Odd to have this story appear. I was Susan Weller's husband. Susan was Sylvia's roommate at Smith. We married in 1960 and lived in Berkeley California until 1963 after Sylvia died. I only met Ted and Sylvia twice. Ted in Berkeley when he came with the poet Gunn and in England when Susan attended a Gaudy at Somerville College in 1962. Susan was the first woman Marshal scholar graduating from Somerville with a PPE. We stayed several days with them in Devon. The children were young the girl 2 and baby boy about sux months.
Thank you, George, for your very interesting comment, very glad you came across my article by chance. How fascinating to hear about your memories of that time, and that Susan was the first female Marshall scholar. It sounds like a memorable occasion when you both visited Sylvia and Ted in Devon.
Trouble with the wedding picture is that they are 2 photos, not a portrait of them together. There was no Photoshop at that time. Combing photos was a process, not an art. Photographers and labs did what they could. Ted Hughes has a big face, but If I 'd been on the job, I'd have reduced Ted's photo a bit to fit with Sylvia's in more pleasing proportion. As it is, doesn't take much to see the storm clouds ahead of them. On another note: good writing on an interesting back-story, thanks.
Well, that's why they went to a photographic studio six months later (Plath wearing the same outfit.) Not traditional wedding photos, it's true - sorry to disappoint.
This post is sensitive and brilliant. It indirectly and subtly raises the conflict between art and life or art and family which seems somewhat contained in the conservative photos Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath never liked. A bad conventional photo can seem like a diminution of life or the creative spark. Coupled with the unpleasant realization that poetic art is never monetarily well compensated unless very cleverly packaged. If there are two poets, their individual brilliance can easily create conflicts within maintaining a strong and loving family dynamic. It's very subtle yet so clear. Thank you. An idea. Maybe collect your best posts into a book with whatever title and theme you like and it could be the first of several volumes. Or maybe Substack is considering putting together a publishing imprint. Your literary post collection book would be an awesome addition to their inaugural list.
Larry, your comment is so wonderful and insightful - and I can't believe I have only just now found it. Thank you so much, and for all your generous encouragement over these past few months. I would love to write a book and who knows, Substack might go down that route one of these days (Granta in the UK is now publishing books based on their essays).
You're welcome. Congrats on your first anniversary at Substack. Your level of accomplishment will probably double just like when one is one, one doubles when they reach two. The essay on the conventional photographs of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes was so clear in pointing out whatever the counter opposed dualities of their life together must have been. Happiness and sadness. Dull boredom and brilliant inspiration. Feminine poet and masculine poet when in a patriarchal society, the high betting is all on high success for the men and very little if any on the women. And women have to do twice as much or more to reach the same level. I have another idea💡. Maybe research the authors whose essays have earned them a book contract with Granta. If they are all men, research them and see who leans towards rather than away from supporting women writers. Then look through their books to see who their agent is in the acknowledgments. Although women are so much better at acknowledgments than men. Maybe compile your first book with an intro and a going forward afterward. Then send this agent a query in the proper format asking if they would like to look at the first 10 pages of your book. Knowing that they may not get back to you very quickly but you're reaching out. You've thrown a message in a bottle out on the sea so some literary agent walking along the beach can pick it up. It's an idea. Also consider academic publishers and authors they publish and who was the literary agent. The whole traditional publishing gatekeeper world can seem very intimidating but sometimes you might meet the right person at the right time. Being optimistic might be considered foolhardy but only until it after it pays off. I notice that Madeleine Milburn is considered a foremost feminist literary agent in the UK. Maybe find out what her query letter requirements are and send one off to her. Keep busy and don't think about it. You never know. She writes at her site, "I really do surprise myself by what I fall in love with though, so the best thing to do is query me even if your book falls outside of these guidelines. I love championing new writers" Here's hoping a book publishing contract comes your way within your second year.
Thanks, Nick. He was at Coleridge Community College when it was still a boys' school. He sounds like a pretty inspiring teacher (as I'm sure you were too):
'[Ted Hughes] accepted a position teaching English at the Coleridge Secondary Modern School for Boys in Cambridge. The students’ poor test scores had kept them out of the more academic grammar schools; many would leave before graduation to work in the trades. Hughes had grown up with similar working- class boys, and he tried hard to inspire them. He read them W. H. Auden and Robert Frost, assigned poetry-writing exercises and World War II history readings, and asked them to close their eyes while he told stories.' (Heather Clark, Red Comet, p.36)
I am mortified to somehow just be seeing this, Ann! What an extraordinary piece of writing, one I'm honored to have played a small part in. Also, I am riveted by these weird wedding portraits and always have been, and undyingly fascinated with The Silent Woman, in all its forms. I spent a lot of time in Malcolm's papers at Emory, and Yale. I would love to speak more about it with you, sometime. Cheers!
I was saving these two posts until I had time to read them properly and found them fascinating reading. The photographs are certainly very unflattering and Sylvia, in particular, looks very ill at ease. I have still to read "Red Comet" and the upcoming work sounds compelling reading too.
Thank you Deborah, it's striking how both of them look so awkward, as if being forced to pose at gunpoint... it seems that Sylvia was trying hard to please her mother by having the photographs done, but she definitely wasn't comfortable with it. Shame no photos have emerged of the Bloomsday wedding! Yes, I'm looking forward to Emily's book very much.
Fascinating reading, thanks so much for reposting Ann!
Really fascinating Ann.
Odd to have this story appear. I was Susan Weller's husband. Susan was Sylvia's roommate at Smith. We married in 1960 and lived in Berkeley California until 1963 after Sylvia died. I only met Ted and Sylvia twice. Ted in Berkeley when he came with the poet Gunn and in England when Susan attended a Gaudy at Somerville College in 1962. Susan was the first woman Marshal scholar graduating from Somerville with a PPE. We stayed several days with them in Devon. The children were young the girl 2 and baby boy about sux months.
Thank you, George, for your very interesting comment, very glad you came across my article by chance. How fascinating to hear about your memories of that time, and that Susan was the first female Marshall scholar. It sounds like a memorable occasion when you both visited Sylvia and Ted in Devon.
One slight correction: the Lilly Library is at Indiana University, in Bloomington, Indiana, not Bloomington University.
Trouble with the wedding picture is that they are 2 photos, not a portrait of them together. There was no Photoshop at that time. Combing photos was a process, not an art. Photographers and labs did what they could. Ted Hughes has a big face, but If I 'd been on the job, I'd have reduced Ted's photo a bit to fit with Sylvia's in more pleasing proportion. As it is, doesn't take much to see the storm clouds ahead of them. On another note: good writing on an interesting back-story, thanks.
Many thanks, Naomi!
I wanted to see wedding photos!!!
Well, that's why they went to a photographic studio six months later (Plath wearing the same outfit.) Not traditional wedding photos, it's true - sorry to disappoint.
This post is sensitive and brilliant. It indirectly and subtly raises the conflict between art and life or art and family which seems somewhat contained in the conservative photos Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath never liked. A bad conventional photo can seem like a diminution of life or the creative spark. Coupled with the unpleasant realization that poetic art is never monetarily well compensated unless very cleverly packaged. If there are two poets, their individual brilliance can easily create conflicts within maintaining a strong and loving family dynamic. It's very subtle yet so clear. Thank you. An idea. Maybe collect your best posts into a book with whatever title and theme you like and it could be the first of several volumes. Or maybe Substack is considering putting together a publishing imprint. Your literary post collection book would be an awesome addition to their inaugural list.
Larry, your comment is so wonderful and insightful - and I can't believe I have only just now found it. Thank you so much, and for all your generous encouragement over these past few months. I would love to write a book and who knows, Substack might go down that route one of these days (Granta in the UK is now publishing books based on their essays).
Ann,
You're welcome. Congrats on your first anniversary at Substack. Your level of accomplishment will probably double just like when one is one, one doubles when they reach two. The essay on the conventional photographs of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes was so clear in pointing out whatever the counter opposed dualities of their life together must have been. Happiness and sadness. Dull boredom and brilliant inspiration. Feminine poet and masculine poet when in a patriarchal society, the high betting is all on high success for the men and very little if any on the women. And women have to do twice as much or more to reach the same level. I have another idea💡. Maybe research the authors whose essays have earned them a book contract with Granta. If they are all men, research them and see who leans towards rather than away from supporting women writers. Then look through their books to see who their agent is in the acknowledgments. Although women are so much better at acknowledgments than men. Maybe compile your first book with an intro and a going forward afterward. Then send this agent a query in the proper format asking if they would like to look at the first 10 pages of your book. Knowing that they may not get back to you very quickly but you're reaching out. You've thrown a message in a bottle out on the sea so some literary agent walking along the beach can pick it up. It's an idea. Also consider academic publishers and authors they publish and who was the literary agent. The whole traditional publishing gatekeeper world can seem very intimidating but sometimes you might meet the right person at the right time. Being optimistic might be considered foolhardy but only until it after it pays off. I notice that Madeleine Milburn is considered a foremost feminist literary agent in the UK. Maybe find out what her query letter requirements are and send one off to her. Keep busy and don't think about it. You never know. She writes at her site, "I really do surprise myself by what I fall in love with though, so the best thing to do is query me even if your book falls outside of these guidelines. I love championing new writers" Here's hoping a book publishing contract comes your way within your second year.
Larry B.
Ann, check out Dimbleby's new book Endgame re World War Two. Might be up your alley^^
War happens in many places including between men and woman in love. Sadly in many cases the next stop on the line is hatred^^
These two posts were so interesting. Do you know where Hughes taught? (I taught at Parkside for a couple of years.)
Thanks, Nick. He was at Coleridge Community College when it was still a boys' school. He sounds like a pretty inspiring teacher (as I'm sure you were too):
'[Ted Hughes] accepted a position teaching English at the Coleridge Secondary Modern School for Boys in Cambridge. The students’ poor test scores had kept them out of the more academic grammar schools; many would leave before graduation to work in the trades. Hughes had grown up with similar working- class boys, and he tried hard to inspire them. He read them W. H. Auden and Robert Frost, assigned poetry-writing exercises and World War II history readings, and asked them to close their eyes while he told stories.' (Heather Clark, Red Comet, p.36)
Ah, I didn't know. Thank you.
What a fascinating essay, Ann, thank you. We don’t live too far from Plath’s final resting place, and my brother was there just yesterday.
Thanks Victoria, I'd love to visit your part of the world (preferably in fine weather!) and go walking.
In fine weather… you may need to leave it a while then… ☔️
I can wait! Need to train myself up for hill walking (Cambridge is soooo flat).
Ah! the coming train wreck^^
Yes, it is poignant indeed.
I am mortified to somehow just be seeing this, Ann! What an extraordinary piece of writing, one I'm honored to have played a small part in. Also, I am riveted by these weird wedding portraits and always have been, and undyingly fascinated with The Silent Woman, in all its forms. I spent a lot of time in Malcolm's papers at Emory, and Yale. I would love to speak more about it with you, sometime. Cheers!
This is fascinating! Looking forward to reading more on the topic - I’ve just ordered “Red Comet” !
Thanks Amy - I enjoyed Red Comet very much - it's one of those biographies that are as engrossing as a novel, a bit like Claire Tomalin's.
I was saving these two posts until I had time to read them properly and found them fascinating reading. The photographs are certainly very unflattering and Sylvia, in particular, looks very ill at ease. I have still to read "Red Comet" and the upcoming work sounds compelling reading too.
Thank you Deborah, it's striking how both of them look so awkward, as if being forced to pose at gunpoint... it seems that Sylvia was trying hard to please her mother by having the photographs done, but she definitely wasn't comfortable with it. Shame no photos have emerged of the Bloomsday wedding! Yes, I'm looking forward to Emily's book very much.