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A Lover Of Unreason
The failure of the marriage between Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes has always been considered from one of two conflicting viewpoints: hers or his. Missing for more than four decades has been a third perspective on the events that brought their marriage to its ill-fated end, the story of another—the other—woman: Hughes' mistress Assia Wevill. Like Plath before her, Assia shared her life with Hughes for seven years, until she took her own life and that of their daughter at the age of forty-two, in a manner that nearly replicated Plath's suicide six years earlier. Drawing on previously unavailable documents and private papers, including Assia's diaries and her intimate correspondence with Hughes, this book shows the vital influence Assia exerted on the poet and his work, and the uneasy life they shared under the long shadow of Plath. A Lover of Unreason is the first-ever full-length biography of Assia Wevill. It casts a keen light, and explores the emergence of a singular twentieth-century woman. Three-times divorcée, career woman, mistress, and single mother, Assia Wevill openly defied the conventions of a censorious pre-feminist Britain and mesmerized men and women alike with her quick-mind and exotic beauty.
304 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
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October 31, 2019
You might say that Assia Gutmann was born into difficult circumstances – the year was 1927 – the place was Berlin, the mother was German and the father was Jewish. Not good timing! He was a doctor, his Latvian family were wealthy, they were living a high middle class life but Adolf soon put a stop to that. In 1933 they were in the first wave of emigrants, they got out as fast as they could and went first of all to Pisa and then to Palestine. O capricious fate - in Germany the father had been the target of extreme hostility and now, in Tel Aviv, the only Jewish city in the world at that time, it flipped round and it was the mother who became the target of hatred.
So by the time she was seven Assia had had to learn four languages, German, Russian, Italian and now Hebrew. But she was good at it.
In 1943 she was 16 and met a British soldier. In 1946 with Palestine descending into chaos her parents thought – hey, this could be our ticket out of this war zone. She applied to a London art school, got on a plane and never went back to Israel. She found her soldier again and married him. A year or so later, it was “Darling, pack a suitcase, we’re moving to Vancouver!” In 1952 she divorced No 1 and married No 2, a Canadian. Let’s just say that by this time she was drop dead gorgeous so without intending to, she became a maneater, she could just snap her fingers, next, next; she married three guys before she was 33 and only really loved one of them – all of them seem to have just goggled at her and drooled unpleasantly, she was the exotic Latvian-Russian-German-Jewish-Israeli elusive butterfly of love love love in their pawky English and Canadian lives – according to our authors
she had a big bosom, a flat bottom, thick ankles, radiating magnificence rather than sex appeal
- hmmm - but men dropped like flies and sometimes she didn’t even notice. So, she was a bit of a nightmare. For instance, in spring 1959, she was 32, married to husband No 2, back living in England, and involved in a heavy affair with the guy who became husband No 3. No 2 knew about No 3. No 3 finished his studies and got a great job at the University of Mandalay – a long way from England. He thought that would make her leave No 2. While she was dithering, two things happened. She found she was pregnant, didn’t know who the father was, and got an immediate abortion. Then, she heard her mother, who was living in Canada, had cancer. No 2 then borrowed money to fund her trip to see her mother. Our authors then comment :
To boast that she crossed the Atlantic on one of the majestic boats, Assia was willing to suffer great inconvenience, and travelled third class on the Queen Mary in a ghastly cramped cabin, though she would have obtained much better conditions for the same price on one of the less illustrious Canadian pacific ships.
Using her mother's illness to get to brag that she sailed on the Queen Mary? Nice! Back to the story : she married No 3 (David Wevill) in Rangoon, Burma (he was a lecturer). She still had a beef with No 2 (Assia’s possessiveness and vanity would not let her get over her husband’s quick recovery from their divorce) so, on her return to England:
One day she phoned and demanded to see Dick (No 2) at once; they met at the entrance to the South Kensington underground station and had a stormy row. “She suddenly pulled a long Burmese ceremonial dagger and tried to stab me. I grabbed her arm and we fell in the gutter. The bystanders – how typical of the English – walked by while we struggled, no one trying to separate us.” He wrenched the dagger off her and stormed off. “Be careful, I have a gun,” she screamed at his receding back.
Two years after marrying David Wevill, she was flat hunting, called up a phone number, the flat sounded okay, it turned out that it was two poets who were sub-letting, they were moving to the countryside. Their names were Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. Cue sinister chords - Fate had taken another hand.
So Ted gloomily glommed Assia and mentally wrote her down in his little black book. The Wevills got an invitation to spend a weekend chez poets in Devon.
On Saturday, after breakfast, Ted brought out air rifles, and he and David shot at blackbirds perching on the roof.
As you do, when you’re a nature poet.
Things developed. (Al Alvarez described Assia as a woman who “made a pass at every man so automatically it was hard to feel flattered.”) Assia became Ted’s London girlfriend, David tried suicide, then grew to accept the situation, Sylvia didn’t, they split up, she committed suicide, Ted and Assia moved into what our authors call the “death flat”, they slept in Sylvia’s bed, and prepared meals on the “death oven”! I mean, would you do that? I wouldn't. They both had opportunities to regret the wreckage they’d helped to cause. Assia wrote:
David, my sweet husband, my most always favourite, my best and truest love. What insanity, what methodically crazy compulsion drove me to sentence him to being alone, and myself to this nightmare maze of miserable , censorious, middle-aged furies, and Sylvia, my predecessor, between our heads at night.
In March 1965 she had Ted’s daughter. By now he was cooling off – did he really want to live with this woman? But he would never be decisive. She was living the old Supremes song of the time – get out of my life why don’t you? Cause you don’t really love me, you just keep me hangin’ on. Total despair began to set in during 1968. By then, Ted had sorted out his other girlfriends thus :
We were nicely spaced out : Assia was in London, Carol was in North Tawton, and I [Brenda Hedden] was in Welcombe, 40 miles away…Ted told me that after Sylvia he no longer wanted to be dependent on one woman. He kept us in the pecking order…Assia was the chief hen, I was number two, and then there was Carol, and maybe others.
(Not so different from what I hear about the lives of certain modern men, really.)
Assia wrote a suicide note to her father :
The prospect before me is so bleak, that to have lived my full life-span would have entailed more misery than I could possibly endure. It is the life alone. Insecure, dependent on an au pair to look after my little Shuratchka properly – dependent on the sort of people for whom I work – a very bad 3rd rate agency who would fire me in case of illness. No husband. No father for Shura. … Life was very exciting at the beginning – but this living death was too much to pay for it…. Please don’t think that I’m insane…it was simple accountancy. I couldn’t leave little Shura by herself. She’s too old to be adopted.
GOTHIC AFTERMATH
When Ted’s mother was told of Assia’s suicide and the killing of her daughter, she lapsed into a coma and died in three days. Assia’s father died a couple of months later.
Ted recovered.
STATS
Police records show that in 1969 nearly two thousand women killed themselves in the UK. The average age was 42 which was exactly Assia’s age.
Highly recommended for all Plathophiles - this is the missing part of the story, very well told. One of those odd books you pick up on the spur of the moment that turn out to be really memorable.
So by the time she was seven Assia had had to learn four languages, German, Russian, Italian and now Hebrew. But she was good at it.
In 1943 she was 16 and met a British soldier. In 1946 with Palestine descending into chaos her parents thought – hey, this could be our ticket out of this war zone. She applied to a London art school, got on a plane and never went back to Israel. She found her soldier again and married him. A year or so later, it was “Darling, pack a suitcase, we’re moving to Vancouver!” In 1952 she divorced No 1 and married No 2, a Canadian. Let’s just say that by this time she was drop dead gorgeous so without intending to, she became a maneater, she could just snap her fingers, next, next; she married three guys before she was 33 and only really loved one of them – all of them seem to have just goggled at her and drooled unpleasantly, she was the exotic Latvian-Russian-German-Jewish-Israeli elusive butterfly of love love love in their pawky English and Canadian lives – according to our authors
she had a big bosom, a flat bottom, thick ankles, radiating magnificence rather than sex appeal
- hmmm - but men dropped like flies and sometimes she didn’t even notice. So, she was a bit of a nightmare. For instance, in spring 1959, she was 32, married to husband No 2, back living in England, and involved in a heavy affair with the guy who became husband No 3. No 2 knew about No 3. No 3 finished his studies and got a great job at the University of Mandalay – a long way from England. He thought that would make her leave No 2. While she was dithering, two things happened. She found she was pregnant, didn’t know who the father was, and got an immediate abortion. Then, she heard her mother, who was living in Canada, had cancer. No 2 then borrowed money to fund her trip to see her mother. Our authors then comment :
To boast that she crossed the Atlantic on one of the majestic boats, Assia was willing to suffer great inconvenience, and travelled third class on the Queen Mary in a ghastly cramped cabin, though she would have obtained much better conditions for the same price on one of the less illustrious Canadian pacific ships.
Using her mother's illness to get to brag that she sailed on the Queen Mary? Nice! Back to the story : she married No 3 (David Wevill) in Rangoon, Burma (he was a lecturer). She still had a beef with No 2 (Assia’s possessiveness and vanity would not let her get over her husband’s quick recovery from their divorce) so, on her return to England:
One day she phoned and demanded to see Dick (No 2) at once; they met at the entrance to the South Kensington underground station and had a stormy row. “She suddenly pulled a long Burmese ceremonial dagger and tried to stab me. I grabbed her arm and we fell in the gutter. The bystanders – how typical of the English – walked by while we struggled, no one trying to separate us.” He wrenched the dagger off her and stormed off. “Be careful, I have a gun,” she screamed at his receding back.
Two years after marrying David Wevill, she was flat hunting, called up a phone number, the flat sounded okay, it turned out that it was two poets who were sub-letting, they were moving to the countryside. Their names were Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. Cue sinister chords - Fate had taken another hand.
So Ted gloomily glommed Assia and mentally wrote her down in his little black book. The Wevills got an invitation to spend a weekend chez poets in Devon.
On Saturday, after breakfast, Ted brought out air rifles, and he and David shot at blackbirds perching on the roof.
As you do, when you’re a nature poet.
Things developed. (Al Alvarez described Assia as a woman who “made a pass at every man so automatically it was hard to feel flattered.”) Assia became Ted’s London girlfriend, David tried suicide, then grew to accept the situation, Sylvia didn’t, they split up, she committed suicide, Ted and Assia moved into what our authors call the “death flat”, they slept in Sylvia’s bed, and prepared meals on the “death oven”! I mean, would you do that? I wouldn't. They both had opportunities to regret the wreckage they’d helped to cause. Assia wrote:
David, my sweet husband, my most always favourite, my best and truest love. What insanity, what methodically crazy compulsion drove me to sentence him to being alone, and myself to this nightmare maze of miserable , censorious, middle-aged furies, and Sylvia, my predecessor, between our heads at night.
In March 1965 she had Ted’s daughter. By now he was cooling off – did he really want to live with this woman? But he would never be decisive. She was living the old Supremes song of the time – get out of my life why don’t you? Cause you don’t really love me, you just keep me hangin’ on. Total despair began to set in during 1968. By then, Ted had sorted out his other girlfriends thus :
We were nicely spaced out : Assia was in London, Carol was in North Tawton, and I [Brenda Hedden] was in Welcombe, 40 miles away…Ted told me that after Sylvia he no longer wanted to be dependent on one woman. He kept us in the pecking order…Assia was the chief hen, I was number two, and then there was Carol, and maybe others.
(Not so different from what I hear about the lives of certain modern men, really.)
Assia wrote a suicide note to her father :
The prospect before me is so bleak, that to have lived my full life-span would have entailed more misery than I could possibly endure. It is the life alone. Insecure, dependent on an au pair to look after my little Shuratchka properly – dependent on the sort of people for whom I work – a very bad 3rd rate agency who would fire me in case of illness. No husband. No father for Shura. … Life was very exciting at the beginning – but this living death was too much to pay for it…. Please don’t think that I’m insane…it was simple accountancy. I couldn’t leave little Shura by herself. She’s too old to be adopted.
GOTHIC AFTERMATH
When Ted’s mother was told of Assia’s suicide and the killing of her daughter, she lapsed into a coma and died in three days. Assia’s father died a couple of months later.
Ted recovered.
STATS
Police records show that in 1969 nearly two thousand women killed themselves in the UK. The average age was 42 which was exactly Assia’s age.
Highly recommended for all Plathophiles - this is the missing part of the story, very well told. One of those odd books you pick up on the spur of the moment that turn out to be really memorable.
June 7, 2014
Blue is the violet
Red is the rose
Ted Hughes is a sh*tbag
And his poetry blows
Red is the rose
Ted Hughes is a sh*tbag
And his poetry blows
February 5, 2012
Well, where to begin? I was searching through the library bio/autobiography section A-Z as I always do looking for something to add to my knowledge of already loved subjects or to gain a new obsession. I stumbled across this book and due to my love of Sylvia Plath, I immediately gravitated to it. I knew that Hughes cheated on Sylvia Plath, I was not surprised there was a mistress but like most people I knew nothing of Assia Wevill. Thanks to Ted Hughes. What a monster that man was.
Like so many of Plath's devotees, I spent my younger years blaming him totally for her death. I realize now that it gives him much more power and worth than he deserves to have to do that. Sylvia was a complicated and wounded person even before she met Hughes. Like so many women who deal with depression and anxiety I find that Sylvia speaks in my voice, (albeit talented and cohesive), shares my pains and best of all uses her talent to try to wrest something beautiful from these things. She was a far better poet than her lousy husband and also a better person.
Assia Wevill and her daughter with Hughes, Shura died by Assia's hand in the same manner as Sylvia Plath did. This happened after painful years of being treated like dirt by Hughes (he literally gave her a "list" of do's and don't's if she wanted to live with him--they read like a typical 1950's man's ideas of a woman's duties). And yet he was always going after women who were so much more than he was--women with great love and talent and depth. He actually mocked Assia for the very reasons he seemed to prefer her company to his wife's==after Sylvia's death he was sure to point out to Assia how the things about her that were different than Sylvia counted against her when those very things had disgusted him about Sylvia when she was alive--the fact that she was a good mother, a grand housekeeper and a truly good wife despite her own anguish and her greater art.
Probably the worst part is his attempt to erase Assia and his own child Shura by many disgusting means. This has led to the loss of many of Assia's writings (as well as Sylvia's) and also to some of Assia's artwork--he even went against her wishes in terms of how to deal with her remains. He shamed himself by acting as if his own daughter was "her" daughter--he actually referred to her that way in some of his poems. He was such an awful father to her that her own mother believed she would be better off dead than left to his lack of care. That truly breaks my heart.
Assia did not start out as a servant of Ted Hughes. She was full of beauty and creativity and light--she is not always sympathetic--she treated her own husbands badly but she paid for everything she did. Oh how she paid. I truly believe it was Hughes' great selfishness, his boorishness and his browbeating that caused this vibrant woman to feel there was no other way out. Unlike Sylvia she had no shining career to turn to, she was in bad straits financially and I think she wanted so to make something permanent and beautiful out of the mess that she and Ted created by having an affair when they did that by the end of her life, she saw a life with him as the only option to make it right.
I take issue with the title -I do not think Hughes loved Assia--you could not treat someone the way he did her and care for them. I think he enjoyed subjugating talented and creative women--he had to force his creativity out like Cheez-Whiz, he had to force his behavior as a parent the same way. I think he hated women for their effortlessness in these areas. He did not care who he exposed his kids to. After Sylvia's death he literally turned their kids over to Assia, a woman Sylvia despised --thank goodness she treated them well. There is even a passage where his daughter says he should marry 2 women (neither of them Assia) while Assia believes she's the only one (his next wife and a lover he was seeing while seeing Assia and exposing his kids to all 3--talk about confusion)because she thinks she and Nicholas need one mother each. I think that speaks a lot to how he treated his kids. It's like they knew that they could not count on him.
I like to think that somewhere in a lovely afterworld, Sylvia and Assia are sitting together chatting with Shura playing nearby and they hate Ted Hughes instead of each other. I am extremely glad that the authors saved Assia and Shura from obscurity and did their best to illuminate who they were. Assia was fascinating in her own right and deserves to be recognized. I like to think she might have done some wonderful things had she been freed of this yoke of guilt and pain. It obviously did not stop Hughes not only from living but from profiting from his much more famous wife's death. My disgust for him knows no bounds.
As to the reviews I read that stated that the book was badly written or badly researched--it's just not true--read the preface and the indexes--these people did their work--which is not easy considering the lengths that Hughes went to to hide Assia and Shura. They interviewed the people who knew Assia best as well as many who knew Ted well and Ted himself who gave them the only interview in which he discussed Assia. So there is no hearsay here--the words of Assia herself in letters, the words of her sister, her friends and even some of Hughes friends. It is a balanced portrayal--he was just a bad person. No amount of research will change that. It speaks for itself.
But the final word should go to Assia and Shura--I believe Assia wanted to live for Shura's sake but she took her with her in an attempt to protect her from the cruelty of the world and her own father. I honestly think if she had gotten some distance and support she would have made it. She was not a fragile bloom, or unaware of herself. She would have been something. She was something.
Like so many of Plath's devotees, I spent my younger years blaming him totally for her death. I realize now that it gives him much more power and worth than he deserves to have to do that. Sylvia was a complicated and wounded person even before she met Hughes. Like so many women who deal with depression and anxiety I find that Sylvia speaks in my voice, (albeit talented and cohesive), shares my pains and best of all uses her talent to try to wrest something beautiful from these things. She was a far better poet than her lousy husband and also a better person.
Assia Wevill and her daughter with Hughes, Shura died by Assia's hand in the same manner as Sylvia Plath did. This happened after painful years of being treated like dirt by Hughes (he literally gave her a "list" of do's and don't's if she wanted to live with him--they read like a typical 1950's man's ideas of a woman's duties). And yet he was always going after women who were so much more than he was--women with great love and talent and depth. He actually mocked Assia for the very reasons he seemed to prefer her company to his wife's==after Sylvia's death he was sure to point out to Assia how the things about her that were different than Sylvia counted against her when those very things had disgusted him about Sylvia when she was alive--the fact that she was a good mother, a grand housekeeper and a truly good wife despite her own anguish and her greater art.
Probably the worst part is his attempt to erase Assia and his own child Shura by many disgusting means. This has led to the loss of many of Assia's writings (as well as Sylvia's) and also to some of Assia's artwork--he even went against her wishes in terms of how to deal with her remains. He shamed himself by acting as if his own daughter was "her" daughter--he actually referred to her that way in some of his poems. He was such an awful father to her that her own mother believed she would be better off dead than left to his lack of care. That truly breaks my heart.
Assia did not start out as a servant of Ted Hughes. She was full of beauty and creativity and light--she is not always sympathetic--she treated her own husbands badly but she paid for everything she did. Oh how she paid. I truly believe it was Hughes' great selfishness, his boorishness and his browbeating that caused this vibrant woman to feel there was no other way out. Unlike Sylvia she had no shining career to turn to, she was in bad straits financially and I think she wanted so to make something permanent and beautiful out of the mess that she and Ted created by having an affair when they did that by the end of her life, she saw a life with him as the only option to make it right.
I take issue with the title -I do not think Hughes loved Assia--you could not treat someone the way he did her and care for them. I think he enjoyed subjugating talented and creative women--he had to force his creativity out like Cheez-Whiz, he had to force his behavior as a parent the same way. I think he hated women for their effortlessness in these areas. He did not care who he exposed his kids to. After Sylvia's death he literally turned their kids over to Assia, a woman Sylvia despised --thank goodness she treated them well. There is even a passage where his daughter says he should marry 2 women (neither of them Assia) while Assia believes she's the only one (his next wife and a lover he was seeing while seeing Assia and exposing his kids to all 3--talk about confusion)because she thinks she and Nicholas need one mother each. I think that speaks a lot to how he treated his kids. It's like they knew that they could not count on him.
I like to think that somewhere in a lovely afterworld, Sylvia and Assia are sitting together chatting with Shura playing nearby and they hate Ted Hughes instead of each other. I am extremely glad that the authors saved Assia and Shura from obscurity and did their best to illuminate who they were. Assia was fascinating in her own right and deserves to be recognized. I like to think she might have done some wonderful things had she been freed of this yoke of guilt and pain. It obviously did not stop Hughes not only from living but from profiting from his much more famous wife's death. My disgust for him knows no bounds.
As to the reviews I read that stated that the book was badly written or badly researched--it's just not true--read the preface and the indexes--these people did their work--which is not easy considering the lengths that Hughes went to to hide Assia and Shura. They interviewed the people who knew Assia best as well as many who knew Ted well and Ted himself who gave them the only interview in which he discussed Assia. So there is no hearsay here--the words of Assia herself in letters, the words of her sister, her friends and even some of Hughes friends. It is a balanced portrayal--he was just a bad person. No amount of research will change that. It speaks for itself.
But the final word should go to Assia and Shura--I believe Assia wanted to live for Shura's sake but she took her with her in an attempt to protect her from the cruelty of the world and her own father. I honestly think if she had gotten some distance and support she would have made it. She was not a fragile bloom, or unaware of herself. She would have been something. She was something.
June 25, 2011
The story is familiar now. It began as fairy tale, the marriage of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath. They were both young, beautiful, and gifted as poets. Their lives and their art were laid out before them like a road leading to a future colored as brightly as storybook. But it all turned dark. Plath had a history of mental instability and attempted suicide. She was apparently hard to live with, creating pressures within the marriage. In the fall of 1962 they became friends with the poet David Wevill and his wife Assia. Hughes and Assia began an affair. Plath separated from Hughes, and in February 1963 she committed suicide by flooding the kitchen with gas fumes. Hughes and Assia continued in a relationship for 6 years. They tried living together, but his family looked on Assia unfavorably. Even having a child together, the lovely daughter named Shura, didn't help to cement their bond. They continued to struggle with the relationship. Koren and Negev report Hughes began seeing other women, neglecting Assia and Shura. Aware of all this and sensing an eventual complete rejection by Hughes, the man she felt she couldn't live without, in March 1969 Assia committed suicide by using gas as Plath did, taking Shura with her.
Hughes once told a mistress that women who grew close to him always died. Certainly 2 of them did. And that's the sadness at the core of this book. You know what's going to happen. Even as Koren and Negev explain how it all came about you realize these people, especially Assia and Sylvia, are in the grip of some terrible force they can't escape or control. The result is inevitable tragedy.
Lover of Unreason is Assia's biography, as interesting as the one so far of Hughes and the several of Plath. She's equally fascinating. She was exotically and uncommonly beautiful, it seems. Not only was she a rival to Plath, but to every other woman. Spell-binding yet testy. Both her beauty and her behavior must have been disturbing. Her erratic, edgy manner of conducting herself before she met Hughes hints at a woman whose fragility and personal indirection would leave her unable to cope with the darkest disappointments.
Ted Hughes was the big disappointment of her life. He seemed god-like. Physically big and beautiful, with an enormous talent and emormous presence, he was a mountain of a man. To many he seemed larger than life. To some he may have been overwhelming. But the book is Assia's story. If Plath was hard to live with, so was Hughes, according to Koren and Negev. Their portrait of the man is unflattering. They emphasize his relationships with other women, his parental neglect of Shura, his general neglect of Assia while becoming more critical of her and demanding of her in order to satisfy his family. There are many truths. These players and the sad story they inhabit are faceted like gemstones. You can approach them from any face of the story, every one different. Much more will be written about Hughes, little more, I suspect about Assia Wevill. I would've said this biography of her is definitive--it seems that complete and good. But the view of Hughes and his bludgeoning of their relationship is so negative that I wonder if another look may some day be written. More truths lie ahead. Maybe some Hughes-Wevill letters will surface. In the meantime, this fascinating account of the other woman is what we have.
Hughes once told a mistress that women who grew close to him always died. Certainly 2 of them did. And that's the sadness at the core of this book. You know what's going to happen. Even as Koren and Negev explain how it all came about you realize these people, especially Assia and Sylvia, are in the grip of some terrible force they can't escape or control. The result is inevitable tragedy.
Lover of Unreason is Assia's biography, as interesting as the one so far of Hughes and the several of Plath. She's equally fascinating. She was exotically and uncommonly beautiful, it seems. Not only was she a rival to Plath, but to every other woman. Spell-binding yet testy. Both her beauty and her behavior must have been disturbing. Her erratic, edgy manner of conducting herself before she met Hughes hints at a woman whose fragility and personal indirection would leave her unable to cope with the darkest disappointments.
Ted Hughes was the big disappointment of her life. He seemed god-like. Physically big and beautiful, with an enormous talent and emormous presence, he was a mountain of a man. To many he seemed larger than life. To some he may have been overwhelming. But the book is Assia's story. If Plath was hard to live with, so was Hughes, according to Koren and Negev. Their portrait of the man is unflattering. They emphasize his relationships with other women, his parental neglect of Shura, his general neglect of Assia while becoming more critical of her and demanding of her in order to satisfy his family. There are many truths. These players and the sad story they inhabit are faceted like gemstones. You can approach them from any face of the story, every one different. Much more will be written about Hughes, little more, I suspect about Assia Wevill. I would've said this biography of her is definitive--it seems that complete and good. But the view of Hughes and his bludgeoning of their relationship is so negative that I wonder if another look may some day be written. More truths lie ahead. Maybe some Hughes-Wevill letters will surface. In the meantime, this fascinating account of the other woman is what we have.
July 1, 2012
Why do some men consistently choose unstable, needy women? Do they need to feel superior? Or is it that they themselves drive women to this condition?
You aren't going to find the answers reading this book. It skirts pretty clear of any psychological theorizing. It does, however, paint Ted Hughes back into the corner from which he was emerging before he died. He does not come off well here.
It is one of those fascinating stories that suck us in despite our attempts to stifle the tabloid side of our own psyches. Would that it were better written.
You aren't going to find the answers reading this book. It skirts pretty clear of any psychological theorizing. It does, however, paint Ted Hughes back into the corner from which he was emerging before he died. He does not come off well here.
It is one of those fascinating stories that suck us in despite our attempts to stifle the tabloid side of our own psyches. Would that it were better written.
August 12, 2012
Assia Wevill is the dark lady of the Plath/Hughes agon. As Yehuda Koren and Eilat Negev put it in "Lover of Unreason," "Assia was reduced to the role of a she-devil and an enchantress, the woman alleged to have severed the union of twentieth-century poetry's most celebrated couple."
When Sylvia Plath and Assia first met, they liked each other. Assia, a part-Jewish refugee from Hitler's Germany, bore, in Plath's words, her "passport on her face." She had lived the suffering that Sylvia had imagined in poems like "Daddy." Plath was happy that Assia and her husband David, a fine poet, would occupy the flat she and Ted were relinquishing to pursue their passion for poetry and for each other in the Devon countryside.
Then the Wevills were invited to Devon, and the world went terribly wrong. Later Ted Hughes would accuse Assia of being the "dark destructive force that destroyed Sylvia." Several biographers say Assia boasted to friends she was putting on her war paint to seduce Ted Hughes. She was on her third marriage and had a reputation as a femme fatale.
But what exactly happened in Devon is hard to say. Even Olwyn Hughes, a staunch defender of her brother, could tell Anne Stevenson (commissioned by the Hughes Estate to write "Bitter Fame: A Life of Sylvia Plath" [1989]), no more than what Assia told Olywn: There had been a "sexual current" between Assia and Ted that enraged Sylvia. In "Rough Magic: A Biography of Sylvia Plath" (1991), Paul Alexander reports: "Strong-will and determined, Assia — apparently — made the first move with Ted." Diane Middlebrook in "Her Husband: Hughes and Plath — A Marriage" (2003) follows a similar line, suggesting Assia had Ted "under a spell."
And yet Elaine Feinstein's "Ted Hughes: The Life of a Poet" (2001) presents evidence that confirms the story in "Lover of Unreason": Ted Hughes was "a sexual stalker by nature" and no longer enraptured with Sylvia, who had become a housewife and mother — a "hag," as he called her in one of their arguments after the Wevill visit to Devon. According to Ms. Feinstein, Hughes eventually tired of Assia too because, in the words of William Congreve's "Way of the World," she had begun to "dwindle into a wife."
Whatever the alluring Assia did or did not do during that fateful rendezvous in Devon, she became the vessel of Ted Hughes's desire to shuck off his domestic duties and seek some haven where he could recapture his poetic spirit. Assia did not make it easy for Hughes, since she still cared a great deal for David Wevill and continued to live with him off and on. Meanwhile, Hughes attempted to square himself with his disapproving parents and settle on some kind of domestic routine with the two young children Plath had been careful not to gas when she took her life on February 11, 1963.
But if Assia was slow to forsake David — as David has made clear to several biographers — she could not have been simply the she-devil enchantress of legend. Perhaps the most telling part of "Lover of Unreason" concerns Hughes's search for a home that he and Assia could share. A man who had never previously had trouble making up his mind about where to live, Hughes repeatedly found fault with the houses he and Assia inspected. Indeed, he led her on, for during this house-hunting period he had several other women on the side — it was Hughes's practice to create the conditions that provoked women to leave him.
No biographer would be willing to state that Ted Hughes was a very bad man, for to do so is to invite the biography to be read as an indictment. Ms. Feinstein feels the need to mitigate Hughes's appalling behavior — destroying some of Plath's work, essentially erasing the record of Assia's important role in his life, and in so many ways attempting to control the telling not only of his biography but those of Plath and Wevill. To Ms. Feinstein, Hughes had a "granite endurance" to go on writing after so many tragedies. Of his cover-ups, she suggests he took the "harsh road of a survivor." Yehuda Kore and Eilat Negev are careful not to condemn him, but they eschew such rationalizations.
The worst of it is that on March 23, 1969, Assia Wevill took not only her life but also that of her 4-year-old daughter by Hughes. As her biographers show, such acts are not uncommon among single mothers in their 40s who are so disturbed at the horrible nature of the world that they cannot imagine a better one for their offspring. Except for a few periods and poems of self-blame, Hughes never could confront his culpable role in the lives of Plath and Wevill; instead, he issued his apologia in the form of a poetry collection, "Birthday Letters" (1998). So it is fortunate indeed to have "Lover of Unreason," an impressively researched and well-told biography that will occasion, I believe, yet another rewriting of the Plath/ Hughes agon.
When Sylvia Plath and Assia first met, they liked each other. Assia, a part-Jewish refugee from Hitler's Germany, bore, in Plath's words, her "passport on her face." She had lived the suffering that Sylvia had imagined in poems like "Daddy." Plath was happy that Assia and her husband David, a fine poet, would occupy the flat she and Ted were relinquishing to pursue their passion for poetry and for each other in the Devon countryside.
Then the Wevills were invited to Devon, and the world went terribly wrong. Later Ted Hughes would accuse Assia of being the "dark destructive force that destroyed Sylvia." Several biographers say Assia boasted to friends she was putting on her war paint to seduce Ted Hughes. She was on her third marriage and had a reputation as a femme fatale.
But what exactly happened in Devon is hard to say. Even Olwyn Hughes, a staunch defender of her brother, could tell Anne Stevenson (commissioned by the Hughes Estate to write "Bitter Fame: A Life of Sylvia Plath" [1989]), no more than what Assia told Olywn: There had been a "sexual current" between Assia and Ted that enraged Sylvia. In "Rough Magic: A Biography of Sylvia Plath" (1991), Paul Alexander reports: "Strong-will and determined, Assia — apparently — made the first move with Ted." Diane Middlebrook in "Her Husband: Hughes and Plath — A Marriage" (2003) follows a similar line, suggesting Assia had Ted "under a spell."
And yet Elaine Feinstein's "Ted Hughes: The Life of a Poet" (2001) presents evidence that confirms the story in "Lover of Unreason": Ted Hughes was "a sexual stalker by nature" and no longer enraptured with Sylvia, who had become a housewife and mother — a "hag," as he called her in one of their arguments after the Wevill visit to Devon. According to Ms. Feinstein, Hughes eventually tired of Assia too because, in the words of William Congreve's "Way of the World," she had begun to "dwindle into a wife."
Whatever the alluring Assia did or did not do during that fateful rendezvous in Devon, she became the vessel of Ted Hughes's desire to shuck off his domestic duties and seek some haven where he could recapture his poetic spirit. Assia did not make it easy for Hughes, since she still cared a great deal for David Wevill and continued to live with him off and on. Meanwhile, Hughes attempted to square himself with his disapproving parents and settle on some kind of domestic routine with the two young children Plath had been careful not to gas when she took her life on February 11, 1963.
But if Assia was slow to forsake David — as David has made clear to several biographers — she could not have been simply the she-devil enchantress of legend. Perhaps the most telling part of "Lover of Unreason" concerns Hughes's search for a home that he and Assia could share. A man who had never previously had trouble making up his mind about where to live, Hughes repeatedly found fault with the houses he and Assia inspected. Indeed, he led her on, for during this house-hunting period he had several other women on the side — it was Hughes's practice to create the conditions that provoked women to leave him.
No biographer would be willing to state that Ted Hughes was a very bad man, for to do so is to invite the biography to be read as an indictment. Ms. Feinstein feels the need to mitigate Hughes's appalling behavior — destroying some of Plath's work, essentially erasing the record of Assia's important role in his life, and in so many ways attempting to control the telling not only of his biography but those of Plath and Wevill. To Ms. Feinstein, Hughes had a "granite endurance" to go on writing after so many tragedies. Of his cover-ups, she suggests he took the "harsh road of a survivor." Yehuda Kore and Eilat Negev are careful not to condemn him, but they eschew such rationalizations.
The worst of it is that on March 23, 1969, Assia Wevill took not only her life but also that of her 4-year-old daughter by Hughes. As her biographers show, such acts are not uncommon among single mothers in their 40s who are so disturbed at the horrible nature of the world that they cannot imagine a better one for their offspring. Except for a few periods and poems of self-blame, Hughes never could confront his culpable role in the lives of Plath and Wevill; instead, he issued his apologia in the form of a poetry collection, "Birthday Letters" (1998). So it is fortunate indeed to have "Lover of Unreason," an impressively researched and well-told biography that will occasion, I believe, yet another rewriting of the Plath/ Hughes agon.
September 7, 2010
I must say, by the end of reading this I think my nostrils were flared, and my brow was in twist as I glared at the words on the page. All this, of course, was directed at Ted Hughes.
The way in which the authors portrayed him led me to believe that here was a man with severe narcissistic Personality Disorder, and the way that he walked such a tightrope between adoration and repulsion toward Assia, a complete inability to commit and some kind of sick dependancy really made me skin prick.
In addition to this, the shameless ways in which he seems to not only play the martyr, but also use both Assia and Plath for his own financial and creative ventures (and the way in which he pathologised them with finality) really bothered me.
On the up side, it was interesting to read a bio that induced such a strong reaction. Whilst I acknowledge that this may illustrate the authors lack of objectivity, it was interesting to read something that illicited such rage in me!
The way in which the authors portrayed him led me to believe that here was a man with severe narcissistic Personality Disorder, and the way that he walked such a tightrope between adoration and repulsion toward Assia, a complete inability to commit and some kind of sick dependancy really made me skin prick.
In addition to this, the shameless ways in which he seems to not only play the martyr, but also use both Assia and Plath for his own financial and creative ventures (and the way in which he pathologised them with finality) really bothered me.
On the up side, it was interesting to read a bio that induced such a strong reaction. Whilst I acknowledge that this may illustrate the authors lack of objectivity, it was interesting to read something that illicited such rage in me!
January 3, 2009
I must admit I've always held a bit of contempt for Assia Wevill, being an avid Plath fan - but I thought I should give her a fair chance and read this biography. It was terrible. Extremely subjective, certainly not an objective account with well researched and accurate information - as a biography should be.
Ted Hughes was not given an accurate representation in the least. The authors repeat over and over that Assia had a very dramatic personality and often exaggerated and embellished stories, but then they use her journal entries, written in the midst of serious depression, as an accurate source, from which they described Hughes' "horrible" mistreatment and even abuse of Assia. They also cite a poetry book in which the feminist Robin Morgan writes that Hughes murdered both Plath and Wevill, and that Assia took Shura with her "'rather than letting Hughes raise the child.'" I see absolutely no reason for this to be included in the book, other than making Hughes look like the bad guy.
Not to mention, the chapter titles sound like cheesy love songs from the 80s ("Torn Between Two Lovers," "Fatal Attraction".) And check out this opening sentence from Chapter Nine, entitled "A Fateful Meeting": "London in the swinging sixties: the pill, the Beatles, acid trips, the sense that the times were changing and 'anything goes'--but none of it was blowing Assia's mind." REALLY?
I dragged myself along, and finally reached the point in the story describing Assia's suicide--when I thought the story would finally end, and I would reach the nice thick bibliography that should appear at the end--and block off a nice chunk of the book that I didn't have to read. But no, they go on and on about suicide, filicide, throwing out all kinds of irrelevant statistics ("A study in the American Journal of Epidemiology revealed that people were less prone to suicide if they had known someone who had killed himself." HUH?) and various other kinds of crap.
One part I was interested in, though, were the pictures. I hadn't seen many pictures of Assia and the inserts certainly had plenty. Although... at then end, there is a picture of one of the authors with Ted Hughes. Right before the paragraph where they inaccurately describe how he wanted to completely rid his life of any reminders of Assia--and then they quote the feminist. Wierd?
This book was obviously written for a bourgeois audience who love to read about romance, sex, and suicide - I guess I can see why the authors were interested in writing a biography about a person like Assia. I honestly felt sick at the end. Don't read this book - really, for the sake of your health, and for the sake of Ted Hughes - an extremely skilled poet and genuine, but private, man who deserves the be portrayed accurately.
Ted Hughes was not given an accurate representation in the least. The authors repeat over and over that Assia had a very dramatic personality and often exaggerated and embellished stories, but then they use her journal entries, written in the midst of serious depression, as an accurate source, from which they described Hughes' "horrible" mistreatment and even abuse of Assia. They also cite a poetry book in which the feminist Robin Morgan writes that Hughes murdered both Plath and Wevill, and that Assia took Shura with her "'rather than letting Hughes raise the child.'" I see absolutely no reason for this to be included in the book, other than making Hughes look like the bad guy.
Not to mention, the chapter titles sound like cheesy love songs from the 80s ("Torn Between Two Lovers," "Fatal Attraction".) And check out this opening sentence from Chapter Nine, entitled "A Fateful Meeting": "London in the swinging sixties: the pill, the Beatles, acid trips, the sense that the times were changing and 'anything goes'--but none of it was blowing Assia's mind." REALLY?
I dragged myself along, and finally reached the point in the story describing Assia's suicide--when I thought the story would finally end, and I would reach the nice thick bibliography that should appear at the end--and block off a nice chunk of the book that I didn't have to read. But no, they go on and on about suicide, filicide, throwing out all kinds of irrelevant statistics ("A study in the American Journal of Epidemiology revealed that people were less prone to suicide if they had known someone who had killed himself." HUH?) and various other kinds of crap.
One part I was interested in, though, were the pictures. I hadn't seen many pictures of Assia and the inserts certainly had plenty. Although... at then end, there is a picture of one of the authors with Ted Hughes. Right before the paragraph where they inaccurately describe how he wanted to completely rid his life of any reminders of Assia--and then they quote the feminist. Wierd?
This book was obviously written for a bourgeois audience who love to read about romance, sex, and suicide - I guess I can see why the authors were interested in writing a biography about a person like Assia. I honestly felt sick at the end. Don't read this book - really, for the sake of your health, and for the sake of Ted Hughes - an extremely skilled poet and genuine, but private, man who deserves the be portrayed accurately.
January 5, 2019
After finishing the recently published second volume of Sylvia Plath's letters, and the anguish she suffered over this affair between Wevill and her husband, I felt a lopsided sympathy for Plath, but I think if she could have weathered this trouble she would have come out on top as the better poet (than Hughes) and she wouldn't have left her two children traumatized for life. Hughes does not come across well in anything written about him anymore; not now when women are speaking up against his kind. Arrogant, wanting things his own way, and some woman to make it happen, yet cheating on them and always wanting to be the wandering wolf, on to the next sheep. Assia, while only daubling in art, in poetry, in the domestic skills, seems far more complex and interesting than one would believe, and you grieve over her own losses and sorrows. Plath is bitterly cruel to her, constantly referring to herself as the fertile uber woman while Wevill and her multiple losses which Plath wrongly views as all abortions where some were miscarriages. And she did bear one child, a girl named Shura who apparently was an intelligent, pretty little creature with a father who never acknowledged her, never touched her, and went out of his way for decades to hide the fact that she and her mother had ever existed in his life. You want to pull Plath and Wevill's heads out of the ovens they chose and let them live to scream the truth about Hughes and his kind. At least, small comfort, their voices are being heard now, despite how much Hughes destroyed letters and journals. Let him lie in his woods. Ashes scattered. He didn't give either woman the burial they deserved or wanted.
February 18, 2025
Μια πλούσια (και μοναδική; ) βιογραφία της Άσσια Ουέβιλ, που ρίχνει φως στα γεγονότα του γνωστότερου ερωτικού τριγώνου που έμεινε στη λογοτεχνική ιστορία. Μάλι��τα, για πρώτη φορά, το φως πέφτει στην Άσσια και όχι στο ζευγάρι Σύλβια – Τέντ.
Η Άσσια έμεινε στην ιστορία ως η γνωστή – άγνωστη, ‘άλλη’ που δεν είχε τις λογοτεχνικές χάρες της Πλαθ (γιατί να έπρεπε να τις είχε άλλωστε; ). Γίνεται λόγος για τη μαγευτική της σαγήνη, πόσο μοιραία υπήρξε και μνημονεύονται οι πολλοί της γάμοι – κάτι που τη χαρακτηρίζει ως άστατη (αλλά υποθέτω πως εάν ήταν άνδρας δεν θα άνοιγε ρουθούνι για τρεις γάμους). Έμεινε στην ιστορία ως χειριστική, ξελογιάστρα και ως μούσα του Χιούζ.
Ο δεύτερος γάμος του Χιουζ τελικά έγινε με την Κάρολ, μια νοσοκόμα από το χαρέμι που ο Χιούζ είχε δημιουργήσει τα επόμενα χρόνια μετά την αυτοκτονία της Πλαθ – βέβαια, το χαρέμι του το είχε ιδρύσει ενώ η Άσσια ήταν ακόμα ζωντανή, φτωχή, μόνη και ντροπιασμένη, μεγαλώνοντας την κόρη του, ένα παιδί με πολλά επώνυμα και μπερδεμένη αίσθηση ταυτότητας.
Η βιογραφία είναι χωρισμένη χρονικά, με πολλές μαρτυρίες που παρά τον αντιφατικό χαρακτήρα τής Άσσιας μένουν προβλέψιμες. Ωστόσο, πέφτει φως στα χαρίσματα της: την αγάπη της για τη ζωγραφική και το διάβασμα, την ποίησή της, τις τέσσερις γλώσσες που ήξερε, το ταλέντο της στο μάρκετινγκ, τη γενναιοδωρία της και το καλό της μάτι να εντοπίζει έργα τέχνης.
Στα ξένα, σύγχρονα μάτια, το πορτραίτο της Άσσιας και της Σύλβιας είναι διαφορετικό, αλλά ο θάνατός τους παρόμοιος. Εκτός απ’ ότι η Άσσια μιμήθηκε τον τρόπο της Πλαθ, οι λόγοι είναι το ζητούμενο: και οι δύο έφυγαν με σπασμένες καρδιές από τον Χιουζ – κάτι που σαν ιδέα ρομαντικοποιήθηκε και η φεμινιστική σχολή αντέδρασε με κάθε (δικαιολογημένο) μίσος προς τον (ατάλαντο μπροστά στη Σύλβια και άχαρο μπροστά στην Άσσια), Χιούζ. Βέβαια, ο πραγματικός δολοφόνος δεν είναι ούτε οι ίδιες (η Σύλβια ήταν από μικρή στον δρόμο της αυτοκτονίας – η Άσσια λιγότερο), ούτε ο Τέντυ, αλλά τα δεδομένα της εποχής. Εάν μπορούμε να κατηγορήσουμε τον Τεντ για κάτι, είναι πως ως άνδρας της εποχής ήξερε πολύ καλά τα δεδομένα και τα εκμεταλλευόταν στο έπακρο.
Η εποχή είχε ξεκάθαρους κανόνες και ακόμα νιώθουμε στη σπονδυλική μας στήλη της δονήσεις της: η αξία σου ορίζεται από την ανδρική αποδοχή, το ανδρικό ενδιαφέρον, την ανδρική ματιά και φυσικά, το σημαντικότερο όλων: τον γάμο.
Ο Χιούζ άφησε τη Σύλβια με δυο παιδιά, την Άσσια με ένα, το οποίο το αναγνώρισε κατά τη ληξιαρχική πράξη, αλλά κανείς δεν ήξερε πως η Σούρα ήταν κόρη του.
Η Άσσια έμεινε στην ιστορία ως η γνωστή – άγνωστη, ‘άλλη’ που δεν είχε τις λογοτεχνικές χάρες της Πλαθ (γιατί να έπρεπε να τις είχε άλλωστε; ). Γίνεται λόγος για τη μαγευτική της σαγήνη, πόσο μοιραία υπήρξε και μνημονεύονται οι πολλοί της γάμοι – κάτι που τη χαρακτηρίζει ως άστατη (αλλά υποθέτω πως εάν ήταν άνδρας δεν θα άνοιγε ρουθούνι για τρεις γάμους). Έμεινε στην ιστορία ως χειριστική, ξελογιάστρα και ως μούσα του Χιούζ.
Ο δεύτερος γάμος του Χιουζ τελικά έγινε με την Κάρολ, μια νοσοκόμα από το χαρέμι που ο Χιούζ είχε δημιουργήσει τα επόμενα χρόνια μετά την αυτοκτονία της Πλαθ – βέβαια, το χαρέμι του το είχε ιδρύσει ενώ η Άσσια ήταν ακόμα ζωντανή, φτωχή, μόνη και ντροπιασμένη, μεγαλώνοντας την κόρη του, ένα παιδί με πολλά επώνυμα και μπερδεμένη αίσθηση ταυτότητας.
Η βιογραφία είναι χωρισμένη χρονικά, με πολλές μαρτυρίες που παρά τον αντιφατικό χαρακτήρα τής Άσσιας μένουν προβλέψιμες. Ωστόσο, πέφτει φως στα χαρίσματα της: την αγάπη της για τη ζωγραφική και το διάβασμα, την ποίησή της, τις τέσσερις γλώσσες που ήξερε, το ταλέντο της στο μάρκετινγκ, τη γενναιοδωρία της και το καλό της μάτι να εντοπίζει έργα τέχνης.
Στα ξένα, σύγχρονα μάτια, το πορτραίτο της Άσσιας και της Σύλβιας είναι διαφορετικό, αλλά ο θάνατός τους παρόμοιος. Εκτός απ’ ότι η Άσσια μιμήθηκε τον τρόπο της Πλαθ, οι λόγοι είναι το ζητούμενο: και οι δύο έφυγαν με σπασμένες καρδιές από τον Χιουζ – κάτι που σαν ιδέα ρομαντικοποιήθηκε και η φεμινιστική σχολή αντέδρασε με κάθε (δικαιολογημένο) μίσος προς τον (ατάλαντο μπροστά στη Σύλβια και άχαρο μπροστά στην Άσσια), Χιούζ. Βέβαια, ο πραγματικός δολοφόνος δεν είναι ούτε οι ίδιες (η Σύλβια ήταν από μικρή στον δρόμο της αυτοκτονίας – η Άσσια λιγότερο), ούτε ο Τέντυ, αλλά τα δεδομένα της εποχής. Εάν μπορούμε να κατηγορήσουμε τον Τεντ για κάτι, είναι πως ως άνδρας της εποχής ήξερε πολύ καλά τα δεδομένα και τα εκμεταλλευόταν στο έπακρο.
Η εποχή είχε ξεκάθαρους κανόνες και ακόμα νιώθουμε στη σπονδυλική μας στήλη της δονήσεις της: η αξία σου ορίζεται από την ανδρική αποδοχή, το ανδρικό ενδιαφέρον, την ανδρική ματιά και φυσικά, το σημαντικότερο όλων: τον γάμο.
Ο Χιούζ άφησε τη Σύλβια με δυο παιδιά, την Άσσια με ένα, το οποίο το αναγνώρισε κατά τη ληξιαρχική πράξη, αλλά κανείς δεν ήξερε πως η Σούρα ήταν κόρη του.
August 10, 2008
This is a useful book for filling in gaps of knowledge regarding Assia Wevill and her relationship with Ted Hughes. However, throughout the book, the authors Yehuda Koren and Eilat Negev seem to make a lot of assumptions about what AW and TH might be feeling, such as this statement:
"With two suicides on his back, Hughes felt as though he was cursed. There was something in him, which was fatal for every woman who got involved with him." (p. 215)
The language used lurches towards being too emotive at times, with not even a cursory nod towards impartiality, detachment or neutrality, exemplified for me by calling Sylvia Plath's flat in London "the death flat" (p. 132). The number of errors in spelling, grammar and expression also made me wonder if an editor actually bothered to read it before sending it to press.
To call this a biography of Assia Wevill masks its real raison d'etre: Ted Hughes. I suppose the sub-subtitle of the book, 'Ted Hughes' Doomed Love', should have given this away.
This book might be of scholarly use as pointers to source material -- the letters, interview notes, correspondence and so on.
As a font of literary gossip, it is, of course, sufficiently titillating for one to go to the trouble and borrow it from one's library.
"With two suicides on his back, Hughes felt as though he was cursed. There was something in him, which was fatal for every woman who got involved with him." (p. 215)
The language used lurches towards being too emotive at times, with not even a cursory nod towards impartiality, detachment or neutrality, exemplified for me by calling Sylvia Plath's flat in London "the death flat" (p. 132). The number of errors in spelling, grammar and expression also made me wonder if an editor actually bothered to read it before sending it to press.
To call this a biography of Assia Wevill masks its real raison d'etre: Ted Hughes. I suppose the sub-subtitle of the book, 'Ted Hughes' Doomed Love', should have given this away.
This book might be of scholarly use as pointers to source material -- the letters, interview notes, correspondence and so on.
As a font of literary gossip, it is, of course, sufficiently titillating for one to go to the trouble and borrow it from one's library.
December 26, 2023
«'The times were against Assia, as against Sylvia,' Fay Weldon analyses the situation. 'Both talented women died of love, not depression, let alone suicidal tendencies. In those pre-Feminist days, women saw their lives in terms of being loved or not loved by a man. It was terrible to be abandoned, death was better than rejection.'»
May 15, 2013
I think this is a great biography! It was assigned reading for my English class, though I happened to finish it after the class ended (guilty). I've been reading it for quite awhile because I've been busy with other things. Usually when that happens I lose interest in the book I'm reading, but that didn't happen with "Lover of Unreason."
For starters, I was already interested in the subject of the book because we had been talking about the doomed marriage of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath in my English class. That's where Assia Wevill fits into the picture. She was the mistress of Ted, who infamously caused Sylvia's last depression, which ultimately led to her suicide in 1963. Assia is an interesting figure because she's the mystery woman who broke up one of literature's most influential couples. Although she's cast as the culprit in Ted and Sylvia's drama, there are many more details that were overlooked until the writing of this biography, the first to focus on Assia.
I found Assia's cultural/ethnic background fascinating. She was born as a Jew in Germany, but her family fled to Jerusalem during the holocaust. She was fluent in many languages, including Hebrew and German, and eventually she became a translater of poetry and plays because she was so gifted.
I had a fun time reading about how everyone gravitated toward her because of her exotic beauty. Every man turned their head when she walked by, and every woman was awestricken at her striking, confident presence. I pictured a classic, hollywood beauty when reading about her.
However, once she became aware of her great looks she began dating many men, often dangling them by a string while she bounced back and forth between them, spending more time with whoever satisfied her fickle desires. It made me mad to read at times because she treated the men who cared for her the most like dummies who she could easily push around, knowing they'd always come back.
Her personality was like that throughout most of the book, but it all flipped when she became involved with Ted Hugues. She was then the dependent one in the relationship, constantly pining for Ted's attention and time. Ted tended to be overbearing and withdrawn toward the end of their relationship, causing Assia great dispair.
The book really shed a lot of light on Ted Hughes. I found it very hard to sympathize with him. He refused to acknowledge that he had a child with Assia (Shura), so the poor daughter of theirs went without a father during the entire four years of her life. He was, arguably, a good parent to Frieda and Nicholas (his children with Sylvia), but the fact that he denied his relation to Shura made me lose a lot of respect for him. It made me wonder what special quality this man possessed to make a woman like Assia (who could've had any man she wanted) love him as she did. And Sylvia, who is considered one the best and most influential poets of the 20th century, committed suicide due to his infidelity.
Assia ends up committing suicide in the same manor as Sylvia, poisoning herself with carbon monoxide from the gas oven. But that's not even the saddest part. She gased her four year old daughter Shura as well, fearing that if she did not, Ted wouldn't take care of the child.
It's all a very tragic story, and the amount of drama makes it really hard to believe that it happened in real life. The author, Koren, really gives great background details and mentions events like the Holocaust and John & Yoko's stay-in-bed protest to put things into context. Overall, it's a quick read (even though it took me while), and there are some great pictures included to couple the events that occur. I recommend it for anyone who enjoys the poetry of Sylvia Plath or Ted Hughes, or anyone else who is interested in the history of literary figures.
For starters, I was already interested in the subject of the book because we had been talking about the doomed marriage of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath in my English class. That's where Assia Wevill fits into the picture. She was the mistress of Ted, who infamously caused Sylvia's last depression, which ultimately led to her suicide in 1963. Assia is an interesting figure because she's the mystery woman who broke up one of literature's most influential couples. Although she's cast as the culprit in Ted and Sylvia's drama, there are many more details that were overlooked until the writing of this biography, the first to focus on Assia.
I found Assia's cultural/ethnic background fascinating. She was born as a Jew in Germany, but her family fled to Jerusalem during the holocaust. She was fluent in many languages, including Hebrew and German, and eventually she became a translater of poetry and plays because she was so gifted.
I had a fun time reading about how everyone gravitated toward her because of her exotic beauty. Every man turned their head when she walked by, and every woman was awestricken at her striking, confident presence. I pictured a classic, hollywood beauty when reading about her.
However, once she became aware of her great looks she began dating many men, often dangling them by a string while she bounced back and forth between them, spending more time with whoever satisfied her fickle desires. It made me mad to read at times because she treated the men who cared for her the most like dummies who she could easily push around, knowing they'd always come back.
Her personality was like that throughout most of the book, but it all flipped when she became involved with Ted Hugues. She was then the dependent one in the relationship, constantly pining for Ted's attention and time. Ted tended to be overbearing and withdrawn toward the end of their relationship, causing Assia great dispair.
The book really shed a lot of light on Ted Hughes. I found it very hard to sympathize with him. He refused to acknowledge that he had a child with Assia (Shura), so the poor daughter of theirs went without a father during the entire four years of her life. He was, arguably, a good parent to Frieda and Nicholas (his children with Sylvia), but the fact that he denied his relation to Shura made me lose a lot of respect for him. It made me wonder what special quality this man possessed to make a woman like Assia (who could've had any man she wanted) love him as she did. And Sylvia, who is considered one the best and most influential poets of the 20th century, committed suicide due to his infidelity.
Assia ends up committing suicide in the same manor as Sylvia, poisoning herself with carbon monoxide from the gas oven. But that's not even the saddest part. She gased her four year old daughter Shura as well, fearing that if she did not, Ted wouldn't take care of the child.
It's all a very tragic story, and the amount of drama makes it really hard to believe that it happened in real life. The author, Koren, really gives great background details and mentions events like the Holocaust and John & Yoko's stay-in-bed protest to put things into context. Overall, it's a quick read (even though it took me while), and there are some great pictures included to couple the events that occur. I recommend it for anyone who enjoys the poetry of Sylvia Plath or Ted Hughes, or anyone else who is interested in the history of literary figures.
July 23, 2013
We've read so much about the Plath-Hughes marriage and Assia Wevill is portrayed here as the third and more obscure point of the eternal triangle that ended in so much death and heartbreak. Not only does Wevill commit suicide like Plath, but she takes her daughter with her, and if you count the tragic suicide of Nicholas Hughes many years later, the saga of the destruction planted in the constellation that the Hughes-Plath union created is depressing yet addictive reading.
It's all sad, and confusing in the end. Better minds than mine range from blaming Hughes' infidelity to blaming Plath's neurotic personality. I'd prefer not to blame anyone, but bless my stars that I never got caught in such a web of addictive destruction.
It's all sad, and confusing in the end. Better minds than mine range from blaming Hughes' infidelity to blaming Plath's neurotic personality. I'd prefer not to blame anyone, but bless my stars that I never got caught in such a web of addictive destruction.
July 20, 2018
A very well-written and sympathetic account of a woman who comes across at first as particularly unsympathetic. At first I despised Assia for the part she played in Sylvia Plath's downward spiral, but in the end, I came to feel for her when she received the same sort of treatment that she had casually dished out during her serial marriages and adulteries. Even worse, after Assia's death, she and her young daughter by Ted Hughes were expunged from Ted's life story.
No one is a "good guy" in this book, but Ted Hughes comes off especially awful.
Most accounts of this well-known sad story stop with Plath's suicide or her dizzying, posthumous fame. As Paul Harvey used to say: "Now you know the rest of the story."
No one is a "good guy" in this book, but Ted Hughes comes off especially awful.
Most accounts of this well-known sad story stop with Plath's suicide or her dizzying, posthumous fame. As Paul Harvey used to say: "Now you know the rest of the story."
December 20, 2023
I've not read many biographies so I'm not really sure what the standard is but this was a very engrossing read. And the sigh that escaped me when I arrived at The End....ohhh I feel so sad. Keen to read the more recent materials about her......more of her writings, letters, etc./less of that malignant monster of a man whose name I won't even type out, please and thanks.
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May 21, 2018With the lurid subtitle 'Assia Wevill, Sylvia Plath's rival and Ted Hughes' doomed love', you might find yourself wanting to give this biography a wide berth. After all, how much do we really need to know about the private lives of public figures? Nevertheless, there are few details of the relationship between Plath and Hughes that have not been dissected in numberless books and articles. What I think this book seeks to do is to provide a counter-balance to the popular view of Assia Wevill as a home-wrecker, whose suicide (so eerily similar to Plath's) represented a lapse of taste. It is easy to be horrified that Assia chose to end not only her own life, but also that of her young daughter by Hughes. However, as a single mother, and in the light of Hughes' apparent disinterest in his illegitimate child, it is possible to understand how Assia couldn't bear to leave behind her daughter for the fates to deal with.
Assia Wevill nee Gutmann seems to have understood herself very well: 'I was endowed with too many minor qualities, but with neither the will or the huge intelligence to bring them a life of their own'. A highly intelligent woman, she nevertheless seems to have envied Plath's talent and always felt the ghost of Plath around her, though she refused to take any blame for her suicide.
Astonishingly beautiful, Assia was a rootless person. Her father was a Russian Jew, her mother German Lutheran. The family left Germany due to the growing Nazi threat and settled in Tel Aviv, but Assia never felt at home there, and once she'd left - aged 19 - she never returned. She married three times. As Fay Weldon, a friend and colleague of Assia's, points out, 'In those pre-feminist days, women saw their lives in terms of being loved or not loved by a man'. Although her relationship with Hughes hobbled on after Plath's suicide, it was a troubled relationship. Plath's ghost was never far away, and Hughes' parents disliked her.
The Assia who emerges from this biography is a vulnerable woman with the potential to achieve so much more than she actually did. Fans of Hughes might not relish the authors' view of him as faithless and predatory, and this is not by any means a great book, but it does at least go some way to balancing the scales. Plath and Hughes must have been difficult people to have a relationship with. Assia was complicated and self-absorbed, and never quite found her niche in life. In many ways she was perhaps too much like Plath for the relationship with Hughes to have worked out. I think it is only right, given the eternal muck-raking that has gone on into the lives of two exceptionally talented people, that Assia's voice, too, is finally heard.
Assia Wevill nee Gutmann seems to have understood herself very well: 'I was endowed with too many minor qualities, but with neither the will or the huge intelligence to bring them a life of their own'. A highly intelligent woman, she nevertheless seems to have envied Plath's talent and always felt the ghost of Plath around her, though she refused to take any blame for her suicide.
Astonishingly beautiful, Assia was a rootless person. Her father was a Russian Jew, her mother German Lutheran. The family left Germany due to the growing Nazi threat and settled in Tel Aviv, but Assia never felt at home there, and once she'd left - aged 19 - she never returned. She married three times. As Fay Weldon, a friend and colleague of Assia's, points out, 'In those pre-feminist days, women saw their lives in terms of being loved or not loved by a man'. Although her relationship with Hughes hobbled on after Plath's suicide, it was a troubled relationship. Plath's ghost was never far away, and Hughes' parents disliked her.
The Assia who emerges from this biography is a vulnerable woman with the potential to achieve so much more than she actually did. Fans of Hughes might not relish the authors' view of him as faithless and predatory, and this is not by any means a great book, but it does at least go some way to balancing the scales. Plath and Hughes must have been difficult people to have a relationship with. Assia was complicated and self-absorbed, and never quite found her niche in life. In many ways she was perhaps too much like Plath for the relationship with Hughes to have worked out. I think it is only right, given the eternal muck-raking that has gone on into the lives of two exceptionally talented people, that Assia's voice, too, is finally heard.
October 29, 2022
The accepted story about Sylvia Plath's suicide is that she gassed herself in distress over her husband's affair with Assia Wevill. And about 6 years later, Assia killed herself and her young daughter by Ted Hughes in the same manner. And so the temptation has always been there to consider Assia as simply "the other woman", rather than as a person in her own right. This biography aims to correct that oversimplification, and paints a picture of a haunted soul, wandering from country to country (Germany-Palestine-Canada-England-Burma-England) and man to man (3 divorces and the ill-fated affair with Ted Hughes). Also someone who, despite her beauty and talents, could never compete with the specter of Sylvia Plath, or the larger-than-life Ted Hughes.
That being said, I think this is a story of 3 talented but flawed people who somehow managed to do each other and themselves a lot of damage. This is a tangle of tormented relationships where people write each other passionate love letters and poems when apart, but then fight over everything when actually together.
I think I've had my fill of all 3 as people, and I don't think I want to read another word about their triangle. On the other hand, the book did encourage me to see out some of Ted Hughes' poems, and perhaps that is an indicator of success.
That being said, I think this is a story of 3 talented but flawed people who somehow managed to do each other and themselves a lot of damage. This is a tangle of tormented relationships where people write each other passionate love letters and poems when apart, but then fight over everything when actually together.
I think I've had my fill of all 3 as people, and I don't think I want to read another word about their triangle. On the other hand, the book did encourage me to see out some of Ted Hughes' poems, and perhaps that is an indicator of success.
September 29, 2015
Although there were a few continuity issues, due to the subject matter, I felt compelled to issue a five star rating.
While at times distressing, I found Assia's story very compelling.
I don't believe anyone who reads this will come to any other conclusions regarding Hughes: that he was a cold, calculating, misogynist a**, who drove two women to suicide.
The fact that Hughes could blame Plath & Wevill for their deaths, yet never admit to his own demons, was rather telling. That he could simply erase Assia & Shura from his life was very distressing. I was not surprised that he permanently destroyed items written by both women to further his own career & legacy. He will still remain forever tarnished in my mind.
While at times distressing, I found Assia's story very compelling.
I don't believe anyone who reads this will come to any other conclusions regarding Hughes: that he was a cold, calculating, misogynist a**, who drove two women to suicide.
The fact that Hughes could blame Plath & Wevill for their deaths, yet never admit to his own demons, was rather telling. That he could simply erase Assia & Shura from his life was very distressing. I was not surprised that he permanently destroyed items written by both women to further his own career & legacy. He will still remain forever tarnished in my mind.
September 15, 2009
This is a crazy true story that is too extreme to even imagine what these two woman had to endure for the compulsive love of Ted Hughes. It drove them to insanity, their fate was tragic and totally avoidable. It's a darn shame.
August 10, 2015
I didn't really learn anything about Assia Wevill from this book. I am not sure if Koren needs to do more research or write differently, but this treatment was superficial and flat.
March 7, 2019
I just read The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, and wanted to read about the "other woman," in this case, Assia Wevell. As other reviewers have said, it reads like a Greek tragedy. Ted Hughes apparently attracted not just one, but two,(and most likely several other) beautiful, brilliant, needy, and troubled women who couldn't find in him the anchor they so desperately wanted. Plath took her life when she found herself alone, and realized her husband was in love with Assia Wevell. But eventually Assia took her life as well,(and the life of her child with Hughes) in a similar way as Plath. It makes me wonder if in today's world there would be support, resources, and acceptance for women like these, or would they still bind themselves so desperately to a man they hoped would fulfill them?
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May 16, 2021Ted = mad, bad, and dangerous to know
Utter chaos.
Utter chaos.
July 11, 2011
Having made my way through most (if not all) the biographies written about Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes for a thesis I completed in 2007, I was surprised that Negev states the Hughes tried to keep the identity of his lover a secret for so long - even Janet Malcolm didn't mention her! She wrote the one book that makes a point of showing the reader that we will never know what really happened to these people.
The bits and pieces I did know about Assia Wevill before reading the book didn't come close to the detail given here, which is why it made for such fascinating reading. Assia was really exposed to a lot before entering England, but was lucky in the sense that she didn't have to suffer at the hands of the Nazi's because of her Judaism (I still find it crazy that even non-practising Jews were persecuted). Her talent for learning different languages was nurtured because of all this trauma of moving around - and her parents only added to this. Though I feel her parents also opened up the door for the crazy adult life she had: Would she have been as promiscuous if Lonya had been more strict with her? And why, why, why did her mother make her marry someone that she didn't really love? Another question that popped into my mind was, why did Hughes fall for her if he knew how many times she'd been married before he met her? OK, so she was a beautiful woman, but didn't Hughes find beauty in Plath as well? What about his other lovers (the ones following Assia's suicide) ... Carol Orchard (whom he married), Brenda Hedden, Emma Tennant, Jill Barber ... Negev's account of all the love triangles, the deceit, etc. leaves one looking at these people and wondering what is "normal".
It is important to note who's account you're reading. As I've already mentioned, one will never know what really happened. The reason for this is that every biographer writes about the aspects of the 'facts' s/he finds most interesting. Elaine Feinstein (Hughes' biographer) evokes a kind of sympathy for Hughes that you won't find in Ronald Hayman's account (which I find quite questionable), not to mention Anne Stevenson's perspective, which was hugely influenced by Olwyn Hughes. Negev ended up leaning on the poetry a lot - though she doesn't mention it outright. She quotes Hughes right at the end, where he states: "I feel that my poems are obscure, I give the secret away without giving it. People are so dumb they do not know I've given the secret away" (p. 226). But did he give the secret away? His memory of the events (e.g. Assia's dream about a pike, p. 88) are also not as accurate as one might think and using people's gossip in a biography is also not making use of facts. Malcolm's comment that She (Plath) is the divided self par excellence. The taut surrealism of the late poems and the slack, girls’-book realism of her life (as rendered by Plath’s biographers and by her own autobiographical writings) are grotesquelly incongruous (Malcolm 1995: 16) - and the same can be said of Assia, of Ted Hughes, of any of the players in this real-life drama. So, tragic as the tale is, one can only guess about the truth of the details.
The bits and pieces I did know about Assia Wevill before reading the book didn't come close to the detail given here, which is why it made for such fascinating reading. Assia was really exposed to a lot before entering England, but was lucky in the sense that she didn't have to suffer at the hands of the Nazi's because of her Judaism (I still find it crazy that even non-practising Jews were persecuted). Her talent for learning different languages was nurtured because of all this trauma of moving around - and her parents only added to this. Though I feel her parents also opened up the door for the crazy adult life she had: Would she have been as promiscuous if Lonya had been more strict with her? And why, why, why did her mother make her marry someone that she didn't really love? Another question that popped into my mind was, why did Hughes fall for her if he knew how many times she'd been married before he met her? OK, so she was a beautiful woman, but didn't Hughes find beauty in Plath as well? What about his other lovers (the ones following Assia's suicide) ... Carol Orchard (whom he married), Brenda Hedden, Emma Tennant, Jill Barber ... Negev's account of all the love triangles, the deceit, etc. leaves one looking at these people and wondering what is "normal".
It is important to note who's account you're reading. As I've already mentioned, one will never know what really happened. The reason for this is that every biographer writes about the aspects of the 'facts' s/he finds most interesting. Elaine Feinstein (Hughes' biographer) evokes a kind of sympathy for Hughes that you won't find in Ronald Hayman's account (which I find quite questionable), not to mention Anne Stevenson's perspective, which was hugely influenced by Olwyn Hughes. Negev ended up leaning on the poetry a lot - though she doesn't mention it outright. She quotes Hughes right at the end, where he states: "I feel that my poems are obscure, I give the secret away without giving it. People are so dumb they do not know I've given the secret away" (p. 226). But did he give the secret away? His memory of the events (e.g. Assia's dream about a pike, p. 88) are also not as accurate as one might think and using people's gossip in a biography is also not making use of facts. Malcolm's comment that She (Plath) is the divided self par excellence. The taut surrealism of the late poems and the slack, girls’-book realism of her life (as rendered by Plath’s biographers and by her own autobiographical writings) are grotesquelly incongruous (Malcolm 1995: 16) - and the same can be said of Assia, of Ted Hughes, of any of the players in this real-life drama. So, tragic as the tale is, one can only guess about the truth of the details.
February 15, 2022
Una investigación brutal. Una historia terrible. La pieza que faltaba en la historia del cuarteto maldito. Sin palabras.
March 9, 2008
A little personal background for why I wanted to read this book and found it so interesting: I visited England in the late 80s and took poetry and short fiction courses there. At the time, a biography of Plath had recently come out and there was much debate about the poet, whom the British have claimed as their own. Interestingly enough, the general feeling among these folks was decidedly anti-Hughes, even though he was their poet laureate at the time.
As a result of my time there, I read a lot of Plath, came to love her confessional style and her made-for-Hollywood story and developed the same hatred for Hughes and the cheating ways that lead Sivvy to stick her head in an oven.
I forgave Hughes a bit some years later, after The Birthday Letters came out. Unlike the masculine, brute force of the poems of his that I had been familiar with (Pike and similar), these (all written on around Plath's birthdays after her death) had a softer, almost confessional style to them. And whose heart could not go out reading The Dogs are Eating Your Mother?
So this book is the story of Assia Wevill, the woman that Hughes would leave Plath for, who would have a child by him herself, and who would also take her own life.
Was it the women Hughes gravitated toward — beautiful, talented, but ultimately insecure — or was it Hughes himself, with his never-ending philandering behavior and his hot and cold temperment that made for this tragedy?
This book is biography, and not prepared to answer a question like that, but I give it four stars for being another piece of the puzzle that we will probably never solve.
As a result of my time there, I read a lot of Plath, came to love her confessional style and her made-for-Hollywood story and developed the same hatred for Hughes and the cheating ways that lead Sivvy to stick her head in an oven.
I forgave Hughes a bit some years later, after The Birthday Letters came out. Unlike the masculine, brute force of the poems of his that I had been familiar with (Pike and similar), these (all written on around Plath's birthdays after her death) had a softer, almost confessional style to them. And whose heart could not go out reading The Dogs are Eating Your Mother?
So this book is the story of Assia Wevill, the woman that Hughes would leave Plath for, who would have a child by him herself, and who would also take her own life.
Was it the women Hughes gravitated toward — beautiful, talented, but ultimately insecure — or was it Hughes himself, with his never-ending philandering behavior and his hot and cold temperment that made for this tragedy?
This book is biography, and not prepared to answer a question like that, but I give it four stars for being another piece of the puzzle that we will probably never solve.
October 13, 2011
An incredible book. Assia Wevill - the forgotton woman in the Sylvia Plath tragedy. For many years, Ted Hughes sought to keep her existence and significance a secret, but after his death in 1998 and the release of many of his letters/personal items, the true nature of Ted and Assia's relationship became public. This is the first biography written about Assia. Constantly relocating, not able to identify with either her German or Jewish roots, Assia was always lost. After three failed marriages, Assia meets Ted Hughes, the brooding and charistmatic poet, and husband of Sylvia Plath. After Plath's suicide, Assia slept in her bed, cooked in her kitchen, and read her diaries. She referred to Plath's old home as 'the death flat'. Hughes would later claim that Assia became obsessed with Plath, that her eventual suicide and murder of their child, Shura, was an attempt to 'outdo' Sylvia. Privately, Ted wrote that he thought Assia's suicide, unlike Plath's, was avoidable, and ultimately, his fault. A truly fascinating, and tragic, story...
September 10, 2020
If you didn't think Ted Hughes was a shitbag before you read this book, you sure as hell will after. Assia's story has been largely erased, by both Hughes' machinations and the looming ghost of Sylvia. She was every bit as much of a rollercoaster of a person as Sylvia, and to a modern reader, it seems pretty likely that she suffered from borderline personality disorder and/or bipolar disorder.
It's a shame that everything she ever created has been lost or destroyed -- thanks Ted. I loved this biographer for talking the time to tell her story because Hughes went out of his way to make sure that she was obliterated.
However, I am deducting a star because on multiple occasions in this book, the biographer went out their way to mentions Assia's big calves and cankles.
It's a shame that everything she ever created has been lost or destroyed -- thanks Ted. I loved this biographer for talking the time to tell her story because Hughes went out of his way to make sure that she was obliterated.
However, I am deducting a star because on multiple occasions in this book, the biographer went out their way to mentions Assia's big calves and cankles.
September 9, 2010
It's about time that Assia Wevill is treated like more than a footnote in the ongoing biographic dialogue about the lives and marriage of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. Koren's book is respectful, never sensationalistic, and always fascinating and illuminating. It earns a place among serious books of literary biography and is must reading for those who want to fill in the blanks of their knowledge of mid-20th century poetry.
January 26, 2008
A biography of a fascinating woman, Assia Wevill, Ted Hughes' lover when he was still with Sylvia Plath and after... Born to a German mother and Russian Jewish father, Wevill grew up in Germany, Palestine, Canada, England. A beautiful, artistic and free-thinking individual, she was treated badly by Hughes, and unfortunately, also ended her life and her daughter's (theirs).
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