Excerpts
Variations on Hating: A Miniseries: Dido Merwin on Sylvia Plath
Dido Merwin lived in one of these beautiful houses at some point in her life. In the biography Bitter Fame: A Life Of Sylvia Plath by Anne Stevenson (which is not as good as Janet Malcolm’s book, The Silent Woman, although it is more extensive), there is an appendix that contains a nasty thing written by Dido Merwin called “Vessel of Wrath: A Memoir of Sylvia Plath”:
By the time Bill and I left for France, towards the end of May, my illusions concerning a normal easygoing friendship with Sylvia had evaporated. It was becoming hard to differentiate between raised eyebrows and hackles, and harder still to ignore the problem of how to accomodate her morbidly prickly ego with one’s own sense of outrage.
The answer-if there was one- seemed to lie in her penchant for categories and stereotypes, plus the fact that, manifestly from her point of view, an amenable stooge was a better bet than an unmanageable soi-distant friend. “Unmanageable” after all, implied unpredictable and anything in that line was suspect. Otherness made her uneasy. What she needed was the reassurance of docile doppelgangers and supportive soul mates and yes-persons.
And here is Dido on Sylvia’s appetite:
What still remains a mystery is how she managed to put away the entire midday meal that I left her, Ted, and Bill. And that this Pantagruelian triple lunch in no way diminished the gusto with which she silently tucked into her dinner, doing more than justice to sundry delectable coals of fire contributed by Margot.
As I watched Sylvia grimly downing the Fons foie gras for the world as though it were “Aunt Dot’s meatloaf” there was little doubt that we were in for a reign of, if not terror, then tiresomeness every bit as effective.
As they say, with friends like Dido, who needs enemies?
Tags: dido merwin, sylvia plath
What happened to your last post, pr? I thought it was valid, and good.
What happened to your last post, pr? I thought it was valid, and good.
Thanks Red, I appreciate you saying that. I couldn’t handle being accused of ruining someone’s day, even if that person is in BASS and was awarded a Pushcart. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s day ever! But I did write from an honest place.
Had you read the story?
My apologies, pr. By bringing up the author’s feelings, I didn’t mean to single you out, per se, as the one responsible for them. I just think it’s dangerous when one story, or one author, becomes somehow a metonym for the entire editorial strategy of a literary journal or press. Regardless of the story’s literary merit, it receives, I think, undue attention and blame. Instead of, say, simply being a mediocre tale, it becomes the epitome of Everything That’s Wrong With Literature Today, and that’s not a very productive way to look at any particular piece of writing, I don’t think.
I might be sensitive to this because a while ago I very publicly expressed similar disappointment in a story published by One Story, only later to be contacted by the author, who had been very hurt by my comments. And that wasn’t even with the added insult of people “chiming in” to agree with my pronouncement! Ultimately, I realized that there were much better things to raise my fist against than a fellow author, even if she does not share my aesthetic.
So, yeah, didn’t mean to get on a high horse or anything. Just speaking from experience.
My apologies, pr. By bringing up the author’s feelings, I didn’t mean to single you out, per se, as the one responsible for them. I just think it’s dangerous when one story, or one author, becomes somehow a metonym for the entire editorial strategy of a literary journal or press. Regardless of the story’s literary merit, it receives, I think, undue attention and blame. Instead of, say, simply being a mediocre tale, it becomes the epitome of Everything That’s Wrong With Literature Today, and that’s not a very productive way to look at any particular piece of writing, I don’t think.
I might be sensitive to this because a while ago I very publicly expressed similar disappointment in a story published by One Story, only later to be contacted by the author, who had been very hurt by my comments. And that wasn’t even with the added insult of people “chiming in” to agree with my pronouncement! Ultimately, I realized that there were much better things to raise my fist against than a fellow author, even if she does not share my aesthetic.
So, yeah, didn’t mean to get on a high horse or anything. Just speaking from experience.
Thanks for apologizing, but really there was no need. I took down the post because I am ultra-sensitive, much like, it seems, the person who contacted you with her/his hurt feelings.
That said, I’ve had negative things written in response to things here, as well as to my own fiction and have always tried to chalk it up to “well, that’s what I get for putting myself out there”. I once had an agent write “this offended me” about a satire/novel I wrote. Yeah, it hurt and confused me. But, hey, I sent it out. Another time, a story of mine was bashed in a blog. I wrote the guy- not saying “my feelings were hurt” but just correcting him on the wrongness regarding the career ( a factual point) of another author. By writing him and correcting him, I let him know that I had read his post on me. He thanked me for the correction. So, I’m no stranger to insults and the pain they cause, but I do think it is part of putting oneself out there.
I was trying to tie in a certain “Iowa produces great writers” with a skepticism of that idea. It was meant to start a discussion, but perhaps a mean-spirited one, and so out of regret I took it down. It was in no way meant to be “this is everyhing that is wrong with literature”, but perhaps it was meant to say “don’t believe the hype”. Whatever, I’m too wimpy to continue it, because I suck at hurting people’s feelings.
Listen, if criticism is warranted — and in the case you singled out, pr, I believe it was — I think it’s fine to trample on a story, regardless of the author’s feelings. Frankly, not doing so — keeping mum out of politeness or feelings of awkwardness — is a disservice. We all seemed to agree that the story she wrote was sub-par. It was an intensely boring work. It was also very typical, as you correctly stated, of the stories that slide year after year from the factory doors of the IWW.
Unlike Shya, I see absolutely no problem with “singling out” a story whose style you find lacking. I see no problem with using it to point to the faults of a greater trend. I’m sorry, but you don’t want to “raise your fist against a fellow author”? What is this? Nursery school? Be bold! If it’s bullshit, if it’s boring, if it doesn’t deserve to be given a Pushcart, if you can explain why it doesn’t deserve to be given a Pushcart — and yet it’s given a Pushcart in front of other, more worthy stories? By God — you are in your right to start swinging haymakers! You have all the justification in the world.
If an artistic mode is flagging, if it’s weighed down by cliches of its own design, if it makes for uninteresting and unentertaining reading, it should be taken down. It’s the Law of Life. It’s wolves stalking the old. It’s Jack London. Eggs are going to be broken. Skulls are going to be crushed. Feelings are going to be hurt. It’s life.
Frankly, if an author can’t handle criticism — and has the temerity call up a stranger and complain that legitimate (or, hell, illegitimate) criticism hurt her precious feelings? She needs to get out of the business. Enough with the coddling of mediocre talents. Enough.
Let’s make a stand.
Roll up your fucking sleeves, ladies. Brace to meet the fray. Let’s pull for truth over politeness. Let’s dig for fire. No one said the high-profile literary life was going to be pretty.
And if they did, hell — line them up and shoot them with the rest.
– Comrade Red
Listen, if criticism is warranted — and in the case you singled out, pr, I believe it was — I think it’s fine to trample on a story, regardless of the author’s feelings. Frankly, not doing so — keeping mum out of politeness or feelings of awkwardness — is a disservice. We all seemed to agree that the story she wrote was sub-par. It was an intensely boring work. It was also very typical, as you correctly stated, of the stories that slide year after year from the factory doors of the IWW.
Unlike Shya, I see absolutely no problem with “singling out” a story whose style you find lacking. I see no problem with using it to point to the faults of a greater trend. I’m sorry, but you don’t want to “raise your fist against a fellow author”? What is this? Nursery school? Be bold! If it’s bullshit, if it’s boring, if it doesn’t deserve to be given a Pushcart, if you can explain why it doesn’t deserve to be given a Pushcart — and yet it’s given a Pushcart in front of other, more worthy stories? By God — you are in your right to start swinging haymakers! You have all the justification in the world.
If an artistic mode is flagging, if it’s weighed down by cliches of its own design, if it makes for uninteresting and unentertaining reading, it should be taken down. It’s the Law of Life. It’s wolves stalking the old. It’s Jack London. Eggs are going to be broken. Skulls are going to be crushed. Feelings are going to be hurt. It’s life.
Frankly, if an author can’t handle criticism — and has the temerity call up a stranger and complain that legitimate (or, hell, illegitimate) criticism hurt her precious feelings? She needs to get out of the business. Enough with the coddling of mediocre talents. Enough.
Let’s make a stand.
Roll up your fucking sleeves, ladies. Brace to meet the fray. Let’s pull for truth over politeness. Let’s dig for fire. No one said the high-profile literary life was going to be pretty.
And if they did, hell — line them up and shoot them with the rest.
– Comrade Red
Hey, Red, I really appreciate your support. I just wish I had lived up to your thesis, but I didn’t. I wrote a brief thing on my dislike of her story, to start a discussion. On a blog. It wasn’t well thought out- it was short and not kind. I stand by my dislike. I wanted to start a discussion of something. But it wasn’t a well thought out thing. I think we do that from time to time here at the Giant- I don’t take back my feelings on that story, but I take back my ability to argue it in a well informed manner. Maybe I should put more time into my posts. I wish I could put as much time and energy into these posts as I want to, That said, I really appreciate your support, that my short bitchy thing ,was not without merit.
If you want to spend your time tearing down the work of other writers, Red, go ahead. There’s plenty of work to tear down. Sounds like a pretty sorry enterprise to me.
If you want to spend your time tearing down the work of other writers, Red, go ahead. There’s plenty of work to tear down. Sounds like a pretty sorry enterprise to me.
Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was an American poet, novelist, children’s author, and short story author.
Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was an American poet, novelist, children’s author, and short story author.