The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (1963) - Finished this a few days ago. A colleague had brought this one to me when I mentioned I haven't read many female authors in my life. I liked it, found it very competently written yet throughout the book I found something was lacking...perhaps the lack of a distinct voice. I don't really see any flaw within this one, except that I found it a little dispassionate, which didn't stir me. There is a neat and intelligent little trick where Sylvia Plath has her main character express sick thoughts and act in a bizarre way with even-keeled descriptive prose which can then trick the reader into thinking that she isn't all that crazy at all which in ignorant way is how I could see a mentally-ill person function and hide their illness/believe they are sane. There's some good lyrical moments in spurts as well, but it's not a work that's likely to stick with me.