As an English major, I have never underestimated the ability of a good book to be truly life changing.
For many voracious readers, this book is The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. In a magnificent display of creative ability and thoughtfulness, Plath divulges the main character and protagonist’s struggles to manage ambition, success and personal relationships. As the novel continues, the reader becomes intimately familiar with the character’s thoughts, actions, sense of individualism and willingness to further discover herself.
The book is chock-full of beautifully written symbolism and fully developed themes. Perhaps one of the most poignant ones is found in the title itself.
A “bell jar” is a type of glass container used to entrap, preserve and seal its contents. The main character struggles to free herself from her own mind and wrestles with escaping her thoughts and struggles.
Another piece of symbolism comes when the main character pictures her life as a fig tree producing fruit. Figs, even outside of The Bell Jar, are symbols of fertility and feminine vitality. In Plath’s novel, each fig symbolizes a different path or aspiration the main character might follow, each carrying their own successes and struggles. The delicate, ripe fruits symbolize rich opportunity her future carries if she is to choose one path, or fig, or the other.
Around a year ago, this fabulous literary analogy took the internet by storm and quickly became a trend on TikTok and Instagram, with users creating their own hypothetical fig trees.
It’s certainly a tree of late blooms, but blooms nonetheless, and without further ado, I’d like to introduce my fig tree.
Farmer
I am a tried-and-true city girl. I was raised in Albany, New York, the state’s capital, and I would genuinely spend the rest of my life there.
The telling measure of a good city is the art. Art is everywhere in cities that are alive, are breathing. There is art on cars, on sidewalks, in coffee shops and even in people in Albany.
Despite my populated upbringing, I have always felt drawn to a farmer’s life. My only interaction with a farmer was during a brief stint as a student intern at an orthopedic surgery facility when I was allowed to inject a farmer’s knee with cortisone. He was kind, funny and overall, a seemingly good person, and he wore the evidence of grueling labor on his face and hands. Something about him was intriguing.
While maybe it seems crazy to you, I think if I really wanted to, I could certainly rise to the sound of a rooster crowing and be off to do a laundry list of chores.
New York City Effortlessly Cool Person
I am fascinated by the New York City-non-transplant residents. Like I mentioned before, a good city is full of good art, which means NYC is basically an Olympic-level city.
NYC residents are effortlessly cool and oh-so interesting, and I would die to be them. There is something alluring about walking down a street and knowing that people want to know about what you have to say without doing anything at all. I would give it all up to be a NYC Cool Person.
5:00 AM to 9:00 AM before 9:00 AM to 5:00 AM Girl
I am the least morning person ever, or, rather, I was the least morning person ever. I have been taking an 8:30 AM class for almost four months now, and while it is 100 million times more difficult than Sisyphus’ task on his worst day, it is slowly, but surely, forcing me into an early riser lifestyle.
This is mostly a necessary reaction to my incredible delusion that I have when waking up early, as I tend to convince myself I can be completely ready and walking to my car in fifteen minutes. Spoiler: I cannot.
To be a morning person to the degree that I am experiencing almost a full day before the afternoon is incredibly appealing, and to live my life fully aware of what rising every morning with the sun is like is a dream.
Lizzy Grant-esque Poet
I adore Lana Del Rey. Not only do I wholeheartedly believe that she is one of the most defining performers of our generation, but she is a poetic genius. Her poetry book, Violet Bent Backwards over the Grass, is hauntingly stunning.
Few know that Lana Del Rey used to go by Lizzy Grant. She released songs like Put Me in a Movie and Mermaid Motel under this identity. She haunted jazz clubs and small bars, making her mark on the early indie movement in New York City. She rarely performed with accompaniment to highlight the cinematic feel to and depth of her vocal talent.
While I have fallen out of practice, I love writing poetry. When applying to colleges, I was accepted to many creative writing programs on account of my poetry portfolio, one university even offering to fly me out to visit their campus.
The idea of performing under a fake identity and doing what I love scurrying around backrooms of jazz clubs sounds idyllic.
Sparkle Jump Rope Queen 2.0 might be coming your way, or at least to a really niche slam poetry spot.
A Nose
A nose, an olfactorist or fragrance tester- whatever you want to call it- is my dream career.
I’m a huge fan of the fragrance brand Juliette Has A Gun and own at least seven of their scents, much to the dismay of my bank account. I could be the best nose their company has ever seen.
Comfortably Normal
Most people living in the United States have different ideas of what the American dream is. To me, it is to achieve complete comfortable normalcy.
Societal definitions of what normalcy actually is varies from person to person, but to me it is, like I mentioned, comfortable normalcy. It’s having a house or apartment that you’ve made your own, filled with people you enjoy being around and with the person you love or happily alone. It’s being okay, not obsessed, with your job, but not hating it. It’s being happy with your life and living comfortably, not in excess or wanting.
It looks different for every comfortably normal person, but I would love to put my own spin on this fig.