Sylvia, 1952. Aurelia later sent a print of this photograph to Sylvia’s children, and wrote on the back: “To Frieda and Nick/Fall of 1952/Sylvia – your mummy, who loved you with all her heart.”
Whenever I look at a picture of Sylvia Plath, she always looks so out of place.
I don’t see a woman from the 40’s or the 50’s.
I see a woman who should be in paintings or daguerreotypes.
It’s strange because I don’t think that about nearly anyone else, living or dead.