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You bring up a lot of interesting questions here about Plath's work as an artist and identity as a mother/wife. Tough questions! The way you frame the idea of letter writing is also useful...she at once becomes more human and universally relatable but also supremely unique in the way here art came from experience. It's a sad story and here we can see that while Hughes was clearly a terrible part of her life much of the time, Plath was perhaps also her own worst enemy at times. Her poetry, ironically, feels so nurturing and healing even when she talks of difficulties and even trauma. Even my high school students loved her work for this reason...I think the realness of it all is something deep within us that she's not afraid of capturing. Also - I love handwritten letters. Why does it feel so hard to find the time to write them 'these days'? Thanks for a great investigation and reflection, Kate.

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