A Sorcerer Bids Farewell To Seem by Sylvia Plath Summary

I’m through with this grand looking-glass hotel
where adjectives play croquet with flamingo nouns;
methinks I shall absent me for a while
from rhetoric of these rococo queens.
Item : chuck out royal rigmarole of props
and auction off each rare white-rabbit verb;
send my muse Alice packing with gaudy scraps
of mushroom simile and gryphon garb.

My native sleight-of-hand is wearing out :
mad hatter’s hat yields no new metaphor,
and jabberwock will not translate his songs :
it’s time to vanish like the cheshire cat
alone to that authentic island where
cabbages are cabbages; kings : kings.

The speaker is saying goodbye to a fancy and impressive hotel that seems like a grand looking-glass, where adjectives (words that describe things) are playing a game of croquet with flamingo nouns (naming words for things, like animals). They feel like taking a break from the fancy and overly decorated language used by these extravagant queens.

The speaker wants to get rid of the complicated and unnecessary language and get rid of all the fancy words and phrases that don’t really mean much. They want to sell off and get rid of all the rare and unusual action words, and they want to send away their inspiration, which they call their muse, who’s like the character Alice from the story, with all the flashy and showy comparisons and clothing of strange creatures like the gryphon.

The speaker feels like their natural ability to use language cleverly is fading away. They can’t find any new and interesting comparisons or metaphors in the crazy and chaotic world of the story. Even the wild and mysterious creature called the Jabberwocky isn’t helping them find any new ideas for their writing. So, they think it’s time to disappear quietly, like the Cheshire Cat, who fades away until you can’t see them anymore, and go to a place where things are simple and straightforward, where a cabbage is just a cabbage, and kings are just kings.