Status Updates From Cometa rojo

No sé si voy a poder escribir una reseña coherente de este libro porque tengo millones de sentimientos encontrados

Viviendo en la indigencia y autodenominándose “Cathy y Heathcliff” …. Sylvia hasta yo veo las red flags

It was Ted, he remembered, who could fill a room with “the most unalterable silences…He had a grey, hulking, brooding quality. What this did to Sylvia I’m not sure.” Baskin wondered whether Ted was the right kind of husband for a sensitive woman who needed, he felt, continual reassurance.

Plath dedicated her poem, Sculptor, to Leonard Baskin.

Hooking up with a self important, self-involved, brutal lout like Ted Hughes may be the only way in which the extraordinarily gifted Sylvia Plath was ordinary — like a lot of girls, yesterday and today, she couldn’t see what a jerk he was, or how awful he was for her, and hooked up with him. Had she not acted as his publicist early on, at a cost to her own literary creativity, I doubt he'd have amounted to much.