Half Evaluation

I'm currently reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, which at first was rather difficult for me because Plath was originally a poet and I can say the book started off as being so poetic and dramatic it was not like reading a novel at all. At the moment I've come to half of the book, I just realized how much I can relate to Esther Greenwood and most of her thoughts and the world around her. It's scary sometimes because it's like Sylvia Plath could read into my mind long before I was even born and put those thoughts on Esther. I'm not as depressed as her, though yes, I found several things in life to be sort of depressing. But like her, I enjoy writing and I like the fact that she got a chance to work at a woman's magazine, and the fact that she has someone like Buddy Willard in her life (This is where I'm so not Esther. Buddy is a med student and a handsome, charming, Yale guy. I would forgive him for the fact that he's not as pure as I am) and painfully, also the part where she felt like she's been inadequate in a long time, only she never realized it before. It's terrible that I feel the same way she does, but reading this makes me think that I'm not alone, and Esther is around my age so I mustn't be the only one feeling inadequate in this world. I like the conversation between Esther and Buddy about her being neurotic, and about that Eric guy who thinks that if he really loves a girl, he would keep her from all that dirty business we call sex. I don't really read books written by woman before because they're mostly romance and I don't really like reading romance, despite my deep love for romcom movies, but this one definitely worth the exception.

“I could never settle down in either the country or the city… what’s so neurotic about that?”

Buddy didn’t answer.

“Well?” I rapped out.

“Nothing,” Buddy said in a pale, still voice.

“Neurotic, ha!” I let out a scornful laugh. “If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I’m neurotic as hell. I’ll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days.”

Buddy put his hand on mine.

“Let me fly with you.”