Found this great little
blog post discussing the publication of the a poem Ted Hughes wrote about his wife Sylvia Plath. I'm a big Plath fan, and although Hughes is a good poet, I hate him as a person. I think it's pretty telling that his companion after Plath died also committed suicide later on. This sort of thing also reminds me why I'm so glad feminism exists, because it gave women permission to take care of themselves and not sacrifice always for their husbands at the expense of their minds and well-being. Talented young women are far less likely to kill themselves now, and for that I am entirely grateful. We need those talented women to create art, music, and books that forces us to see the suffering and strength of modern young women.
