I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Reklam
Bunu okuduğumda kafamda fig tree analogy ile bir bütün oldular.
Benim hayatımın amacı ne ve onunla ne halt edeceğim? Bilmiyorum ve korkuyorum. Asla istediğim bütün kitapları okuyamayacağım; olmak istediğim bütün insanlar olamayacağım ve yaşamak istediğim bütün hayatları yaşayamayacağım. Kendimi istediğim bütün becerileri edinecek kadar eğitemeyeceğim. Bunları neden istiyorum? Hayatımda mümkün olan zihinsel ve fiziksel tecrübelerin tüm renklerini, tonlarını ve çeşitlerini tatmak ve hissetmek istiyorum. Ve korkunç derecede sınırlıyım
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. [...] I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."
"I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig-tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet"
For Sylvia Plath, existence was a fig tree and each possible life she could live - the happily-married one, the successful-poet one - was this sweet juicy fig, but she couldn't get to taste the sweet juicy figs and so they just rotted right in front of her. It can drive you insane, thinking of all the other lives we don't live.
Reklam
Reklam