Sylvia Plath Lived Here

I blogged previously about my trip to  London to hear the readings of Plath's Ariel at Royal Festival Hall in May. What I did not say about that day was that, en route to the hall, I visited two places in which Sylvia Plath had lived in London.

When I learned that the Ariel reading would be taking place, I resolved to be there and went online to buy a ticket at the first opportunity. I chose a seat in the rear stall, as these were the best seats available that I could afford. As popular as Plath undoubtedly is, there's no getting away from the fact that, in the scheme of things, literature is a bit of a niche interest these days. Even more so, poetry. And even more so any particular poet. Because of this, I am quite accustomed to attending Plath-related events alone. Indeed, it is often conducive to the enjoyment of the experience to be so, as it affords the chance to contemplate. Still, I fancied some company for this jaunt, so I asked my mum if she's like to come. She would. Great. The seats near to the one I had already reserved were also reserved by now, so we bought two tickets for seats on the balcony. Sadly, she was not well in the week leading up to the day of the performance, and felt that she'd be hard pressed not to cough loudly through the performance. In fact, it would hardly have mattered, since, as I reported in my review of the event, each set of three readings was received with loud coughing from hundreds of people in the audience! 

So I drove up alone, but happy to be taking the trip, and with a choice of three seats in which to sit. Before the performance, I wanted to visit two places.

3 Chalcot Square

3 Chalcot Square, where Plath lived with Ted Hughes in 1960-1961, and 23 Fitzroy Road, where she lived the last weeks of her life in 1962-63. I guess I'd chosen to see the houses in this order in order to give myself a little time to psych myself up for seeing  Fitzroy Road, the place in which Plath ended her life. My plan didn't work out though. I wasn't very familiar with the geography of the place, and had not realised that the two roads intersect each other. Thus my route to Chalcot Square sent me through Fitzroy Road. I had a strange feeling as I unexpectedly saw the plaque, to former occupant WB Yeats, on the front of the house as I drove by and realised the significance of the place I'd just past.

I drove round to Chalcot Square and parked the car near to number 3. Behind me was one of those lovely little semi-public gardens that they sometimes have in squares In London.

The house overlooked this. I wound down the window of the car. It was a hot day, and families were playing and sunbathing, whilst the sound of live jazz drifted through the air, from the garden of a nearby pub, I assumed. It was an idyllic scene.

The garden at Chalcot Square

I had not expected this! I've been to London quite a few times, but always to visit museums, galleries, shops or theatres. I usually return home thinking that I'd enjoyed the day, but couldn't bear the hustle and bustle for a longer period. Now I saw another side of the city. I could imagine two young writers being happy and inspired here. Come to think of it, each of the two places in which Plath has lived that I've visited - this part of London and Court Green - has been very different from my expectation. Court Green, which I'd envisaged as a rural idyll was in fact rather bleak - in February at least - whereas this area that I'd expected to be noisy and busy was just the opposite.

In biographies I've read, the flat at no. 3 is described as tiny: a lounge, a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen on the second floor (or the third if you use the American system).

23 Fitzroy Road

I spent about forty-five minutes there. For part of the time I sat in the car relaxing and reading, and I also walked around the square, looked at the house and took photos. I walked round to Fitzroy Road too. I took a couple of photos. The place was covered in scaffolding. Of course it is the place in which she died and in which she wrote her final poems. I didn't really connect with it. The road was busy and the atmosphere felt different from that of Chalcot Square. I soon walked back to the car.

I drove to the Southbank Centre, where the reading was taking place at Royal Festival Hall. The relaxed atmosphere outside the hall seemed to mirror that of Chalcot Square, and seemed perfect for the occasion.