Tulips
by Sylvia Plath
The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.
Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in.
I am learning peacefulness, lying by myself quietly
As the light lies on these white walls, this bed, these hands.
I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.
I have given my name and my day-clothes to the nurses, my history to the anesthetist, and my body to surgeons.They have propped my head between the pillow and the sheet-cuff
Like an eye between two white lids that will not shut.
Stupid pupil, it must take everything in.
The nurses pass and pass; they are no trouble,
They pass the way gulls pass inland in their white caps,
Doing things with their hands, one just the same as another,
So it is impossible to tell how many there are.My body is a pebble to them, they tend it as water
Tends to the pebbles it must run over, smoothing them gently.
They bring me numbness in their bright needles, they bring me sleep.
I have lost myself; I am sick of baggage.
My patent leather overnight case like a black pillbox,
My husband and child smiling out of the family photo;
Their smiles catch onto my skin like little smiling hooks.I have let things slip, a thirty-year-old cargo boat
stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.
They have swabbed me clear of my loving associations.
Scared and bare on the green plastic-pillowed trolley
I watched my teaset, my bureaus of linen, my books
Sink out of sight, and the water went over my head.
I am a nun now, I have never been so pure.I didn’t want any flowers; I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is; you have no idea how free—the peacefulness is so big it dazes you,
And it asks for nothing but a name tag and a few trinkets.
It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet.The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me.
Even through the gift paper I could hear them breathe
Lightly, through their white swaddlings, like an awful baby.
Their redness talks to my wound, it corresponds.
They are subtle: they seem to float, though they weigh me down, upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color—a dozen red lead sinkers round my neck.Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,
And I have no face, I have wanted to efface myself.
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.Before they came the air was calm enough,
Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.
Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.
Now the air snags and eddies around them like a river snags and eddies around a sunken rust-red engine.
They concentrate my attention that was happy
Playing and resting without committing itself.The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.
The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love for me.
The water I taste is warm and salty, like the sea, and comes from a distant land of health.
Summary of Tulips
“Tulips” is a deeply personal and evocative poem by Sylvia Plath, exploring themes of illness, detachment, and the struggle for self-definition. The speaker, likely a patient recovering in a hospital, attempts to find peace in a state of complete emptiness and detachment from the outside world. She initially feels detached, but the arrival of a bouquet of red tulips disrupts this fragile peace. Their vibrant color and assertive presence become overwhelming, symbolizing life, passion, and the painful realities the speaker has been trying to escape. The poem charts her internal struggle as she grapples with the re-emergence of feeling and the difficulty of reconciling herself with existence.
At its core, “Tulips” is a powerful meditation on the desire for both oblivion and self-preservation. The speaker’s journey is one of painful awareness, ultimately suggesting the impossibility of complete detachment and the enduring strength of the human spirit.
Analysis of Literary Devices in “Tulips”
Sylvia Plath masterfully employs a range of literary devices to create the poem’s haunting atmosphere and convey the speaker’s complex emotional state. Understanding these devices is crucial to appreciating the poem’s full depth.
- Imagery: Plath’s use of vivid imagery is central to the poem’s impact. She creates a stark contrast between the sterile, white hospital environment and the vibrant, assertive red of the tulips. Notice how she describes the hospital walls, the light, and the speaker’s physical sensations. For example, “Look how white everything is, how quiet, how snowed-in” establishes the initial atmosphere of calm and detachment. Later, the tulips are described as “A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck,” demonstrating their overwhelming weight.
- Metaphor and Symbolism: The poem is rich in metaphors and symbolism. The tulips themselves are the most prominent symbol, representing life, passion, and the intrusion of reality into the speaker’s desired state of emptiness. The hospital environment symbolizes a temporary escape from the burdens of existence. The speaker’s loss of identity – giving up her “name and day-clothes” – symbolizes her desire to dissolve into nothingness.
- Personification: Plath imbues inanimate objects with human qualities. The tulips “breathe” and have “sudden tongues,” making them feel menacing and alive. “The walls, also, seem to warm themselves” adds to the poem’s unsettling atmosphere.
- Alliteration and Consonance: These sound devices create a musicality that enhances the poem’s emotional impact. For example, in “They tend to the pebbles it must run over,” the repetition of the ‘t’ and ‘r’ sounds creates a soothing effect.
Analysis of Poetic Devices in “Tulips”
Beyond literary devices, Plath’s skillful use of poetic techniques shapes the poem’s overall effect.
- Form and Structure: “Tulips” is written in free verse, meaning it does not adhere to a strict rhyme scheme or meter. This allows Plath to create a natural, conversational tone that reflects the speaker’s internal monologue. The poem is divided into nine stanzas, each contributing to the unfolding of the speaker’s thoughts and emotions.
- Enjambment: Plath frequently uses enjambment – the continuation of a sentence or phrase from one line to the next – to create a sense of flow and momentum. This technique mirrors the speaker’s stream of consciousness.
- Repetition: While not used extensively, Plath employs repetition for emphasis. For example, the repeated focus on the color red reinforces the intensity of the tulips’ impact.
- Tone and Mood: The poem’s tone is initially detached and clinical, but gradually becomes more fraught with anxiety and desperation. The mood is one of quiet unease, punctuated by moments of intense emotional turmoil.
Quotes to be Used
These lines powerfully capture the poem’s central themes and can be used to illustrate the speaker’s emotional state.
“I am nobody; I have nothing to do with explosions.” This line highlights the speaker’s desire to escape the intensity and chaos of life.
“The tulips are too excitable, it is winter here.” These opening lines establish the poem’s central conflict – the intrusion of life into a state of desired stillness.
“How free it is; you have no idea how free—the peacefulness is so big it dazes you,” demonstrates the speaker’s initial attraction to emptiness and detachment.
“A dozen red lead sinkers round my neck,” encapsulates the overwhelming weight and oppressive presence of the tulips.
By carefully analyzing the poem’s literary and poetic devices, readers can gain a deeper appreciation for Sylvia Plath’s masterful use of language and her profound exploration of the human condition. “Tulips” remains a powerful and enduring testament to the complexities of illness, identity, and the search for meaning in a chaotic world.