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Wuthering Heights Analysis

Author: poem of Sylvia Plath Type: poem Views: 20

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The horizons ring me like faggots,

Tilted and disparate, and always unstable.

Touched by a match, they might warm me,

And their fine lines singe

The air to orange

Before the distances they pin evaporate,

Weighting the pale sky with a soldier color.

But they only dissolve and dissolve

Like a series of promises, as I step forward.

There is no life higher than the grasstops

Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind

Pours by like destiny, bending

Everything in one direction.

I can feel it trying

To funnel my heat away.

If I pay the roots of the heather

Too close attention, they will invite me

To whiten my bones among them.

The sheep know where they are,

Browsing in their dirty wool-clouds,

Gray as the weather.

The black slots of their pupils take me in.

It is like being mailed into space,

A thin, silly message.

They stand about in grandmotherly disguise,

All wig curls and yellow teeth

And hard, marbly baas.

I come to wheel ruts, and water

Limpid as the solitudes

That flee through my fingers.

Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass;

Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves.

Of people and the air only

Remembers a few odd syllables.

It rehearses them moaningly:

Black stone, black stone.

The sky leans on me, me, the one upright

Among all horizontals.

The grass is beating its head distractedly.

It is too delicate

For a life in such company;

Darkness terrifies it.

Now, in valleys narrow

And black as purses, the house lights

Gleam like small change.


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||| Analysis | Critique | Overview Below |||

.: :.

I know that moorland and Plath\'s description is exact. The desolation of spirit that environment imposes is as she describes. I think some readers are interpreting from hindsight of the poet\'s life. The moor renders all human life alien, not just Plath\'s. I think her reference to the burning horizon is the desperate longing you get amongst that cold grey hostility for some colour which could come from a sinking sun. The lights from the valley tell us that dusk approaches.

| Posted on 2013-02-11 | by a guest

.: :.

Remarkable work . For those with ears will hear.
Howard Bellaby

| Posted on 2012-10-25 | by a guest

.: :.

She feels foreign and alien in this country side. Her surroundings are erasing her identity, she feels as though she does not belong and as if a huge burden is bestowed upon her. This is evident by the repetition of \'me,me..\'.This emphasises the shock she feels towards feeling alien as well as the feeling of isolation.

| Posted on 2012-05-15 | by a guest

.: :.

Here, Plath is kind of relating her self to Catherine (from Wuthering Heights). Both are tempted into suicide, both are strongly connected to the nature around them. Unusual though to have such a negative connotation with the horizons.

| Posted on 2012-04-26 | by a guest

.: :.

Houses are expensive and not everyone is able to buy it. However, home loans are created to help different people in such cases.

| Posted on 2012-04-03 | by a guest

.: :.

Poems arent meant to be analysed, they are meant to inspire and enjoy, not to spend hours pouring over its meanings which only the poet knows, Just read it and enjoy.

| Posted on 2010-12-01 | by a guest

.: :.

This poem is all about Plath's feelings towards being an American living in a small Devon village. The sheep with their 'yellow teeth' represent the English and the poem has an overall sense of entrapment. She says 'I can feel it trying to funnel my heat away' showing that she feels that her life is ebbing away from her. She feels insignificant and unwanted. She describes herself as a 'thin silly message' which shows that the poem is not ego-centric but very self-deprecating.

| Posted on 2009-12-09 | by a guest

.: :.

What is this shit? lmao what a waste of bloody time.

| Posted on 2009-10-18 | by a guest

.: :.

Sylvia Plath is being tempted by the landscape to just lie down and die. She is in a suicidal state of mind and we can speculate that it has something to do with the promises that have been broken to her. This is expressed in the lines:
'But they only dissolve and dissolve
Like a series of promises, as I step forward.'

| Posted on 2008-04-22 | by a guest

.: :.

Plath’s poem is written in response to her visit to Haworth. It is very egocentric. Unlike Hughes’ "Wuthering Heights", the beginning is particularly attention grabbing, as Plath informs the reader of how
“The horizons ring me like faggots,
Tilted and disparate, and always unstable.
Touches by a match, they might warm me”.
The fact that the horizon calls to her mind an image of being burnt alive is startling, as horizons are associated with a sense of freedom and liberation. From this detailed account of how the horizon makes Plath feel, her ego-centricity is immediately established, as Plath is the subject of both sentences, and the pronoun “me” is repeated.

| Posted on 2007-03-18 | by a guest

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