Al Alvarez writing for the Observer:
In the bad autumn months that followed, when she was coming up from Devon to go flat-hunting in London, she used to drop by my studio near Primrose Hill. I would pour her a drink and she would settle cross-legged on the floor in front of the stove and read me her new poems. I no longer remember how many visits she made - three or four at most - but it was enough for me to hear a fair proportion of the poems that went into Ariel and recognise that what I was listening to was new and extraordinary.
Ted, Sylvia and me
"In a uniquely intimate portrait of Sylvia Plath, The Observer's former poetry editor recalls being her confidant and mentor and tells of the strange experience of seeing himself portrayed in the new film of her life"
Ossian
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