by Sylvia Plath
A quasi-autobigraphical novel about the summer she had a nervous breakdown. While I found the events somewhat interesting, the story telling itself was not compelling, which is to say that I plodded through, sometimes only reading one short chapter a day. When published, it was hailed as the female "Catcher in the Rye" due to the thematic basis of both. The protagonist is a femanist in the old sense of the word: she wants to be able to do what she wants to do, including having the choice of not marrying and not having kids. She is liberated when her psychiatrist tells her where she can get a birth control device and the book ends with her having sex for the first time and then being released from the psychiatric facilities she has been in. Joy.
One measly gristle.
