Photo: The Berg Collection, NYPL
Born in Belgium in 1912 and raised in the United States, May Sarton was a writer who mastered various literary forms during her career, from evocative poetry and compelling novels through to a number of deeply introspective journals in her later decades. One of her greatest is Journal of a Solitude, kept over the course of a year as she neared her 60th birthday, living alone in the town of Nelson, New Hampshire, whilst struggling with depression. Gentle, insightful, and beautifully written, it’s a profound exploration of Sarton’s struggles and anxieties, and the solitary existence that both challenged and nurtured her process.
The Diary Entry
[18th January 1971]
A strange empty day. I did not feel well, lay around, looked at daffodils against the white walls, and twice thought I must be having hallucinations because of their extraordinary scent that goes from room to room. I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. I am still pursued by a neurosis about work inherited from my father. A day where one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room, not try to be or do anything whatever. Tonight I do feel in a state of grace, limbered up, less strained. Before supper I was able to begin to sort out poems of the last two years … there is quite a bunch. For my sixtieth birthday I intend to publish sixty new poems and, as I see it now, it will be a book of chiefly love poems. Sixty at Sixty, I call it, for fun.
Further Reading
The entry above comes from Journal of a Solitude, which is probably her most famous journal. But there are others, like The House by the Sea: A Journal, Recovering: A Journal, and At Seventy: A Journal, and I would recommend them all.
Also…
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