There are poems here to warm your heart, and others to chill your blood. As an example of the former, the 1957 poem "Sow" is a celebration of the muddiness and bloodiness of thriving, procreating life, redolent of the optimistic romanticism of Wordsworth or Robert Graves. When we get to the later recordings, on side two, the poet's nerve ends are raw-exposed. "Daddy", with its dark and terrible imagery - "Every woman adores a fascist, the boot in the face..." - makes you wonder exactly how her father, who died when she was a child, behaved toward her. That and "Lady Lazarus" are about as dark as poetry can get. Not every poet is the best reader of their work, but Plath conveys her agony in these recordings in a way that surely no one else could. If you are prepared to probe the very centres of poetic pain, get this tape.