This is a nice photo of Plath looking not to pensive in England, I assume. I like how she's sitting--it's almost lotus position--though it does not look very comfortable. I once did a paper on Plath in high school and was enamoured with her all the way until I met Ken, who disabused me of the notion that all writers should emulate her. I still admire her writing and once sent my friend Katie to find the brownstone where she lived in London. It had been occupied by Yeats and I believe it is where she met her demise, tragically. "No blue plaque with your name" is what I remember Katie writing of the visit.
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