He's stirred me but I don't love him, I don't want him. Sensuality is a secret power in my body, I said to Eduardo. When flips through the stack of erotic postcards in the beginning of the film, one of them is of a woman propped up in a chair with a hat on and is shown hiking up her skirt with one hand. On the other hand, our quarrels, when they come, seem harder and more emotional. We only ask each other for time to become reasonable again, to accept ourselves and the new conditions. I really believe that if I were not a writer, not a creator, not an experimenter, I might have been a very faithful wife. Almost every other word he utters causes an electric charge: on Bunuel's Age d'Or, on Salavin, on Waldo Frank, on Proust, on the film Blue Angel, on people, on animalism, on Paris, on French prostitutes, on American women, on America.
When you caricature and nail down and tear apart, I hate you. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child's blind faith. He has now hopped into my life. There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses or by way of the imagination. When June leaves, Nin becomes involved with Henry, and begins an uninhibited sexual and emotional affair with him, which prompts an intellectual and sensual awakening. He takes up the work with tremendous enthusiasm and speed. Nin also broke ground as a writer of female erotica — and Little Birds most notably, which were published posthumously.
The two most misinterpreted words in the world: narcissism and ego. If the reader is to take away only one thing from this small section of a much larger work, it is that love is the most complicated of emotions and can be analysed to death, but sometimes you just have to go with it, and deal with what happens as best you can. In some strange way I am not with you, I am against you. A seven-year-late, mature honeymoon, full of the fear of life. She possesses a remarkable self awareness that allows her to view herself almost as a separate person though this usually takes place in the past tense, with her analysing her behaviour from earlier in the day or last week that the reader cannot help but admire. He looks like a Spaniard, but he is Jewish—Russian, he tells me.
The text is taken from journals thirty-two through thirty-six, titled June, The Possessed, Henry, Apotheosis and Downfall, and Journal of a Possessed, written from October 1931 to October 1932. Hugo doesn't want to get drunk. His actions are devoid of either feeling or imagination. Again the question: Do we want parties, orgies? Years ago, when I tried to imagine a pure beauty, I had created an image in my mind of just that woman. One woman sent me her first drawing made after reading the Diary. Hell and heaven all at once.
He was wishing he could go to the Quatz Arts Ball. In his writing he is flamboyant, virile, animal, magnificent. Last night when we talked he swore that he desired no one but me. I think, it's because I don't love him. I know now why I did not trust him the first day.
I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence. He is even walking ahead of Joyce. When I go home, I know I go back to the banker. As she came towards me from the darkness of my garden into the light of the doorway I saw for the first time the most beautiful woman on earth. By the end of the evening I was like a man, terribly in love with her face and body, which promised so much, and I hated the self created in her by others.
The Diary cured depression, opened secret chambers. But Anaïs the novelist, always dominant, chose to begin in 1931, her most interesting and dramatic period, when she had just met Henry and June Miller. He cannot bother with illusions. I wondered at this last night as I closed Drake's book. She treated the diary as a confidante and wrote in it almost daily throughout her life—in French, until 1920; after that, in English. We are at once free and enslaved.
I watch him with my sophisticated face. Nin is probably more famous for her bohemian lifestyle, her steamy affairs and erotica than for her contributions to serious literature, according to Fitch. However, psychology, being scientific thinking, has become a successful bridge between his banking and my writing. She does not dare to be herself. She discovered her true sexual nature and the meaning of passion.
The book has been awarded with , and many others. I worship her courage to hurt, and I am willing to be sacrificed to it. There is nothing of Drake himself in the book, I am convinced. I owed him that; he had revealed a new world to me. Anais states more than once beforehand that she is simply not interested in Henry physically, but she continues to meet with him alone and seems to be drawn in to his personality and charm. You make a wonderful pattern, everything is in its place, it looks convincingly clear, too clear.