Sylvia Plath reads ‘Daddy’
1961 – mesmerising
But if your browser won’t let you watch the video, goto YouTube and watch it there.
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I simply know next to nothing about my work in this way, as little as a plumber of the history of hydraulics. There is nothing/nobody with me when I'm writing, only the hellish job in hand. The 'eye of the mind' in Happy Days does not refer to Yeats any more than the 'revels' in Endgame (refer) to The Tempest. They are just bits of pipe I happen to have with me. Samuel Beckett
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Lovely. Thank you!
jb says: The voice always gets me. I know the poem so well, but the voice . . . the way she delivers it.
What a voice! So many poets don’t have a clue as to delivery, but she knows exactly where to go and how. Extraordinary. And it’s fascinating how her accent is sidling bit by bit across the Atlantic. Thanks, for this, John.
jb says: Hi Dick. I thought we all deserved a little treat after the summer . . .