The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath

  The Bell Jar of the title is a metaphor for depression and societal pressure. Sylvia Plath writes this semi-autobiographical book about her breakdown and suicide attempt a decade earlier, then promptly commits suicide a bit later.

  The writing is very good, very introspective. The 1979 movie doesn't do justice to the book especially because it fails to convey the inner life of the main character, which the book excels at. It was a spooky read for me, as it describes in great detail how women - particularly in a social context, where outwardly they project something completely different - think inwardly, as well as how depression feels: the anhedonia, the mental dissociation with reality, the time distortion and incessant rumination. Depictions of early psychiatric practices from the time don't make the read any easier.

  I compare it with My Year of Rest and Relaxation, The Stranger and Almost Human. It's also an informative glimpse of '50s American society, with some feminist overtones that feel honest.

  Bottom line: a good book, but you have to have the mood and stomach for this kind of story. If you are studying psychology it's good material for depression.