The movie Sylvia portrayed the stormy relationship of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes. While Hughes received recognition, Plath felt trapped as a housewife and unable to write under her husband’s shadow. A sad tale, and I wonder during the peak of their romance whether there was a time when they were able to influence and elevate each other’s writing.
Love and art merged for sculptors Rodin and Camille Claudel (she died in a mental hospital), composers/pianists Robert and Clara Schumann (he committed suicide and she raised eight children), and poets Robert and Elizabeth Browning, and each became formidable in their own right. The synthesis requires humility and trust; and love, which does magical things.
This is Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s most famous poem:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death