Sylvia Plath’s “Ariel” is a poem in constant motion. With the exception of the “[s]tasis” (Line 1) that begins the poem, the work proceeds like a violent birth until the speaker rides their horse Ariel into the “red / [e]ye, the cauldron of morning” (Lines 30-31). Through the act of riding, the speaker and their horse merge into a single being. This merger, and the speaker’s queering of Shakespeare’s Ariel into a female horse, raise questions about female bodies and creativity. The speaker responds to these questions by appealing to myth and “unpeel[ing]” (Line 20) their body until they are consumed by the morning sun.

The motion in “Ariel” roughly follows the narrative of a human life. The “[s]tasis in darkness” (Line 1) at the beginning of the poem suggests a womb, or that the speaker is coming into being from a liminal (transient) state. Shortly after, the speaker experiences the “[p]our of tor and distances” (Line 3) as the world impresses upon them. The speaker then describes the “furrow” (Line 6) that “splits and passes” (Line 7) as they move their way through it. The image of the furrow draws on classical associations between agriculture and feminine fertility.