: there are many people who claim communion with her ghost.
Ted Hughes was even among them.
I had further interest in Hughes’ occult interests. It’s frustratingly unnamed in too many of these stories that Hughes is mentally ill too. He even admits as much in some of his writing. It’s annoying that Plath is framed as the only unstable one.
Hughes is a textbook narcissist. It’s one of the most severe mental illnesses someone can have.
And if I have one gripe about this book it’s about how it normalizes and glazes over his abuse. That man is guilty of more than just chronic cheating, but also severe domestic violence and emotional, psychological, and financial abuse.
Driving victims to suicide is a common outcome from narcissistic abuse, especially borderlines like Plath, who are children of narcissists or who experienced childhood trauma or orphaning.
As a borderline myself, I’ve known narcissistic men who were practicing warlocks, and I’d begun to suspect Hughes was likely one too. This book confirmed that beyond a shadow of a doubt. I had no idea he was that deep in black magic and spell casting. But it makes sense in the context of patterns I’ve seen with narcissists and it provided a lot of insight into how they operate and his lifelong fixation and obsession with her despite his role in breaking her…and it also revealed the lifelong karma a warlock gets after dabbling with a borderline with her own magic powers.
This book is very thorough, and I learned a lot of nuggets of information I didn’t know before. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. It’s not all supernatural fluff and woo: it reads of the spiritual journey and questioning of two poets and how that braided into their personal lives, their reading interests, their beliefs, and their writing work.
BUT…it’s worth noting again…it goes WAY TOO EASY on Hughes, practically normalizing chronic infidelity. At one point, the author said his only sin was loving unstable women.
His ONLY sin?!
The audacity of using the word “loving!”
The author doesn’t censor claims of his domestic violence, but it seems the author isn’t aware of the unabridged letters released five years ago that revealed the true horrors of her abuse at his hand. They’re never mentioned.
At one point, it even said, “it’s important to note that these women were not with him by force. They were by choice.”
Oh f**** that mess.
The man preyed on women young enough to be his daughters and he groomed women who were already severely wounded into easy isolation and codependency. That’s classic predator behavior.
He had multiple suicides in his past, not to mention one kid committed suicide, one was murdered by a parent, another attempted suicide and also married a man who beat her….
Yeah, let’s refrain from sainting or normalizing this man. He traumatizes. And the things he accused of Plath were his own projections.
Frankly, Ted Hughes got off far too easy in his life, even if he was forever haunted by and obsessed with Plath. He made millions off of Plath’s work. He won copious awards. He kept abusing women. He kept lying and cheating. He frolicked with royalty.
Cry me a river that the “maenad” feminists, as he called them, terrorized the poor narcissist with accountability and TRUTH.
I spent years saying I didn’t blame Hughes, that mental health is complex, that he was a jerk for cheating, but that’s all.
But then I read her uncensored letters.
And screw that: Ted Hughes is the vampire she said he was. He’s a monster. He deserves his moment of reckoning.
I said what I said. 👩⚖️
Still, this was an excellent book with fascinating insights into Plath, Hughes, and even Assia.
June 12, 2025
Julia Gordon-Bramer's unrelentingly excellent biography, "The Occult Sylvia Plath," is a magical mystery tour of a read. As a book--as an accomplishment--it's a tour-de-force. Gordon-Bramer, utilizing archival evidence as intriguing as it is illuminating, has written a groundbreaking and fascinating account of the life of one of America's greatest poets. In the bargain, she has written a similar account of much of the life of one of England's great poets, and Plath's husband, Ted Hughes.
In fact, the author has said her book is a "biography of the mysticism" of the iconic literary couple. Some of the most compelling arguments Gordon-Bramer makes for Plath having a far greater interest in "occult" matters (a word that really just means "hidden," despite a more sinister significance some ascribe to it) is by making use of seldom explored primary sources, such as the words Plath would underline or comments she would scribble in the margins of books she was reading.
This book is eminently enjoyable to read, and other readers may well find themselves making--as I did--many such annotations in their own copies. I see I've written many emphatic "!" 's, "Yes!" 's "Wow!" 's, etc, along with lots of "int." 's for "interesting," and even an occasional "LOL," as the author quotes a number of funny things said by Plath and others, and at times reveals a winkingly wry sense of humor herself.
Plath was an endlessly interesting person, and, as an "over-achiever," at times almost superhumanly impressive--as was her "match," Ted Hughes, as we see when he is introduced, and Gordon-Bramer provides many engrossing details of their intense and troubled love. She does this while chronicling the at times almost miraculous creativity that they shared, and which was meaningfully fueled by delving into occult practices.
There are so many absorbing elements in this book. On the lighter side we have detailed accounts of Plath's many boyfriends [kept] "on a string" (p. 101), and on the darker side her struggles with her reactions to the world outside and inside of herself. Unlike, apparently, many who write on the relationship between these two literary colossuses, the author treats both Sylvia and Ted with a compassionate fairness.
Gordon-Bramer, in addition to having her own mystical "cred"--being, among other things, a professional tarot card reader, is an award-winning fiction writer and published poet, and so it is unsurprising that her prose here demonstrates a splendidly competent way with words. Her admixture of an obvious depth of feeling underneath tempered by a controlled tone on top reminds me of the pleasures of reading the great historian, Barbara Tuchman. Consider Gordon-Bramer's take on Plath's last day alive:
"It is no secret that Plath was drawn to the dark side. In more vigorous and healthier days, she would have triumphed over it. However, given this series of inimical events that included crippling flu, one of the coldest winters in London on record, the loneliness of separation, and depression, that dark side defeated her..."
I've chosen that passage somewhat ironically, because, while the author mentions (of course) Plath's depression here, the major thrust of this book--of Gordon-Bramer's Plathian scholarship--is to vanquish the image of Sylvia Plath as "just" a brilliant depressive/hysteric, writing ingenious "confessional" poems that are mostly autobiographical. That is still the "accepted" view of her. This book **should** alter that.
From now on, Plath scholars will be negligent if don't at least explore the trail blazed by this author (who has also written more specifically analytical books and articles on Plath's poetry). It is a trail showing how significant Qabalah, Ouija boards, tarot, and other occult practices (and even contemporary and historical events) were to the poet (We find Hughes' charming "Southpaw" remark regarding this here), and how much more richness and meaning her exquisitely crafted and searingly impactful verse can now be seen to yield.
In "The Occult Sylvia Plath," Julia Gordon-Bramer succeeds in replacing that "establishment" version (endorsed by many in academia who find it a useful narrative, for one thing) with--and once the primary-sourced evidence presented in this volume is considered, it becomes quite undeniable--a version that celebrates a "mystical poet of...the very highest tradition," as her husband, and mentoring partner in occult matters, Ted Hughes, affirmed. Very highly recommended!
In fact, the author has said her book is a "biography of the mysticism" of the iconic literary couple. Some of the most compelling arguments Gordon-Bramer makes for Plath having a far greater interest in "occult" matters (a word that really just means "hidden," despite a more sinister significance some ascribe to it) is by making use of seldom explored primary sources, such as the words Plath would underline or comments she would scribble in the margins of books she was reading.
This book is eminently enjoyable to read, and other readers may well find themselves making--as I did--many such annotations in their own copies. I see I've written many emphatic "!" 's, "Yes!" 's "Wow!" 's, etc, along with lots of "int." 's for "interesting," and even an occasional "LOL," as the author quotes a number of funny things said by Plath and others, and at times reveals a winkingly wry sense of humor herself.
Plath was an endlessly interesting person, and, as an "over-achiever," at times almost superhumanly impressive--as was her "match," Ted Hughes, as we see when he is introduced, and Gordon-Bramer provides many engrossing details of their intense and troubled love. She does this while chronicling the at times almost miraculous creativity that they shared, and which was meaningfully fueled by delving into occult practices.
There are so many absorbing elements in this book. On the lighter side we have detailed accounts of Plath's many boyfriends [kept] "on a string" (p. 101), and on the darker side her struggles with her reactions to the world outside and inside of herself. Unlike, apparently, many who write on the relationship between these two literary colossuses, the author treats both Sylvia and Ted with a compassionate fairness.
Gordon-Bramer, in addition to having her own mystical "cred"--being, among other things, a professional tarot card reader, is an award-winning fiction writer and published poet, and so it is unsurprising that her prose here demonstrates a splendidly competent way with words. Her admixture of an obvious depth of feeling underneath tempered by a controlled tone on top reminds me of the pleasures of reading the great historian, Barbara Tuchman. Consider Gordon-Bramer's take on Plath's last day alive:
"It is no secret that Plath was drawn to the dark side. In more vigorous and healthier days, she would have triumphed over it. However, given this series of inimical events that included crippling flu, one of the coldest winters in London on record, the loneliness of separation, and depression, that dark side defeated her..."
I've chosen that passage somewhat ironically, because, while the author mentions (of course) Plath's depression here, the major thrust of this book--of Gordon-Bramer's Plathian scholarship--is to vanquish the image of Sylvia Plath as "just" a brilliant depressive/hysteric, writing ingenious "confessional" poems that are mostly autobiographical. That is still the "accepted" view of her. This book **should** alter that.
From now on, Plath scholars will be negligent if don't at least explore the trail blazed by this author (who has also written more specifically analytical books and articles on Plath's poetry). It is a trail showing how significant Qabalah, Ouija boards, tarot, and other occult practices (and even contemporary and historical events) were to the poet (We find Hughes' charming "Southpaw" remark regarding this here), and how much more richness and meaning her exquisitely crafted and searingly impactful verse can now be seen to yield.
In "The Occult Sylvia Plath," Julia Gordon-Bramer succeeds in replacing that "establishment" version (endorsed by many in academia who find it a useful narrative, for one thing) with--and once the primary-sourced evidence presented in this volume is considered, it becomes quite undeniable--a version that celebrates a "mystical poet of...the very highest tradition," as her husband, and mentoring partner in occult matters, Ted Hughes, affirmed. Very highly recommended!
February 11, 2024
The Occult Sylvia Plath is a biographical account of poet and author Sylvia Plath's life through the perspective of the occult which had a huge impact on her life and writing.
I was surprised to learn that her work was inspired by and influenced by various occult subjects including astrology, the kabbalah, alchemy, and the tarot, to name a few. Her mercurial temperament coupled with her mystical "lifestyle" offered a different perspective on her writings. Magic became muse, words became spells, and poetry became codex. Her life became arcanely directed towards individuation and rebirth as the soul's work became the life's work... the embodiment of the artistic journey.
I found the chapters on her upbringing and her parents to be particularly interesting as their own interests in the occult imprinted Sylvia from a very early age. These chapters made it seem as though she was born into and lived in a secret order her entire life, one that she could not escape yet whose purpose was to transcend the visible and pragmatic. Sylvia drew mystics, artists, and troubled souls into her orbit throughout her life who were both hierophants and devils on her mystical journey.
Sylvia's husband Ted Hughes was a magician type character whose own occult obsessions initiated his and Sylvia's marriage and relationship to different levels, sometimes controversially so. His own influences and inspirations for his own successful writing career plunged different depths of the occult tempting and taunting fate and free will. His relationship to Plath was polarized, as their chemical wedding, the merging of their spirits, made every conflict both inner and outer justified within their "spiritual context." Their love was undeniable and their friends and colleagues had varying opinions about their relationship, but there is no denying that a synchronistic energy was present throughout their time together that does suggest something spiritual, karmic, and destined about their union.
Sylvia's death was respectfully covered in this book as was the aftermath and decades after her exit from this plane. Her impact in the world of literature/poetry lives on as does her impact on feminism and mental health. Ironically, her spiritual motivations to evolve and transcend have been forever encapsulated in her works she left behind- as their deeper meanings and symbolism offer insights on life, love, and spirit.
This book was full of detail, showcasing the author's extensive research and clear passion and interest in the famous poetess. As someone who read The Bell Jar and appreciates Plath's poetry, it was incredibly insightful to learn about her esoteric life and the alchemical artistry that provided the subtext for her writings. I thought the "characterization" of Sylvia Plath was balanced- this book did not read like a fan club essay, nor did it read like a critique of her life. The Occult Sylvia Plath lifted the veil of this mysterious woman, maybe to the chagrin of the high priestess, where silence and obscurity should reign supreme, but to properly do her legacy justice, a full and proper examination of her life is necessary.
Fans of her work will appreciate this new revelatory book that will ironically, help readers to discover something new about her, despite her own obsessions with self-discovery that was mired by psychical troubles, heartache, mystical misadventures, but also charged by passionate love, cosmic timings, and inner transformation.
Thank you to the publisher for providing me with a free arc via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.
I was surprised to learn that her work was inspired by and influenced by various occult subjects including astrology, the kabbalah, alchemy, and the tarot, to name a few. Her mercurial temperament coupled with her mystical "lifestyle" offered a different perspective on her writings. Magic became muse, words became spells, and poetry became codex. Her life became arcanely directed towards individuation and rebirth as the soul's work became the life's work... the embodiment of the artistic journey.
I found the chapters on her upbringing and her parents to be particularly interesting as their own interests in the occult imprinted Sylvia from a very early age. These chapters made it seem as though she was born into and lived in a secret order her entire life, one that she could not escape yet whose purpose was to transcend the visible and pragmatic. Sylvia drew mystics, artists, and troubled souls into her orbit throughout her life who were both hierophants and devils on her mystical journey.
Sylvia's husband Ted Hughes was a magician type character whose own occult obsessions initiated his and Sylvia's marriage and relationship to different levels, sometimes controversially so. His own influences and inspirations for his own successful writing career plunged different depths of the occult tempting and taunting fate and free will. His relationship to Plath was polarized, as their chemical wedding, the merging of their spirits, made every conflict both inner and outer justified within their "spiritual context." Their love was undeniable and their friends and colleagues had varying opinions about their relationship, but there is no denying that a synchronistic energy was present throughout their time together that does suggest something spiritual, karmic, and destined about their union.
Sylvia's death was respectfully covered in this book as was the aftermath and decades after her exit from this plane. Her impact in the world of literature/poetry lives on as does her impact on feminism and mental health. Ironically, her spiritual motivations to evolve and transcend have been forever encapsulated in her works she left behind- as their deeper meanings and symbolism offer insights on life, love, and spirit.
This book was full of detail, showcasing the author's extensive research and clear passion and interest in the famous poetess. As someone who read The Bell Jar and appreciates Plath's poetry, it was incredibly insightful to learn about her esoteric life and the alchemical artistry that provided the subtext for her writings. I thought the "characterization" of Sylvia Plath was balanced- this book did not read like a fan club essay, nor did it read like a critique of her life. The Occult Sylvia Plath lifted the veil of this mysterious woman, maybe to the chagrin of the high priestess, where silence and obscurity should reign supreme, but to properly do her legacy justice, a full and proper examination of her life is necessary.
Fans of her work will appreciate this new revelatory book that will ironically, help readers to discover something new about her, despite her own obsessions with self-discovery that was mired by psychical troubles, heartache, mystical misadventures, but also charged by passionate love, cosmic timings, and inner transformation.
Thank you to the publisher for providing me with a free arc via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.
September 25, 2024
The Occult Sylvia Plath by Julia Gordon-Bramer is one of the most intriguing books I’ve read in a while. As a tarot reader and lover of all things occult, I had no idea how much Sylvia Plath’s poetry was influenced by mysticism and esoteric traditions. The way Gordon-Bramer breaks down Plath’s use of alchemy, Qabalah, and tarot really made me see her poems in a completely different light. I especially loved learning about Plath’s relationship with Ted Hughes and their shared explorations into the supernatural—who knew they were into crystal-gazing and automatic writing? This book made me appreciate Plath not just as a poet but as a fellow seeker of the mysteries. If you’re into poetry and the occult, this is a hidden gem.
June 25, 2025
As a fan of Plath myself, reading this new perspective truly enlightenen many things for me. I believe that the writing in this book made it such a fast read, not being able to put it down even for a second. As a fan of the astrology, tarot, and many other topics discussed it was just interesting to see how things overlapped. Overall an amazing book on the life of a great poet, and many aspects of her life which I'm sure many of us aren't aware of.
September 22, 2024
This book is a poorly written rehashed biography that illuminates very little -if anything- about Plath and her relationship to the occult. It is full of tenuous connections, irrelevant conclusions, and poorly constructed arguments—if an idea/ opinion is even expanded. It was an extremely disappointing read on two of my favourite subjects.
March 17, 2026
I inhaled this book. Fascinating and illuminating. I feel like I’ve read every possible book on Plath and Hughes and yet found tidbits here that were new. A must read if interested in Plath and her work.
June 26, 2024
I cannot believe I get to be alive at the same time this book was published
September 28, 2024
How occult symbols affected the works of Sylvia Plath.
January 12, 2025
Having read Plath biographies before, there were too many NON occult details. But still worth reading for the good stuff!
Read
August 18, 2025very interesting and detailed, though there are some ideas that I'm not so taken with. regardless, I very much enjoyed
November 24, 2025
Ted what were you thinking?!
September 21, 2024
I didn't realise how deeply Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes were interested and inspired by the occult, I knew that Plath was interested in Tarot but that was about it. This book explains how this isn't accidental, the unawareness people have of their occult influences, it's a deliberate choice the writers made, because of a fear of being judged and dismissed for this interest. I like finding out about tarot and symbolism, and the purposes it can serve for different people. This book references a lot of other occult books and figures, so that was interesting to learn about. It also reveals how at one time, Ted Hughes wanted to make a living reading astrological birth charts alongside his poetry and Sylvia Plath was trying to be a tarot reader.
This made me think about how limited our impressions of famous writers and artists are, we only know a small part of who they are and what leads them to make the work that they make. And what we do know is carefully edited by the writer, or by others who have an interest in influencing the audiences perception of them. It makes you think about what gets left out in our story of who people are and why it is left out, and who is making that decision or influencing that decision.
This made me think about how limited our impressions of famous writers and artists are, we only know a small part of who they are and what leads them to make the work that they make. And what we do know is carefully edited by the writer, or by others who have an interest in influencing the audiences perception of them. It makes you think about what gets left out in our story of who people are and why it is left out, and who is making that decision or influencing that decision.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews