Dear reader,
As I admitted in this week’s episode, I probably wouldn't have read Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar if we weren’t doing this show. To be completely candid, it’s the kind of book I had thoughtlessly dismissed as a book for anxious young women. But one of the joys of doing this show – or of belonging to any kind of book club – is that you get to read things that you might otherwise have ignored.
And the more I read, the more it strikes me that it’s silly to caricature books in this way. It’s true, of course, that publishers aim their books at different markets. When Faber picked their cover design for The Bell Jar, they surely had a particular kind of reader in mind – and it wasn’t the same reader that Penguin’s cover designers were thinking of when they chose the cover for last week’s book, Goldfinger.
But just because a book isn’t necessarily aimed at you doesn’t mean that you won’t enjoy it, and I enjoyed The Bell Jar a lot more than I had expected. Yes, it can sometimes be very dark and it tackles some pretty serious themes. But I found parts of it drily funny, especially the opening chapters, and I absolutely raced through it.
All of which just goes to show that you should never judge a book by its branding, and that there’s no such thing as a book that’s off limits. After all, if one of the joys of fiction is that it lets you walk, if only briefly, in somebody else’s shoes, then you should surely try on as many different pairs as possible, not just pick the boring historian’s shoes every time.
I'm curious to know if there are other readers out there who avoided particular books for years, but then read and enjoyed them. Which books surprised you? Do send us your thoughts and, as always, we’ll print the most interesting ones.
And, some news, we’re hosting our first virtual book club next week. Join Tabby and me on Tuesday October 20 from 6-7pm GMT. Mark this in your diaries and we’ll send a reminder on Tuesday with more information.
Ahead of that, we also need your submissions. Tell us, who are your favourite literary villains and what makes them particularly dastardly? Email in your suggestions by Monday for a chance for us to mention your message on the show. We’ll also be discussing some of your reviews.
Incidentally, you may have noticed that in contrast with most other Goalhanger shows, The Book Club’s episodes are often very long. Every Tuesday, without fail, Tabby says to me: “I think this one should be fairly straightforward. We’ll be done in well under an hour.” And then, when Thursday morning rolls around, it turns out there’s more to talk about than we thought.
With The Bell Jar, there really was so much to discuss. The way in which the plot parallels Plath’s own life, for example. Her experience of rejection and alienation, and how that’s reflected in the book. Or the way the literary skill of female authors is sometimes eclipsed by an emphasis on their emotional rawness and authenticity – as was also the case with, say, Emily Brontë.
Putting my historian’s hat back on, I also think The Bell Jar offers a fascinating glimpse of how one young woman experienced life in Eisenhower’s America in the early 1950s. The tone is set by those first words: “It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they executed the Rosenbergs…”, which brilliantly convey a sense of unease and foreboding.
But personally I think some critics overplay this. It’s absolutely true that this was the imperfect America of McCarthyism and racial segregation; but at the time it was also the most affluent society that had ever existed in human history, offering more freedoms and opportunities to more people than any society before it. So to me it’s more a book about one woman’s experience than a social commentary, although I know some critics don’t see it that way.
The really memorable thing about this episode, though, was of course the food – which as Tabby rightly said, made Patrick Bateman’s dinners in American Psycho sound positively appetising. (Well, some of them, anyway.) I absolutely endorse her view that Plath’s sandwich combination of peanut butter, mayonnaise, onions and bacon is absolutely unforgivable.
I should also stress for our American readers that Tabby’s shock at the reality of biscuits and gravy wasn’t invented or exaggerated for this recording. I remember it well. In fact, our tour across the Atlantic in November 2024 was largely defined by Tabby pulling faces at American meals.
Finally, you’ll surely be relieved to hear that next week’s book is MUCH shorter than usual. You can read it in an evening! But of course we still managed to get another titanic episode out of it.
Until next time,
If you enjoyed The Bell Jar
Some more recommendations for your list
📚 Ariel by Sylvia Plath – This collection of Plath’s poetry is ‘the restored edition’ including extra material and arranged as she intended it. There’s also a foreword from her daughter, Frieda Hughes.
📚 Giving Up: The Last Days of Sylvia Plath by Jillian Becker – An account of the final months of Plath’s life by Becker, a friend who helped care for her following her split from Ted Hughes.
📚 Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates – The portrait of a married couple, Frank and April Wheeler, suffering under the stifling conformity and banality of 1950s suburban life in America.
📚 The Snake Pit by Mary Jane Ward – A semi-autobiographical account of the author’s distressing struggle with her mental illness and her committal to hospital. The reception was said to inspire Plath to write her own story.
🎧 Daddy read by Sylvia Plath – As Tabby mentioned in the episode, you can listen to Plath reading her poem here, just months before her death.
We need your vote
Dominic and Tabby battled with the idea that biographical knowledge of an author can bring depth, but can also distract from their craft. What do you think?
Click to vote – Please LEAVE YOUR NAME at the end of any comment, so we can share your thoughts in next week's newsletter.
Notes on… The Bell Jar
As Dominic said, the beauty of a book club is picking up novels you’d not have considered previously – so we hope The Bell Jar is now in your “to be considered” list. However, it might also be the case that you (like many of us) read the book as a teen and felt it spoke to you in some way. It could be interesting to see, years on, how your perceptions may, or may not, have changed.
“I didn't actually find the book miserable and angst-ridden, and I didn't find it hard work,” Dominic said. “I was reading it on holiday, and I looked forward to when I would get back into it because it was written with a kind of dry humour and a beautiful use of language.”
As the presenters discussed, factors from the book’s marketing to the posthumous myths that have built around the author, have meant Plath’s only novel has become weighed down by expectations that don’t necessarily match the text. If this was your first time reading The Bell Jar, what has held you back until now and what surprised you?
“It's important to say that it's not dramatic,” said Tabby of the descriptions of depression. “You don't get much of a sense of emotional escalation. She is awfully apathetic and numb. And that's what's so dreadful… It's the continuous grey of depression.” The book is rightly praised for its unflinching portrayal of a mental health crisis. What elements of Plath’s descriptions of depression felt uniquely well told? Is this a book that could only be written by someone with lived experience?
Tabby noted that “the subject matter is bleak, but actually the book is not. The colours of the book are quite bright.” How does Plath achieve this?
Plath famously had one poem turned down 45 times by publishers. Did you note this doggedness in her writing? What other examples have you seen of masterpieces that were initially rejected?
“This is the era of the affluent society,” says Dominic. “America is booming, massive cars, big fridges, all of that sort of thing. But it's also the world of McCarthyism.”
Plath famously opens her book saying it’s “the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York." The case of the Rosenbergs (read more about it here) situates us in the strict, conservative society of 50s America, before the author quickly introduces Esther’s feelings of disconnection from it. In what ways does the historical background infiltrate and dictate Esther’s life? How else do you see this specific time period reflected in the narrative?
Dominic described how two world wars had been “dislocating for gender relations in America” and following the men’s return there was a push to “really get back to a conservative, settled, fixed family unit, nuclear family kind of world. So actually, in some ways, the 1950s are more conformist than the decades that went before them.” Esther’s rejection of patriarchal, traditional roles and extreme anxiety around becoming pregnant have seen the book lauded for its feminism. But as the presenters noted, it’s not that simple - Esther judges other women and often is torn by her desire to fit in. How did you judge the book’s feminist credentials? Does it deserve its reputation as a feminist masterpiece?
“[Plath] means a lot to many people,” said Tabby. “She's been viewed as an artist who was driven to take her own life by an oppressive husband in a pre-feminist world. She's seen as a tragic heroine, this troubled genius. I think there's probably truth in all of those portraits, but I also feel like that's probably a little bit reductive. I feel like her death, the circumstances of her death, her marriage, have been sensationalised to the point they've come to overshadow the gregariousness of her character, her wit, how remarkably intelligent she was.”
The book is a roman à clef, about real-life events, yet disguised as fiction and much of the story can be mapped onto Plath’s life. Discuss Tabby’s suggestion you can overestimate the biography of an author and whether that means you can underestimate their craft. Which of your favourite authors have suffered a similar fate?
The book mirrors Plath’s lived experiences, yet so many young women still feel The Bell Jar speaks to them. Why?
Mrs Willard tells Esther: “What a man is is an arrow into the future and what a woman is is the place the arrow shoots off from.” While the book is about Plath’s youth, she wrote it as a mother and wife to Ted Hughes, for whom we know she typed, prepared and even submitted his manuscripts. How much of The Bell Jar do you think reflects Plath’s experiences at that stage of life? How do you read the contrast between Esther’s struggles and Plath’s later life as a mother?
Both Plath’s suicide and her high-profile, tumultuous marriage to Hughes have become inextricably linked to The Bell Jar. The presenters discussed how her death, a month after the book’s publication, “overshadows” the ambiguous ending. Do you agree?
The quote that says it all
“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”
A typically multidimensional line that can be read as affirming and signposting a connection to life, or as a resignation to the ordinariness of the body. It also inspired the title of a wonderful autobiographical work by Maggie O’Farrell. But what quote stayed with you after you finished the book? Email us and let us know.
Who should you give this to?
A ‘rockabilly’ fan who needs some enlightening about over-romanticising the United States in the 1950s? The men in your life who may have cast this novel aside and whose minds could be swayed? Someone who gets knocked down too easily by rejection? Tell us, who would you share this book with?
Recommended reads
We’re taking recommendations here to share with the Book Notes community. Tell us what book fellow members should pick up next by sending two or three sentences about your novel of choice to [email protected] and we’ll feature as many as we can.
Meredith says more people need to read Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers. “Part of the golden age of detective fiction, it also has profound things to say about the roles of men and women, power in relationships, vocation, and ambition, all wrapped up in a sinister college mystery,” she writes.
The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born by Ayi Kwei Armah is a debut novel you must grab, says Charles.
Goodbye to Berlin by Christopher Isherwood is one of several novels Amy wrote in to recommend. “A semi-autobiographical novel set in the Weimar Republic during the rise of the Nazi Party and its clash with the city's decadent escapism,” she says, adding: “Isherwood has an impeccable eye.”
Reviewers’ corner
We can’t wait to see your responses to The Bell Jar. Write in to [email protected] with ‘review’ in the subject line and tell us…
How much the historical context of the novel dictates its plot.
Whether you’re a first time reader who found it defied their expectations.
But first, you had a lot of thoughts about Ian Fleming’s Goldfinger.
Your polls
A record 95.8% of you had the same answer to our poll, agreeing that outdated attitudes don’t put you off picking up novels.
“Actually it’s a helpful glimpse on history both good and bad,” said Juliet. “Let’s say it’s a learning curve tool.” Zdravka agreed: “I see those books as a window to the zeitgeist at the time and a moment where I have the opportunity to see how people lived and what they believed in at the time. I do get agitated but I still read it.”
“If you refused to read books with views which are offensive in today's world, you'd miss out on a huge number of classics! As well as the historical perspective on past societal religious and moral beliefs and attitudes,” Claire writes.
Paul told us: “It depends on what my goal is. Much of my reading is done as if I were a cultural historian... I've read a lot of Noir fiction from the 30s and 40s. There are times I am disappointed an author went in a certain direction, particularly in terms of how they depict women. But there are other times I'm pleasantly surprised when nothing egregious appears. Ultimately, it's just impossible to avoid something objectionable."
When it came to scoring Goldfinger, the majority of you agreed with Tabby’s score of 7/10. “After finishing the book and enjoying this weeks podcast, I watched a double feature of Goldfinger and [Austin Powers’] Goldmember, a fun date night.”
Will, however, was amongst many who were not fans. He gave it 1/10, and we had to include his thoughts: “By quite some distance, Goldfinger is the worst book the podcast has featured. Far more offensive than anything in American Psycho, its proud racism, sexism and homophobia are but symptoms of its terminal case of stupidity. How on earth are we meant to view Bond as a capable, steely defender of the realm when he's clearly an inept pillock? Why does it take him so long to work out that Goldfinger is smuggling gold in the car?… Why does Goldfinger decide to employ Bond, and as his secretary at that? Why mention, in what is surely meant to be a pulse-racing page-turner, every single damn stroke in the golf game, and follow it up with a sedate drive around southern France? That last question indicates the other fatal disease of Goldfinger: it's boring… Goldfinger is irredeemably risible, and if Bond is a fantasy figure, then it's an inadequate's fantasy.”
Maria was similarly disparaging, awarding a 2/10. “Hugely disappointed,” she wrote. “Where was the suspense and the excitement? The most tense scene in the book was resolved by Bond…falling asleep and walking up elsewhere! And don’t get me started on that interminable game of golf!”
The Real Goldfinger
Thank you so much to Emily who wrote to say: “When I was a grad student at UCL’s Bartlett Graduate School for Architecture studying architectural history we visited [Ernő] Goldfinger’s home in London. In his study, on a shelf was Odd Job’s hat, sent to him by Fleming. Just thought you would love that bit of lore.” Indeed we do!
Bond and the…choirmaster
Spurred on by Dominic’s recollections of reading a Bond novel for the first time, Ian wrote in: “I was approx. 14 and our church choirmaster was attempting to teach myself and a friend how to sing in - and therefore transition to - the adult section of the choir, our voices having by this point changed from young and 'angelic' to a deeper pitch. Our choirmaster lent me Casino Royale, which as I read on was certainly an eye-opener!”
He continues: “Before becoming a vicar (and latterly also our choirmaster), Jack Courtney was during WWII a habitual escapee from German POW camps and ultimately interred in Colditz. During choir practice we often side-tracked him into regaling us with Colditz stories, much to his good-natured annoyance when he realised we'd done it yet again to avoid, for example, extremely dull psalm practice.
“By the time I knew him, he was to one and all a kind and gentle old man, but his choice to lend me that book at that stage in my personal journey into adulthood was to me a sure sign that buried within his character was a man who had most probably seen and done some very dark things.
“With the help of a staff member, I found his name in the original ledgers when I visited Colditz around 12 years ago, which was nice.”
British Bond
Janet, 82, told us: “I still have all the Bond paperbacks, four of them are the 1963 edition - the pages are going brown, because paper then was such poor quality. Every few years I get them out and read them in order. It takes me back to being 19 again, and not knowing a great deal about life, but bowled over by the cars, the heavy drinking, the card playing etc, etc. Fast moving and inventive, the stories were exciting. The attitudes towards the women didn't bother me particularly. They was normal at that time.
“The important thing was that Bond was British - not American. Living through the grey 1950s - following so soon after the end of the war - and the growth of everything American, it was wonderful to find someone who constantly conquered foreign villains. Many of the American characters, especially in Diamonds are Forever, are caricatures of American gangsters. All we can do is laugh at them.
“What was even more exciting for me was that in 1964 I moved to Boston, Mass, for two and a half years, as a young secretary. (I had cousins living there). Everyone wanted to hear my English accent and talked to me about both James Bond and the Beatles. I felt very proud.”
Your literary sporting best and worsts
We were bowled over by the number of people who answered Nick’s call for the best and worst sporting moments in literature. Many of you stood up for depictions of golf after Tabby’s dislike of the game in Goldfinger prompted the question.
“What first came to mind is P. G. Wodehouse’s The Clicking of Cuthbert, with the most famous quote being the swing being disturbed ‘by the fluttering of butterflies in the adjacent meadow’,” says Peter, who adds: “In my humble opinion the golf scene in the film Goldfinger is one of the great sporting moments in cinema.”
Lars added: “The best sports book is without doubt The Greatest Game Ever Played by Mark Frost. It is - of course - about golf. Because that is the Greatest Game, hint is in the title. It is also a bit boring somewhere past the 60% mark, just like golf.”
When it came to good sports descriptions, Peter suggested the squash match in Ian McEwan’s Saturday. Joe said baseball was much better served by books like The Natural by Bernard Malamud and The Southpaw by Mark Harris. Jay agreed, adding Chad Harbach’s The Art of Fielding to the list.
Another Peter wrote in saying: “Surely the point of the sporting or gaming scenes in the Bond novels is to highlight a wrong-un? Sir Hugo Drax may masquerade as an English gentleman but the fact that he cheats at bridge reveals that he is no such thing. Add to this any racial, sexual or physical difference and you have a clear indication of a villain. And my vote for the best literary depiction of a sporting event is the cricket match in England, Their England by A. G. Macdonell.”
There was great debate about which side Quidditch in the Harry Potter series fell into.
Rich, from Derby, wrote: “Quidditch is absolutely laughable and dull as dishwater. Not sure it adds anything to the books. And to think that people in the real world 'play' it!
“Where I would disagree is the description of the football match in A Kestrel for a Knave (surely an upcoming subject text for the show). Absolute genius and an integral part of the novel. It says so much about P.E. in secondary schools in the 1960s.”
Marcel said the portrayal of quidditch is “as boring as the game [J. K. Rowling] invented, with no consequences at all to the outcome of the books.” Meanwhile Jeroen felt “passages involving the sport capture the excitement and glamour, without getting hung up on many pages of description and back-and-forth. Other novelists might take note.”
Scoreboard
Book | Dominic’s Verdict | Tabby’s Verdict |
|---|---|---|
The Bell Jar | 8/10 | 9/10 |
Goldfinger | 8/10 | 7/10 |
American Psycho | 6/10 | 6/10 |
Jane Eyre | 10/10 | 10/10 |
A Month in the Country | 9/10 | 8.5/10 |
Next on The Book Club
Here’s what’s coming up in the podcast over the next few weeks…
October 20: White Nights by Fyodor Dostoevsky
October 27: The Shining by Stephen King
November 3: The Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger
November 10: Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian
November 17: To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee
November 24: Money by Martin Amis
December 1: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy by John Le Carré
Keeping score
Tabby gave The Bell Jar nine peanut butter, bacon, onion and mayonnaise sandwiches out of 10 🥜 and Dominic awarded it 8/10. But what do you think?
See you next week for White Nights
The Book Club Team
