The Perils of Insanity

I finished off Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar this morning. An excellent book, beautifully written, and disturbingly easy to identify with at times. But then, as you read the book and become more involved in the plot, Esther's slip into insanity seems effortless, which is decisively unsettling at times. Her logic never loses its air of sureness, never loses its intrinsic logic. Which, all in all, made the book decisively depressing, especially after I found out Sylvia Plath had committed suicide to prevent her own "bell jar" from returning.

Next up: continued Nietzsche, and perhaps some Sun Tzu.