Am höchsten bewertete kritische Rezension
Anais: self-titled all-round Wonder-God
am 17. Mai 2000
Whilst Nin certainly has a talent for stringing together passionate words into readable text I can think of nothing else to admire in this book. It is, allegedly, the "true" recollection of Anais Nin's affair with Henry Miller and obsession with his wife June. Excerpts from her journal, we are supposed to believe. As I began reading this book I initially felt, despite my knowledge of Nin as a person, that I could be in for an interesting and sordid ride as Anais tore apart her life, her husband's, and everyone else's around her as she undertook some sort of sexual odyssey which females today are supposed to admire. She has enjoyed a reputation for one of the world's first notable feminists. This could have been an interesting read. But what I soon found in this book were the lying words of a woman who hid her insecurity by repeatedly attempting to convince herself and anyone who would listen how wonderful and beautiful she is. About half way through, it becomes blatantly apparent that she is at the very least grossly exaggerating the more positive aspects of her relationships with the other characters: the amounts of times we are meant to believe, for instance, that Henry tells her she is beautiful, brilliant, ten times the human being he is, the only thing that matters, perfect, without fault, glowing, the brightest woman to ever exist, his entire world, the one that has changed his world, etc etc - well, NO ONE is that fantastic. And according to Anais, everyone seems to think of her that way. Any fault prescribed to herself is a mistake, or something said to upset her driven by the other's jealousy at her beauty or something similar. Of course it has come out now that Nin has lied abominably in many of her diaries. Gore Vidal (Palipsest) says that lying in the end became her first, not second, nature. Perhaps this foreknowledge made me pick out her lies more easily than if i had not known. People may read this review and mark it unfavourably due to my negativity, but the fact remains: this book is the words of an immature, lying woman, and if you look past the flowery language, it is easy to perceive.