What is the truth about her mysterious relationship with Gore Vidal? And what was it about Rupert Pole that seemed to assuage all the pain Nin had endured? Will I ever reach joy? Here, the hazy, almost imagined images and the vague angst of the Diary snap into eye-searing focus, cast in a strong, sharp, defining light, laid bare for the reader. It is sometimes shocking, sometimes beautiful, sometimes agonizing, with little left to the imagination.
The personages of the Diary become real people with real flaws and real problems; the transformation Nin undergoes is made brutally clear. Mirages is a document of heartbreak, despair, desperation, carnage and deep mourning, but it is also one of courage, persistence, evolution and redemption. So fast we fly over the distance I no longer feel the pain of separation.
- Borders Crossing.
- See a Problem?.
- Anaïs Nin: The Demise of the Nin-Miller Affair.
- Refined by Relationships (DiscipleGuide);
- Top Authors.
- The Calling.
So fast we fly, it is a dream and not reality, and in the dream pain is short-lived and soon dissolved. Again towards America, as during the other war. From high above the life in Paris seems so small and dark, and I ask myself why I wept so much. I am still baffled by the mystery of how man has an independent life from woman, whereas I die when separated from my lover. While all these threads of desire and tenderness stifled me, I climbed into a giant bird and swooped toward space. Up here I do not suffer. Distance is magically covered. It is a dream. It is an inhuman bird that carries me to a new destiny.
I rise. At last, like Henry, I know detachment, enter a non- human world. For this voyage I threw out a great deal of weight, to permit myself to rise. Constantly I am throwing out ballast.
Anais Nin's Lost World Paris in Words and Pictures, | eBay
I never keep bags or old papers or objects I no longer love. It is not masochism. A spiritual nature is aware of its faults and seeks to perfect itself, and can only achieve this by suffering and accepting. I needed to be humanized. About a week ago I awakened with strange fears. Gonzalo had delayed his trip. I spent all afternoon walking the streets of the Village looking for a place for Gonzalo and me, for a dream, a room that would not be just a room, a studio that would not be just a studio, a house that would not be just a house.
Anais Nin’s Lost World: Paris in Words and Pictures, 1924-1939
I was standing at the corner of my hotel, worn out and discouraged, about to go back in, to surrender. At that moment I felt so vividly the kind of place I dreamed of that I continued to walk, as if I were walking towards it. I walked to an agent, and he took me to three places. The third place was the Place—an old red brick house in front of the Provincetown Playhouse.
Top floor—a studio which is an echo of Nanankepichu—part of it low-ceilinged, uneven, with small square windows, the other half skylight, high and wonderful for drawing and writing. Old but clean, floor painted black, a fireplace—an air of not being in New York.
A big bed and a big desk. My heart was pounding. I took it immediately. The next morning, while waiting for Gonzalo, I took over the bed cover from Paris, the same pair of sheets we had in rue Cassini, the seashell lamp. I bought two bottles of Chianti, two big candles, a bottle opener—and there it was! When Gonzalo came, he was thunderstruck. The only beautiful place in New York, with charm and strangeness and uniqueness!
He threw wine on the floor for luck. Finding the place made me happy. It seems to me we can find again the dream which New York has destroyed. I was dancing with joy. Robert lays the diary open on my knees. But now I feel it is human. I asked myself: did Robert act out this pattern of outgoing and then withdrawing, like the magic dictation I received from June, the June in me pushing me to abandon Henry and then return to him?
Patterns, repetitions. Today Patchen telephoned me: would I send him ten dollars. Bestselling Series. Harry Potter. Popular Features. New Releases. Categories: Biography: Literary. Her diaries, both expurgated and unexpurgated, and a host of biographies have documented her life in an almost unprecedented way, yet she remains shrouded in mystery.
English review by Britt Arenander of « Anaïs Nin – genèse et jeunesse »
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