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"But Now You're Dead": The Never-Before-Seen Ted Hughes Poem
"In a final coda to one of literature's great doomed romances, a previously unseen poem by Ted Hughes was published Thursday in which he describes the dark last days leading up to Sylvia Plath's suicide." And here's a dramatic reading!
Jim Behrle recently changed his name to American Poetry.
That is BRILLIANT and if Ted didn't write that, he should have. But why isn't Jim — if that's Jim — wearing a shirt? Was it hot out?
He's okay, but he's no Jim Morrison.
You only say that 'cause the camera didn't pan down far enough.
Oh, you mean Hughes.
Can't wait for Ted Theodore Hughes' accounts of his meeting with So-crates.
This should work up the Sylvia Plath maenads into a lather. Maybe they can all stick their heads into a collective oven in a show of solidarity.
God, I'm bitter.
Ted?
Is that different than a convection oven?
I hear heads exploding all over the Seven Sisters colleges, in dorm rooms and English Deparments. Not too many left to put in an oven.
Amazing.
Ben McPhall FTW
He's good, but think of what Franco could have done with it.
By the way, where the hell was that filmed?
Oh, The Awl. Just when I was about to give up on you for good, you reel me back in something as wonderful as this.
*with. Oh, what's the use of the approval of an obvious illiterate?
(did I accidentally just quote Sylvia Plath's last thoughts? Perhaps)
This one time, Ted Hughes wrote me a poem asking me to help him find his ass, but he wrote "as." And I was all, "Dude, I don't know where your as is. Maybe it's in the oven with your wife?"
One time, Ted Hughes wrote to ask me if I knew anything about Ass Purger's Syndrome. I filed a restraining order.
That totally reminds me of the time Ted called me up and asked me if I knew any Shakespearean ass puns and I said, "You bet Judas I do." And he said, "What are they?" And I yelled, "No wonder your wife killed herself, you're too stupid to live, but too stupid to know it. Ass! hole!"
Sylvia Plath, being an American, couldn't be Poet Laureate – of England anyway which I assume is what "Ted" is referring to.
Yes, I am totally missing the real point of everything.
We got a poet laureate here, too. Right now it's W. S. Merwin.
Oh, and knowing who Sylvia Plath was got me laid once. So I'll always like her for that.
Ted?
Talk about easy.
HA!
Honey, back in the 70's you wouldn't have copped a feel under the table if you hadn't known who Sylvia Plath was.
I hate the way it leaves you wondering if he ever found those darn brown shoes. "DID YOU CHECK UNDER THE BED." Oh right, he's dead too.
This is great.
This is awesome.
Assia Wevill gets bupkis. Again.
Offing the kid too was against International Poetry Olympic rules of fair play.
And her work was derivative.
FREE TED HUGHES
Classless from start to finish. This is a dick move. I'm disappointed in you, Awl.