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I loved this reading of 'Balloons', particularly the vacuum-balloon connection! For me, the most curious thing about the publication/editing of Plath's poems is why no-one has ever collected the last poems, the ones Hughes seemed to think she was saving for a third book. This would include those last twelve poems from the completed 'Sheep in Fog' to 'Edge' and 'Balloons.' Given how Plath sells, why no last poems collection? I cannot understand it. It can be persuasively argued that we have the beginnings of what Plath’s intended as her third book -- a very different prospect to seeing them as a chunk of the Collected - why has this never been made available as a slim volume of its own? They are a hard-earned (See Hughes on the revisions of 'Sheep in Fog’) departure from Ariel and I think such a volume could change our reading of her work as a whole. That’s my (lengthy) two pennyworth, anyway. Cheers.

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This is a very good point! Yes, the way Hughes put those poems out in different books really muddled their arrangement. I have always wondered why Faber did a Selected Poems for a poet with only 2.5 full collections (sales, again, presumably). I fear it was all guided by Hughes' idée fixe that great poets are really writing one long 'unified' poem in pieces: he says this of Plath, Shakespeare, Eliot etc, and presumably hoped it would be said of his own much less quality-controlled oeuvre... But now we have the original Ariel, so why not the 'post-Ariel'?

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Exactly this! Where is post-Ariel Plath?

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This is a lovely piece. There's another balloon in Winnie the Pooh – the present that Piglet gives Eeyore but excitedly bursts before he hands it over. Eeyore finds something to enjoy in what's left of it.

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Ah yes! I remember that picture now. Also a good parallel for the end of the poem (because kids will play with burst balloons, although possibly babies shouldn't...)

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Wonderful poem (new to me) and essay. Joy and woe are woven fine, and Sylvia Plath’s capacity for joy was part of her almost until the very end. She was so much more than her death and myth.

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Very much enjoyed this, Jeremy, and your reminder that Plath’s Ariel was deliberately structured by her to suggest the possibility of hope. I love that - right to the end- she could create such extraordinary and hopeful poetry from something as ordinary as children’s party balloons (purchased from Woolworths, much-missed!) Then, if you’ll forgive the clumsy metaphor, it was like a the shock of a balloon popping to discover my own post mentioned at the end. Thank you!

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A neat metaphor! Plath really enters into the imaginative world of the child, for whom the balloon is such a miraculous thing -- and such a loss when it pops.

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Such a wise and thoughtful article. I’ve always loved this poem because it feels so deeply poignant, like a gift to her children. I didn’t realize it may have been her final poem. “Since Christmas they have lived with us,” is a striking opening line. To picture her collecting images from what she sees around her, the “oval soul-animals” that morph into moons and globes, shape-shift into fish, cats, and peacocks, makes me wonder if she was gathering them in hopes of giving them a joyful, transformative story. Was this the “funny pink world” she wanted to create for them? I think you make a great argument that she succeeded.

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Thank you, Mary -- I'm glad you thought so. Something I was wondering about the poem while looking for vintage party balloon ads as an illustration was whether the 'Yellow cathead, blue fish' reflected actual animal shapes or stick-on/printed decorations. It seems possible such things were popular and available. Will May points out that there is a mention of 'rabbit-eared balloons' in The Bell Jar...

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Just adding my appreciation to all the rest! I don't know if you caught Emily Berry's R4 piece last year, but it's based around an interview with Ruth Fainlight, who hasn't really spoken on record before but might've been the closest person to Plath at the time. She tells a similar, more positive (for want of better word) story. The baby being 'full' makes me think of MacNeice - 'let them not spill me'. Also just makes me think of babies!

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Ah yes -- I must see if I can find that. Ruth Fainlight came to mind when I thought about how Plath might still have been writing: RF published a new book about 5 years ago. Hard to think of a *poet* who writes so well about babies before Plath (novelists, maybe).

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I’m so delighted you found my short piece from a quarter-century ago and reminded me of it!

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I was very pleased to find it! I wonder what Hughes would have said if you'd asked him...

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What a wonderful essay! She mentions her brother in this poem, so one could surmise that in her time of pain (right before her death), she is reimagining a childhood memory. Perhaps she saw herself as a balloon that could be popped at the slightest “bite” as per Hughes’ behaviour?

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