Although this post is about my visit to Plath's former home in North Tawton, to begin this first proper post I wanted to briefly sketch out the roots of my interest in Sylvia Plath and her poetry.
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| Newton St. Loe Castle - pictured in 2003 (© N.Smart) |
No doubt I'll expand on this somewhat in future posts, but my first real encounter with her work happened during my studies for my first degree, at Bath Spa University. The poem was 'Tulips' and I recall feeling quite moved by Plath's words, as I sat in the beautiful castle on the Newton Park campus, overlooking the equally beautiful lake. My interest in her poetry grew and, as I started my master's in 2006, this interest led me to an even greater one in the work of her contemporary and friend, Anne Sexton.
My recent interest in Plath, which seems to be far greater and, frankly, all-consuming, began around November 2012. I'm really not sure what precipitated it. I noticed online that a Plath event was to take place in Oxford on 1st June 2013, and felt a sudden urge to attend. Tracy Brain, a Plath expert from Bath Spa was to speak at the event, as was Jo Gill, an expert on Sexton who had lectured at Bath Spa and was now at the University of Exeter. I already had a few of her books, but now that I had a reason to, I bought and read Plath's work much more avidly.
Court Green, in North Tawton, Devon, is the name of the large thatched cottage in which Plath lived with Ted Hughes, and in which she wrote most of the poems that were published as Ariel.
It is about ninety minutes' drive from my house in Weston-super-Mare, and the original plan was for my wife and I to go there on New Year's Day this year. Unfortunately our fifteen-year-old son and his friend had a merry New Year's Eve drinking snakebite in his den room and being sick, so we postponed our trip.
The next opportune time was February, during the schools' half-term break, so we chose the 11th - the fiftieth anniversary of her death.
As we arrived in North Tawton, I began to recognise the road which approaches Court Green, from the photos I'd seen on Peter K. Steinberg's brilliant website, A celebration, this is, copies of which I'd downloaded onto my tablet to help me navigate and recognise significant places. "I feel quite nervous," I said to Kath. Pulling over to park at the place to which the SatNav had lead us, I looked to the right and took in the scene.
"That's the Yew Tree," I said - and explained that the tree was the subject of her poem, 'The Moon and the Yew Tree'.
We walked into the churchyard that adjoins the house, and looked around. I knew from the poem, and another, 'Letter in November', that the house was separated from the churchyard by a row of headstones.
I hadn't realised that the headstones extended around the entire perimeter of the yard. It was an eerie feeling to be surrounded in this way.
I walked to the border between the house and the graveyard as Kath stayed on the path. Alone there, it was a melancholy feeling. It seems melodramatic, but I understand why Plath related that "spiritous mists inhabit this place".
I took lots of photos and rejoined Kath, asking her to take some photos of me by the wall of gravestones.
Walking towards the end of the private lane which leads up to the house at Court Green, I paused for a second and looked up to the house.
Instantly, I heard a friendly-sounding voice:
"Hi"
"Hi"
"I mind!"
"Pardon?"
"I mind!!"
"...Sorry"
(Shouting angrily) "It's been my home for over forty years!"
It was Carol Hughes, Ted's widow. Kath and I walked the few steps back to the car, dejectedly. Any romantic notions of my Plath pilgrimage were vanquished. I felt I had intruded into a world in which I didn't belong, and began to question my right to research the life and work of someone who had lived so recently, and many of whose family, friends and acquaintances were still living. I could quite understand how Mrs Hughes would not welcome visitors who came to view her house because her late husband's first wife had lived there. I imagine she may have been on the lookout for Plath-related visitors on the anniversary of her death.
When we arrived home, Kath and I reflected on the experience. I looked at my shelf of books by Plath and Hughes, re-read some of Plath's poems, and reflected on the fact that the royalties from these books had contributed to the house at Court Green.
That evening, to mark the anniversary, Maeve O'Brien was hosting an event at the University of Ulster, and streaming it online. I watched as academics, including Philip McGowan, gave papers about Plath and her work. Some read her poems, whilst others read their own work inspired by her. By listening, and by re-reading Plath's work I was able to start to re-connect and to feel that there is indeed value in studying Sylvia Plath's work. My interest in Plath has increased steadily since then.
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| Court Green (©N.Smart) |
Court Green, in North Tawton, Devon, is the name of the large thatched cottage in which Plath lived with Ted Hughes, and in which she wrote most of the poems that were published as Ariel.
 |
| Yew Tree in St. Peter's (©N.Smart) |
"That's the Yew Tree," I said - and explained that the tree was the subject of her poem, 'The Moon and the Yew Tree'.
 |
| St. Peter's (©N.Smart) |
Walking towards the end of the private lane which leads up to the house at Court Green, I paused for a second and looked up to the house.
"Hi"
"Hi"
"I mind!"
"Pardon?"
"I mind!!"
"...Sorry"
(Shouting angrily) "It's been my home for over forty years!"
It was Carol Hughes, Ted's widow. Kath and I walked the few steps back to the car, dejectedly. Any romantic notions of my Plath pilgrimage were vanquished. I felt I had intruded into a world in which I didn't belong, and began to question my right to research the life and work of someone who had lived so recently, and many of whose family, friends and acquaintances were still living. I could quite understand how Mrs Hughes would not welcome visitors who came to view her house because her late husband's first wife had lived there. I imagine she may have been on the lookout for Plath-related visitors on the anniversary of her death.
 |
| By the 'row of old corpses' (©N.Smart) |
When we arrived home, Kath and I reflected on the experience. I looked at my shelf of books by Plath and Hughes, re-read some of Plath's poems, and reflected on the fact that the royalties from these books had contributed to the house at Court Green.
That evening, to mark the anniversary, Maeve O'Brien was hosting an event at the University of Ulster, and streaming it online. I watched as academics, including Philip McGowan, gave papers about Plath and her work. Some read her poems, whilst others read their own work inspired by her. By listening, and by re-reading Plath's work I was able to start to re-connect and to feel that there is indeed value in studying Sylvia Plath's work. My interest in Plath has increased steadily since then.
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