Lady Lazarus

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it—

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?—

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is number three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand and foot—
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I’ve a call.

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.
It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.
It’s the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

‘A miracle!’
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart—
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

Unveiling “Lady Lazarus”: A Deep Dive into Sylvia Plath’s Powerful Poem

Sylvia Plath’s “Lady Lazarus” stands as a monumental work in twentieth-century poetry, a searing dramatic monologue that continues to captivate and challenge readers. Published posthumously in her collection Ariel in 1965, this poem offers an unflinching exploration of suffering, survival, and the reclamation of power. Through its vivid imagery and defiant voice, “Lady Lazarus” delves into themes of death, resurrection, identity, and the societal gaze, making it a crucial text for understanding modern poetry and its profound impact.

Understanding “Lady Lazarus”: Summary and Core Ideas

To truly appreciate the depth of “Lady Lazarus,” a clear understanding of its narrative and central message is essential. This section provides a concise summary and highlights the poem’s core concepts.

What is “Lady Lazarus” About?

“Lady Lazarus” presents a speaker who has repeatedly experienced near-death situations, framing these events not as failures, but as deliberate, theatrical performances. The speaker, identifying with the biblical figure Lazarus who was raised from the dead, describes her resurrections as a spectacle for a voyeuristic audience. The poem charts her journey through these repeated “deaths” and “returns,” transforming her personal anguish into a public display. It is a raw and intense exploration of suicidal ideation, but more profoundly, it is a fierce assertion of agency and defiance against those who would consume or control her suffering.

The Central Idea of the Poem

The central idea of “Lady Lazarus” revolves around the speaker’s defiant reclamation of her own narrative and power, even through the harrowing experiences of repeated self-destruction. The poem argues that suffering, when transformed into a performance, can become a source of strength and rebellion. The speaker refuses to be merely a victim; instead, she becomes a performer, a spectacle, and ultimately, a formidable force. This transformation challenges the audience to confront their own complicity in the commodification of pain and the societal pressures that contribute to despair. The poem culminates in a powerful declaration of rebirth and vengeance, suggesting that from the ashes of oppression, a new, formidable self can emerge.

Noteworthy Aspects of “Lady Lazarus”

“Lady Lazarus” is a prime example of confessional poetry, a style characterized by its direct, often autobiographical, exploration of personal experiences, emotions, and trauma. The poem’s intense emotional honesty and its focus on the speaker’s inner turmoil are hallmarks of this genre. Furthermore, its structure as a dramatic monologue allows the speaker to address an implied audience directly, drawing readers into her world and forcing them to confront her accusations and challenges. The poem’s use of shocking and provocative imagery also ensures its lasting impact and memorability.

In-Depth Analysis of “Lady Lazarus”: Exploring Poetic Craft and Meaning

A closer examination of “Lady Lazarus” reveals the intricate layers of meaning woven into its structure and language. This analysis delves into key sections, highlighting how Plath employs poetic devices to convey the poem’s powerful messages.

The Repeated Return: Performance and Survival (Stanzas 1-6)

The poem opens with a chillingly casual declaration, “I have done it again.” This immediate statement establishes a pattern of repeated attempts at self-harm, presented not as a secret, but as a recurring event. The speaker immediately casts herself as “A sort of walking miracle,” a phrase laden with irony, as her “miracle” is her ability to survive self-inflicted trauma. The imagery quickly becomes disturbing and provocative, drawing on historical atrocities to describe her physical state:

my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.

These lines are designed to shock, equating her dehumanized state with the victims of the Holocaust, suggesting an extreme level of suffering and objectification. The speaker then directly addresses an unseen antagonist, “O my enemy,” and poses a rhetorical question, “Do I terrify?” This immediately establishes a confrontational tone, challenging the audience to react to her grotesque appearance. The description of her decaying body, “The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?” and the promise that “The sour breath will vanish in a day,” underscores the transient nature of her physical suffering, hinting at a deeper, more enduring pain or defiance.

The Spectacle of Suffering: Commodification and Objectification (Stanzas 7-12)

As the poem progresses, the speaker explicitly frames her experiences as a public spectacle. She reveals her age, “I am only thirty,” and then makes a crucial comparison: “And like the cat I have nine times to die.” This simile highlights her resilience and the repeated nature of her near-death experiences. She dismisses her past attempts as “What a trash / To annihilate each decade,” suggesting a weariness with the cycle. The audience is then introduced:

The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot—
The big strip tease.

This powerful metaphor of a “strip tease” vividly portrays the voyeuristic nature of the crowd, reducing her suffering to a form of entertainment. Her body parts are exposed for public consumption, “These are my hands / My knees,” yet she asserts her fundamental identity: “Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.” She recounts her first two attempts, one an “accident” at ten, the second a deliberate act where she “meant / To last it out and not come back at all.” The imagery of her being “rocked shut / As a seashell” and the grotesque detail of others having to “pick the worms off me like sticky pearls” emphasizes the profound isolation and violation she experienced. The speaker then makes a chilling declaration:

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

This ironic statement transforms her suffering into a skill, a craft she has mastered, further asserting her control over her own narrative and challenging societal norms around death and despair.

The Resurrected Self: Defiance and Rebirth (Stanzas 13-18)

The latter half of the poem focuses on the speaker’s “theatrical Comeback” and her ultimate transformation. She describes her return to life as a performance, met with an “amused shout: / ‘A miracle!’” This reaction, however, “knocks me out,” indicating her exhaustion with the public’s superficial understanding of her pain. The poem then introduces the concept of commodification:

There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart—
It really goes.

The repetition of “There is a charge” underscores how her suffering is monetized and exploited by others. Every aspect of her being, from her scars to her very breath, has a price. She addresses figures of authority, “So, so, Herr Doktor. / So, Herr Enemy,” implying that these individuals, perhaps representing patriarchal society or medical institutions, are complicit in her suffering and its exploitation. She declares herself their creation, their “opus,” their “valuable,” a “pure gold baby / That melts to a shriek.” This imagery suggests that while she may be perceived as precious, her true experience is one of agonizing transformation. The final stanzas are a powerful assertion of ultimate rebirth and vengeance. The imagery of “Ash, ash— / You poke and stir. / Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—” depicts complete annihilation, yet from this destruction, a new entity emerges. The concluding lines are among the most famous and potent in modern poetry:

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

This transformation into a phoenix-like figure, rising from the ashes, signifies not just survival, but a powerful, vengeful rebirth. The final line, with its chilling declaration, asserts a formidable, almost monstrous, agency, turning the tables on her former tormentors and consuming them with the same ease that they consumed her suffering.

Literary and Poetic Devices in “Lady Lazarus”

Sylvia Plath’s masterful use of literary and poetic devices is central to the enduring power and impact of “Lady Lazarus.” Understanding these techniques unlocks deeper layers of meaning within the poem.

• Allusion: The most prominent allusion is to Lazarus from the biblical New Testament, whom Jesus raised from the dead. This comparison immediately establishes the theme of resurrection and miraculous return from death. However, Plath subverts this, as her speaker’s resurrections are not divine miracles but rather painful, repeated acts. The poem also contains chilling allusions to the Holocaust with phrases like “Nazi lampshade” and “Jew linen,” equating the speaker’s personal suffering and dehumanization with the systematic atrocities of that historical event.
• Metaphor and Simile: Plath employs vivid comparisons to create striking imagery and convey complex ideas.
  • Metaphor: The speaker calls herself “A sort of walking miracle,” transforming her repeated survival into a paradoxical wonder. She also declares, “I am your opus, / I am your valuable, / The pure gold baby,” metaphorically presenting herself as a prized possession or creation of her oppressors.
  • Simile: Her skin is described as “Bright as a Nazi lampshade,” a deeply disturbing comparison that links her physical state to extreme suffering. She states, “And like the cat I have nine times to die,” likening her resilience to a cat’s proverbial nine lives. Her being “rocked shut / As a seashell” conveys a sense of protective closure, while the worms picked off her are “like sticky pearls,” transforming the grotesque into something ironically precious.
• Imagery: The poem is rich with visceral and often unsettling imagery that appeals to the senses and evokes strong emotional responses.
  • Visual imagery: “Bright as a Nazi lampshade,” “Jew linen,” “the nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth,” “red hair,” all create vivid, often disturbing, pictures in the reader’s mind.
  • Tactile imagery: “sticky pearls” and the feeling of being “unwrapped hand and foot” engage the sense of touch.
  • Auditory imagery: The “peanut-crunching crowd,” the “amused shout: ‘A miracle!’” and the “shriek” of the melting baby all contribute to the poem’s soundscape.
• Tone: The poem’s tone is complex and shifts, but is predominantly sardonic, defiant, bitter, and theatrical. The speaker’s casual declaration of “I have done it again” sets an ironic, almost flippant, tone that masks deep pain. Her challenges to the audience, “Do I terrify?” and her assertion that “Dying / Is an art,” demonstrate her defiance and control over her narrative.
• Anaphora and Repetition: The deliberate repetition of words or phrases at the beginning of successive clauses or lines emphasizes certain ideas.
  • Anaphora: The repeated phrase “There is a charge / For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge / For the hearing of my heart” powerfully highlights the commodification of her suffering.
  • Repetition: The repeated “So, so, Herr Doktor. / So, Herr Enemy” and “Ash, ash—” and “Beware / Beware” build intensity and underscore the speaker’s accusations and warnings.
• Irony: The poem is steeped in irony, particularly in the speaker’s self-portrayal. Calling herself a “walking miracle” despite her self-destructive acts is deeply ironic. Her assertion that “Dying / Is an art” is another example, transforming a tragic act into a skill, thereby reclaiming agency.
• Dramatic Monologue: The entire poem functions as a dramatic monologue, where a single speaker addresses an implied audience, revealing their character and situation. This device allows for an intimate, yet controlled, exploration of the speaker’s psyche and her relationship with the world.
• Symbolism:
  • Lazarus: Symbolizes resurrection and a return from the dead, but in the poem, it is a forced, public, and painful return.
  • Phoenix: The final image of rising “Out of the ash” symbolizes powerful rebirth, transformation, and vengeance.
  • Ash: Represents complete destruction, annihilation, and the remnants of what was.
  • Red Hair: Often associated with passion, fire, and a fierce, untamed nature, symbolizing the speaker’s renewed, powerful identity.
• Enjambment and Caesura: Plath skillfully manipulates line breaks and pauses to control the poem’s pace and emphasize certain words or phrases.
  • Enjambment: Lines like “my skin / Bright as a Nazi lampshade” create a sense of continuous thought, pulling the reader quickly from one line to the next, often for a shocking reveal.
  • Caesura: Internal pauses, often indicated by punctuation, as in “Ash, ash— / You poke and stir. / Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—” create a fragmented, halting rhythm that mirrors the speaker’s fractured state or emphasizes the starkness of the imagery.
• Rhetorical Questions: The speaker directly engages the audience with questions like “Do I terrify?” These questions are not meant to be answered but rather to provoke thought and challenge the listener’s perspective.

The Enduring Legacy of “Lady Lazarus”

“Lady Lazarus” remains one of Sylvia Plath’s most enduring and discussed poems, a testament to its raw power and profound insights. It challenges readers to look beyond the surface of suffering, to question the societal forces that contribute to despair, and to recognize the fierce strength that can emerge from the depths of trauma. The poem’s unforgettable imagery, its defiant voice, and its complex exploration of identity, performance, and power ensure its place as a cornerstone of modern literature. It continues to resonate with audiences, inviting reflection on resilience, the human spirit’s capacity for transformation, and the enduring quest for agency in a world that often seeks to diminish it.