Sylvia Plath: Feminist Icon and Leftist Looneytune

This marks the 50th anniversary of American poet Sylvia Plath's death.

Feminist icon Sylvia Plath

She was wildly promiscuous as a college girl. She was criminally negligent as a mother. She was a mindless, knee-jerk left-winger, wrong on virtually every vital issue of her day. She was certifiably insane.

And she has become an icon of the feminist movement.

Naturally.

At the time she decided to swallow a bottle of sleeping pills and stick her head into a gas oven, leaving behind her 2 infant children in an adjoining room, Sylvia Plath was little more than a 2nd rate talent.

The New Yorker was rejecting her poems by the truckload. She had just approached two American publishers  with her self-admitted  "potboiler" the  pseudonymously penned novel, The Bell Jar.

They both said thanks, but no thanks.

She was known best only for being the wife of  English writer and future British national poet-laureate, Ted Hughes. He was a colleague of T.S. Eliot and W.H. Auden and was commanding big sums for his literary output.

Plath's husband, Ted Hughes

She was not.

So as it turned out, her decision to snuff it on the morning of February 11, 1963 was one of the best career moves she could have possibly made.

That's because in death, radical feminists would adopt her as an iconic role model and vigorously promote her as being some sort of artistic genius.

Then, her stuff finally began to sell.

Liberals need their martyrs and Sylvia Plath fit their requirements to a T.

First off, Sylvia Plath was an extreme left-winger.

She, seemed to get all her political ideas from the ultra-left wing  The Nation - a Madison Wisconsin-based rag whose pages entertained the journalistic excretions of the likes of communists Leon Trotsky, Noam Chomsky and Izzy Stone.

Most egregiously, Sylvia Plath developed a maniacal affinity for the Jewish-American communist spies and traitors, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. Plath proclaimed their innocence and railed at her fellow college girls for being able to calmly eat breakfast on the day of their executions.

Plath actually developed a psychosomatic sympathetic rash on her arms at the very hour the Rosenbergs were dispatched at the electric chair for handing the murderous Josef Stalin the secrets to America's H-bomb.

Plath's political bible

Plath had no moral qualms about people who supplied the mass murdering despot, Stalin, with weapons of mass destruction, but decried President John F. Kennedy for "threatening the Soviet Union."

She called her mother "stupid" for voting for General Eisenhower rather than the ridiculous Libertyville aristocrat, Adlai Stevenson, who she called "The Abe Lincoln of our age."

In the world of Sylvia Plath's fevered brain, Ike's election was, "the funeral day of all my hopes and ideas."

Over at Cambridge on a Fulbright scholarship, she immediately joined the Young Labour Party, which was then dominated by full-blown Stalinists of the extremist Trade Unions Council. She also signed on to the "Ban the Bomb" movement of pinhead lefty mathematician, Bertrand Russell (apparently not realizing that if her heroes, the Rosenbergs had not supplied Stalin with the H-bomb, an American nuclear monopoly would have obviated the whole problem.)

Secondly, Sylvia Plath became a vehement misandrist.

Stung by her husband's rejection of her in the last months of her life she spewed out a number of poetic ravings which vilified men:

"I hated men because they didn't stay around and love me like a father: I could prick holes in them and show they were no father material...Men, nasty lousy men."

So when the radical feminists began to flex the muscles on their hairy arms in the 1970s, who could be more perfect a figure to manufacture into an icon than Sylvia Plath?

An  ultra-Left Wing, Man-hating, artiste. And with a phony, contrived British accent to boot.

And so, buoyed by the feminist left, little by little Plath's writings gained posthumous acceptance, culminating in an unheard of posthumous award of the Pultizer Prize in 1982.

Today, her lightweight feminized version of J.D.Salinger's Catcher in the Rye, The Bell Jar, is read by thousands of school girls each year.

And almost every year some deranged feminazis descend on her cemetery in West Yorkshire, England and chisel her married name, "Hughes" off of her headstone. Her husband always dutifully replaces it.

The Plath estate has scheduled some heretofore unpublished material of hers for release this year, on the 50th anniversary of her self-immolation.

We will not be standing in line, waiting for copies.


Here is a 50s newsreel clip reporting the conviction of communist spies, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. Sylvia Plath claimed they were innocent and became maniac over the event. Soviet KGB files made public in the 90s proved that they were indeed guilty of betraying the United States:



(The facts on Plath's life referred to herein are from Sylvia Plath, A Biography, by Linda W. Wagner-Martin, 1987, Simon and Schuster. Wagner-Martin was professor of English at Michigan State University, specializing in modern literature and womens' literature.)