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Giving Up: The Last Days of Sylvia Plath

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If you're interested enough in the life of Sylvia Plath-the life she mined so deeply and painfully in her unforgettable poems-to read more than one of the many biographies in print about her, I think this book, though obviously very slim-is a worthy addition to the reams of prose and supplementary material about Plath. And it is a *supplement*, not exactly a complete book in its own right. Not that there's anything wrong with that: Ms. Becker is a very different, very individual voice among the others who knew Sylvia, very much her own person-another writer, another mother, not a genius, but definitely a friend-and frankly, the sort of friend Plath desperately needed, and one we'd all be well-off to be able to turn to in despair, as Sylvia famously(well, it's famous *now*)did in the last days of her life. Some of the observations here, never repeated anywhere else, are indeed "haunting": the wearying task of sitting up all night with an emotionally disturbed girlfriend, at wit's end about exactly what to do; the unsettling visit of Becker to Plath's apartment to fetch neccessary items, finding the place eerily clean and apparently empty of children's clothes(Plath had two toddlers); the abrupt changes in Plath's moods, the memory of Sylvia, dressed to the nines, about to go out on the next-to-last evening of her life for a mysterious "date"(with her husband? with another suitor? We'll never know)stopping at the door to smile down at her baby son and tell him warmly, "I love you"-these are the sorts of observations that could come firsthand from only an intimate, if not a longterm friend. The memories regarding Ted Hughes' behaviour after Plath's suicide are something else again-quite a shock, and also quite believeable. You won't find much of that elswhere, either.

The thing about Plath memoirs and writings is that all of them seem to offer little pieces of the massive puzzle that was the poet and the woman. This is one more small piece that I'm very grateful was published.

A measured and moving account of Sylvia Plath's final hours, as well as a keen portrait of Ted Hughes's egotism and denial. Jillian Becker proves herself a loyal yet honest friend, even though her relationship with Plath was brief. I've already read this slim book twice. I find it haunting.

Best line: "Just as kindness is inadequate, and beauty hard to bear, happiness itself can be intolerable."

In Jillian Becker's Giving Up, she revisits the last moments she spent with her friend, Sylvia Plath. Her memories are solid at times and shaky at others, but she is quick to note when she doesn't recall an event in detail. Giving Up is only 73 pages and I read it in under an hour. Still, Becker's words resonate with the time and thought it took her to get to a point where she can write about her friend from the perspective of someone who shared her last moments. Becker mentions other Plath biographers who asked her to tell them her story, but apparently none did it to her satisfaction or with the degree of accuracy she felt was necessary, causing her to write this little book. As someone who is fascinated with the legend that Sylvia Plath's life and death has become, this book was fulfilling and full of useful information. However, it's not a novel, and Becker's views are definitely skewed to paint Ted Hughes as the bad guy in their marriage as well as the ultimate cause of Plath's untimely death (not a new notion, by any means, but I haven't seen it written before with such malice). That being said, I did think this book was worthwhile for anyone who likes Sylvia Plath and is fascinated by the mystery surrounding her life and death.

I've read plenty of books about the late Sylvia Plath and her tumultuous relationship with poet Ted Hughes. This book may not be a necessity to my library, but I don't regret having bought it. Becker provides some interesting, insightful remarks on Plath's last days. She paints a dead-on portrait of the despair and emotional trauma Plath was suffering during their last meeting. One line in particular that stands out is when Becker remarks on Plath's priorities being off-kilter, claiming that she was a writer first and a mother next. As harsh as it struck me at first, it actually helped me to realize that Becker is not only writing from a sentimental standpoint, but from the "one who has been left behind" perspective as well. She makes no apologies. Did Sylvia commit suicide because she was confident her death would make her a legend? It would seem that she did possess such confidence. Becker seems to think so as well. But this isn't the overriding message of the book. Jillian Becker misses her friend, a woman who never laughed in her company but reached out to her in the end. Neither held on tight enough.

While everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I do find most reviewers glean the wrong thing from this book. Jillian Becker KNEW Sylvia Plath, knew her personally-- went to her home, gathered her belongings, allowed Plath to stay in her home, she even took care of Plath's children when Sylvia could not find the will to do so herself.

Another thing people misunderstand is the notion of suicide. If you are looking for the answer to WHY..the big WHY she "did it" then you have very little understanding of Sylvia herself, depression, and suicide. This book is not going to tie up any loose ends or give anyone anything they didn't have before--that's not what it's supposed to do...
It's a way of filling in the gaps; where the previous biographers, journalists, reporters, only knew the Plath they saw, spoke to, -- that which was reflected in her poetry -- no one really knew her like a good old friend, a friend that Jillian Becker was.

Beware: Becker is very honest, which is a good thing but some may not view it as such.

The book is very short, and rightfully so. Only a small amount of time (I believe it's 3 days or so) is covered here, and that's perfect. The back cover of the book contains a review from "The Independent" (London) which puts it perfectly: "Jillian Becker fits in more good sense and compassion on the subject of Sylvia Plath than books ten times as long."

The fact that this book is small and doesn't answer a lot of the basic background questions as to how they knew each other or who Jillian Becker is is part of the appeal. It's about Sylvia's last days on earth, not a history lesson of who is who and how they got wherever. I really enjoyed how this was written. Very detached, observant, detailed. Even the descriptions of the food Jillian made for Sylvia and her kids were unexpectedly interesting. We may not learn from this book the big Why but that isn't the goal. We all know how it ends. No one for sure can say exactly what it was that pushed her over the edge. We get a glimpse through an open window into her last days and it is on the one hand, fascinating and on the other, terribly sad. If this book had been 300 pages, it never would have worked. There's already too much writing about Sylvia's life. This works so well because it covers three days. The darkest three days of her life.

One of the most fascinating aspects of Plath's literary and personal mythology is the need for so many others to give voice and interpretation to a highly educated, highly vocal woman who muted herself. Becker joins the ranks of numerous scholars and critics by putting in her analysis as a friend and admirer of Sylvia. Still, I fail to see how Becker delivered much of worth.

Do we really need this book? No. Did I get it because of my morbid fascination with the lost last days that Hughes relegated to assumption because he burned her final diary entries? Yes. Am I satisfied? By no means.

I agree with several other reviewers who stated this could have better had it been relegated to essay or article format. The book is quite short, especially on the final days of Sylvia Plath's life. It is skimmed over so quickly, with little recollection of actual events that the reader is left with the haunting mood Plath left Becker with on that final night. After these several inadequate pages, Becker explains her thoughts on the funeral (something I had never read about). And then we are taken through a long redundant explanation of how no one could help Sylvia, and Hughes should assume his responsibility for what happened.

Becker brings in a couple of Hughes and Plath's poems to aid her in explaining how she came to some of her conclusions about their relationship. And then Becker delves into which of the two was an anti-Semite(?!). She ends the book with how ironic it was that the feminist movement appropriated Plath as the eternal victim of male aggression and oppression, when in fact Becker thought of her as happy in her feminine roles (she does contradict this point in the text). One interesting line was how Sylvia did not like her name pronounced to rhyme with "math," it should have been pronounced "Plaath."

Maybe I expected too much from such a slim volume. But I think Becker mislead her readers as well. I recommend this only for fans of Sylvia Plath that must read it all--regardless of how good/bad, positive/negative a book may be. Read Sylvia Plath's poetry and prose for a truly rewarding read, her own words serve her best.

What happened with this book? As other reviewers have noted, it is very slight -- less than 100 pages, almost pocket-book size.
The author never tells us exactly how she first became acquainted with Sylvia Plath and her husband Ted Hughes, and it would have been interesting to know how this striking and charismatic literary couple impressed her.
There's no context for her own part in the story -- what was Becker doing at that time? Had she begun to write professionally? She mentions giving up the notion of writing poetry when humbled by her reading of the work Plath showed her, but doesn't tell us much about her own ambitions, milieu or activities. Becker's husband Gerry plays an important role in the narrative, helping to take care of Plath, even driving her home on the night of her suicide, but we aren't told whether he too was a writer, artist or other brand of intellectual, nor whether the Beckers stayed married nor if he is even still living.
There is some unforgettable new material in Becker's account of the gathering in a pub after Plath's burial, which puts Ted Hughes in a bad light -- interesting, considering the recent rehabilitation of his reputation vis-a-vis Plath in Diane Middlebrook's "Her Husband" and Elaine Feinstein's biography of Hughes.
Unfortunately, Becker probably waited too long to tell her own version of the last events of Plath's life. Too often, she'll say that she doesn't remember what they talked about on some occasion -- honest, but frustrating.
When I finished the book, I started paging through it again, as if I thought I would find the rest of the story this time. Becker could have given us an authoritative glimpse of the young creative people she and Plath lived among in the London of that time -- "a string of luminaries about to be switched on" is her nice phrase for them -- but she seems to have been in a hurry to get the bare facts down and to move on.
She writes that she was moved to write the memoir because some of Plath's biographers had interviewed her, then used little or nothing of what she had to tell them. Where is all that misundertood or unused material? I felt that Giving Up had the potential to be a better, fuller book, but something -- time, guilt or disinclination to the memoir genre -- got in the author's way.

This story, though interesting and yes, haunting is largely a self-serving product from an admitted poet wannabe, whom, I feel, hoped that by being associated with Sylvia Plath, some of Plath's genius would rub off on her. They were only "friends" for a very short time, and I sensed jealousy in her words regarding Plath's writing, although admittedly she did take care of her when Plath had no one else and reached out in desperation. For that she should be admired, for depression is an ugly THING that will suck the life out of the sufferer and all those around them. I just question her motives in her relationship with Plath (how did they meet? How did they bond? etc.), and in writing this book. I hear "LOOK AT ME!" loud and clear. The whole chapter regarding Hughes'perceived anti-semitism?? I understand that the author is Jewish, but how is that dissection and her offense to it relevant to Plath's story? Plath wasn't an anti-semite. THAT most of all was self-serving.("I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY! LISTEN TO ME!") It's the author's story and experience, and I get it but not much of the information contained in this very small book about a very short and who knows how close relationship is information that is not covered in the plethora of Plath biographies and such. It fulfills the morbid curiosity and I admit that is why I read it, but Sylvia Plath was SO much more than the way she died, and her death was largely all this author knew of her. I don't feel that Becker had anything of consequence to say that other biographers haven't already said on the subject. This, the world could have done without, in my opinion.

In Jillian Becker's brief (thirty-minute read) book about her friendship with the famous poet Sylvia Plath, she recounts her final days in a straightforward, brutally honest manner. Her motivation in publishing her side of the story is to tell her side of the story and set the record straight, since information she has provided to multiple sources on the topic has been largely ignored, and sometimes, suppressed. The tiny volume is a mere 73 pages short, containing only six chapters: The Last Days [those that Plath and children spent in the company of the author and her family immediately preceding her death], Remembered Conversations [things they talked about regarding poetry and Plath's ex-husband, poet Ted Hughes, who abandoned his family for another woman], The Funeral [the event and post-funeral dinner conversation], Afterward [Plath's post-death fame and information Becker provided to biographers], Slightly Filthy [Becker debunks certain portions of Hughes's poem Dreamers regarding Assia's ancestry and discusses his and Plath's poetry as relates to Judaism, anti-Semitism and the Holocaust], and Myth [Plath's feelings on feminism].

About the various players in the life (and death) of Sylvia Plath, Becker has plenty to say. Of the woman Hughes left Plath for, Assia Wevill (who also committed suicide, and murdered her daughter who was fathered by Hughes), Becker writes that she was (p 11) "vain and shallow." Hughes gets the royal treatment. He was, she claims, (p 23) "[s]elf-absorbed" and (p 72) "faithless and brutal as a Nazi." After the post-funeral meal he proclaimed about Plath, (p 44), `"Everybody hated her,"' of suicide, (p 46) "It was in her, you see..." Lastly, of his contention that (p 64) "his poetry is curative" Becker opines, (p 64, 65) "Hughes's self-exoneration is not merely pretentious twaddle, it is blasphemy..."

Jillian Becker's memoir on "the last days of Sylvia Plath" is a telling tribute of a true friend to a woman whose actions forever affected her. Great companion read: The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.