'Berck-Plage' by Sylvia Plath
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The Collected Poems1962(1)This is the sea, then, this great abeyance.
How the sun's poultice draws on my inflammation.Electrifyingly-colored sherbets, scooped from the freeze
By pale girls, travel the air in scorched hands.Why is it so quiet, what are they hiding?
I have two legs, and I move smilingly..A sandy damper kills the vibrations;
It stretches for miles, the shrunk voicesWaving and crutchless, half their old size.
The lines of the eye, scalded by these bald surfaces,Boomerang like anchored elastics, hurting the owner.
Is it any wonder he puts on dark glasses?Is it any wonder he affects a black cassock?
Here he comes now, among the mackerel gatherersWho wall up their backs against him.
They are handling the black and green lozenges like the parts of a body.The sea, that crystallized these,
Creeps away, many-snaked, with a long hiss of distress.(2)This black boot has no mercy for anybody.
Why should it, it is the hearse of a dad foot,The high, dead, toeless foot of this priest
Who plumbs the well of his book,The bent print bulging before him like scenery.
Obscene bikinis hid in the dunes,Breasts and hips a confectioner's sugar
Of little crystals, titillating the light,While a green pool opens its eye,
Sick with what it has swallowed----Limbs, images, shrieks.Behind the concrete bunkers
Two lovers unstick themselves.O white sea-crockery,
What cupped sighs, what salt in the throat....And the onlooker, trembling,
Drawn like a long materialThrough a still virulence,
And a weed, hairy as privates.(3)On the balconies of the hotel, things are glittering.
Things, things----Tubular steel wheelchairs, aluminum crutches.
Such salt-sweetness.Why should I walkBeyond the breakwater, spotty with barnacles?
I am not a nurse, white and attendant,I am not a smile.
These children are after something, with hooks and cries,And my heart too small to bandage their terrible faults.
This is the side of a man:his red ribs,The nerves bursting like trees, and this is the surgeon:
One mirrory eye----A facet of knowledge.
On a striped mattress in one roomAn old man is vanishing.
There is no help in his weeping wife.Where are the eye-stones, yellow and valuable,
And the tongue, sapphire of ash.(4)A wedding-cake face in a paper frill.
How superior he is now.It is like possessing a saint.
The nurses in their wing-caps are no longer so beautiful;They are browning, like touched gardenias.
The bed is rolled from the wall.This is what it is to be complete.It is horrible.
Is he wearing pajamas or an evening suitUnder the glued sheet from which his powdery beak
Rises so whitely unbuffeted?They propped his jaw with a book until it stiffened
And folded his hands, that were shaking:goodbye, goodbye.Now the washed sheets fly in the sun,
The pillow cases are sweetening.It is a blessing, it is a blessing:
The long coffin of soap-colored oak,The curious bearers and the raw date
Engraving itself in silver with marvelous calm.(5)The gray sky lowers, the hills like a green sea
Run fold upon fold far off, concealing their hollows,The hollows in which rock the thoughts of the wife----
Blunt, practical boatsFull of dresses and hats and china and married daughters.
In the parlor of the stone houseOne curtain is flickering from the open window,
Flickering and pouring, a pitiful candle.This is the tongue of the dead man:remember, remember.
How far he is now, his actionsAround him like living room furniture, like a décor.
As the pallors gather----The pallors of hands and neighborly faces,
The elate pallors of flying iris.They are flying off into nothing:remember us.
The empty benches of memory look over stones,Marble facades with blue veins, and jelly-glassfuls of daffodils.
It is so beautiful up here:it is a stopping place.(6)The natural fatness of these lime leaves!----
Pollarded green balls, the trees march to church.The voice of the priest, in thin air,
Meets the corpse at the gate,Addressing it, while the hills roll the notes of the dead bell;
A glittler of wheat and crude earth.What is the name of that color?----
Old blood of caked walls the sun heals,Old blood of limb stumps, burnt hearts.
The widow with her black pocketbook and three daughters,Necessary among the flowers,
Enfolds her lace like fine linen,Not to be spread again.
While a sky, wormy with put-by smiles,Passes cloud after cloud.
And the bride flowers expend a freshness,And the soul is a bride
In a still place, and the groom is red and forgetful, he is featureless.(7)Behind the glass of this car
The world purrs, shut-off and gentle.And I am dark-suited and still, a member of the party,
Gliding up in low gear behind the cart.And the priest is a vessel,
A tarred fabric, sorry and dull,Following the coffin on its flowery cart like a beautiful woman,
A crest of breasts, eyelids and lipsStorming the hilltop.
Then, from the barred yard, the childrenSmell the melt of shoe-blacking,
Their faces turning, wordless and slow,Their eyes opening
On a wonderful thing----Six round black hats in the grass and a lozenge of wood,
And a naked mouth, red and awkward.For a minute the sky pours into the hole like plasma.
There is no hope, it is given up.
Editor 1 Interpretation
A Study of Sylvia Plath's "Berck-Plage"
As one of the most celebrated and controversial poets of the 20th century, Sylvia Plath has contributed a body of literature that continues to inspire, provoke, and challenge readers. Her poems are often characterized by their raw honesty and intense emotional power, as well as their vivid and sometimes grotesque imagery.
One of Plath's most haunting and powerful poems is "Berck-Plage," which was written during her stay at a hospital in France in 1956. The poem is a deeply personal account of Plath's experiences at the seaside town of Berck, where she was hospitalized for a serious illness. In this essay, we will examine the themes, imagery, and poetic techniques used in "Berck-Plage" to explore the complex emotions and ideas that underlie this powerful work of poetry.
The Themes of "Berck-Plage"
At its core, "Berck-Plage" is a meditation on the theme of mortality and the fragility of the human body. Throughout the poem, Plath uses vivid and often grotesque imagery to paint a picture of the hospital and its inhabitants. She describes "The chalky, paper-skinned bodies / Of the flopping sea" and "The white hospital, with its turrets and balconies / Like a castle in a nightmare," creating a sense of unease and discomfort that underscores the poem's central theme.
The poem is also a meditation on the theme of alienation and the sense of being disconnected from the world. Plath describes the hospital as a place of "grayness and drizzle," where the patients are isolated from the world around them. She writes, "The world is a great blood-cell, / Red and white, the machinery that gives it motion / Labors and throbs," emphasizing the sense of detachment that she feels from the world outside.
Finally, "Berck-Plage" is a reflection on the theme of memory and the ways in which our experiences shape and define us. Plath's vivid descriptions of the hospital and its inhabitants suggest that these experiences have left an indelible mark on her psyche, shaping her perceptions of the world around her. She writes, "The ribs / Of the rocks show through, they have nothing to hide," suggesting that the hospital and its inhabitants are stripped bare, exposed to the harsh realities of life and death.
The Imagery of "Berck-Plage"
One of the most striking aspects of "Berck-Plage" is its vivid and often grotesque imagery. Plath's descriptions of the hospital and its inhabitants are both haunting and evocative, painting a picture of a world that is both alien and familiar.
Plath uses a variety of images to create a sense of unease and discomfort, from the "chalky, paper-skinned bodies" of the patients to the "grayness and drizzle" of the hospital itself. She also uses animal imagery to evoke a sense of primal fear and discomfort, describing the patients as "creatures" and "innocent monsters" who are "crippled and sick."
Perhaps the most striking imagery in the poem, however, is Plath's use of water imagery to reflect the theme of mortality and the fragility of the human body. She describes the patients as "flopping sea[s]" and "shells," suggesting that they are frail and easily broken. She also compares the hospital to a "submarine, / Taking a slow look at the ocean floor," emphasizing the sense of isolation and detachment that the patients feel from the world around them.
The Poetic Techniques of "Berck-Plage"
Plath's use of poetic techniques in "Berck-Plage" is masterful and effective, heightening the sense of unease and discomfort that permeates the poem. One of the most notable techniques that she uses is repetition, particularly in the repetition of certain sounds and words. For example, she repeats the phrase "chalky, paper-skinned" several times throughout the poem, emphasizing the frailty of the patients' bodies.
Plath also uses enjambment to create a sense of flow and continuity throughout the poem. Lines such as "The gray sky lowers, / Crowding close to the hills" and "The chalk-white arrows / Of the gulls" flow seamlessly into one another, creating a sense of movement and fluidity that mirrors the ebb and flow of the tide.
Finally, Plath's use of metaphor and symbolism is particularly effective in "Berck-Plage." She compares the hospital to a "submarine," suggesting that the patients are cut off from the world around them. She also compares the patients to "innocent monsters," emphasizing the sense of alienation and isolation that they feel. These metaphors and symbols help to create a sense of depth and complexity in the poem, allowing readers to explore the complex emotions and ideas that underlie Plath's work.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Sylvia Plath's "Berck-Plage" is a haunting and powerful meditation on the themes of mortality, alienation, and memory. Through vivid and often grotesque imagery and masterful use of poetic techniques, Plath creates a world that is both alien and familiar, inviting readers to explore the complex emotions and ideas that underlie her work. Whether read as a reflection on the human condition or as a deeply personal account of Plath's own experiences, "Berck-Plage" is a work of poetry that continues to inspire, provoke, and challenge readers to this day.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Sylvia Plath's "Berck-Plage" is a haunting and evocative poem that captures the bleakness and despair of a seaside town in France. The poem is a powerful meditation on the fragility of life and the inevitability of death, and it is filled with vivid and haunting imagery that lingers in the mind long after the poem has been read.
The poem is set in Berck-Plage, a small seaside town in northern France that was known for its sanatoriums and hospitals. Plath herself spent time in Berck-Plage in 1956, where she was treated for a miscarriage. The experience left a deep impression on her, and it is clear that the town and its inhabitants had a profound impact on her writing.
The poem begins with a stark and chilling image: "This is the sea, then, this great abeyance." The sea is described as a vast and empty void, a place of darkness and uncertainty. The use of the word "abeyance" suggests a sense of suspended animation, as if the sea is waiting for something to happen.
The next few lines describe the town itself, with its "grey and drab" buildings and its "sickly, uncoloured" inhabitants. The people of Berck-Plage are described as "a society of water," as if they are all drowning in the sea that surrounds them. The use of the word "society" suggests a sense of community, but it is a community that is defined by its sickness and its proximity to death.
The poem then turns to the hospital, which is described as a place of "white towers" and "white hospital sheets." The hospital is a place of confinement and isolation, where the sick and dying are cut off from the rest of the world. The use of the word "white" suggests a sense of purity and cleanliness, but it also suggests a sense of sterility and emptiness.
The poem then describes the patients themselves, who are "like invalids / Carried shoreward on the white-capped waves." The use of the word "invalids" suggests a sense of weakness and vulnerability, while the image of them being carried by the waves suggests a sense of helplessness and lack of control. The patients are also described as being "carried shoreward," as if they are being brought closer to death with each passing moment.
The poem then turns to the figure of the doctor, who is described as a "god" who "presides over a sterile birth." The doctor is a figure of authority and power, but he is also a figure of death, presiding over the birth of new life that is doomed to end in sickness and death. The use of the word "sterile" suggests a sense of emptiness and futility, as if the doctor's efforts are ultimately futile in the face of death.
The final lines of the poem are perhaps the most haunting of all: "The day is ending, / The night is descending / And the tide is slowly washing away the hospital sheets." The use of the word "ending" suggests a sense of finality and closure, while the image of the tide washing away the hospital sheets suggests a sense of erasure and oblivion. The patients and the hospital itself are slowly being erased by the sea, as if they never existed at all.
In conclusion, Sylvia Plath's "Berck-Plage" is a powerful and haunting poem that captures the bleakness and despair of a seaside town in France. The poem is filled with vivid and haunting imagery that lingers in the mind long after the poem has been read, and it is a powerful meditation on the fragility of life and the inevitability of death. Plath's experience in Berck-Plage clearly had a profound impact on her writing, and this poem is a testament to her ability to capture the essence of a place and its people in words.
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