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this girl wrote a diary in the year 1020, and she’s just like I was at her age. She prays in her room in secret thusly: “Please grant that I should go to the capital as soon as possible where there are so many tales, and please let me get to read all of them.”
And later she does get to read the book she wants to read: “With my heart pounding with excitement, I was able to read, right from the first chapter, the Tale of Genji, this tale that had confused me and made me impatient when I had read only a piece of it. With no one bothering me, I just lay down inside my curtains, and the feeling I had as I unrolled scroll after scroll was such that I would not have cared even if I had had a chance to become empress!”
I remember being her age and feeling the same way about reading, and feeling like I wanted to devour the whole world with my eyes and mind. Now it is harder to keep that feeling, but I think it is still possible - when was the last time you felt that grateful for something? When was the last time it felt like a gift to be able to read? I ’m going to try to channel her more this year if I can. I linked a translation of her journal for anyone who wants to read it :—3
And later she does get to read the book she wants to read: “With my heart pounding with excitement, I was able to read, right from the first chapter, the Tale of Genji, this tale that had confused me and made me impatient when I had read only a piece of it. With no one bothering me, I just lay down inside my curtains, and the feeling I had as I unrolled scroll after scroll was such that I would not have cared even if I had had a chance to become empress!”
I remember being her age and feeling the same way about reading, and feeling like I wanted to devour the whole world with my eyes and mind. Now it is harder to keep that feeling, but I think it is still possible - when was the last time you felt that grateful for something? When was the last time it felt like a gift to be able to read? I ’m going to try to channel her more this year if I can. I linked a translation of her journal for anyone who wants to read it :—3
3d ago
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📗truly felt like reading my own journals from when I was 18, 19, but infinitely more discerning and eloquent!
“O my self, I will be sincere, sincere to you, completely sincere.”
“I will suffer; that is all. I will be strong enough.”
“I take back everything; I give up all faithfulness … I would like to live! I am going to live ... I am giving myself up; I am letting everything collapse, and I will start over again with something else. I am no longer paying attention to moral values; I am no longer seeking to do something. I want to be, to be. My beloved self, on an evening of exaltation, I promised you I would love you well.”
“O my self, I will be sincere, sincere to you, completely sincere.”
“I will suffer; that is all. I will be strong enough.”
“I take back everything; I give up all faithfulness … I would like to live! I am going to live ... I am giving myself up; I am letting everything collapse, and I will start over again with something else. I am no longer paying attention to moral values; I am no longer seeking to do something. I want to be, to be. My beloved self, on an evening of exaltation, I promised you I would love you well.”
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I’ve had this infamous volume Incest: From a Journal of Love: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, for years; I honestly just bought it because of the provocative title and because I had heard of her but was unfamiliar with her or her work (sub-rec: finally reading the books you actually own that have been sitting on the shelf).
The concept of the narratives we create about our own lives has been on my mind lately as I write a narrative of my own; I was reminded of Nin when thinking about what Gore Vidal wrote (and didn’t write!) about her in his memoir, Palimpsest.
After reading interviews with her + and articles about her life and her approach to publishing her journals (linked)—and seeing myself in her ways of coping, processing, and engaging with the world—I’m very excited to interrupt my own languorous navel-gazing reflection during my protracted period of post-holiday down-time and delve into hers/become too intimately acquainted with her delusional girl persona. The title pretty much exactly shows what to expect here, so it’s probably going to be an uncomfortable, gut-wrenching and painful read, to say the least, but it should be illuminating… pray for my stomach and my heart but it’s a great place to start
The concept of the narratives we create about our own lives has been on my mind lately as I write a narrative of my own; I was reminded of Nin when thinking about what Gore Vidal wrote (and didn’t write!) about her in his memoir, Palimpsest.
After reading interviews with her + and articles about her life and her approach to publishing her journals (linked)—and seeing myself in her ways of coping, processing, and engaging with the world—I’m very excited to interrupt my own languorous navel-gazing reflection during my protracted period of post-holiday down-time and delve into hers/become too intimately acquainted with her delusional girl persona. The title pretty much exactly shows what to expect here, so it’s probably going to be an uncomfortable, gut-wrenching and painful read, to say the least, but it should be illuminating… pray for my stomach and my heart but it’s a great place to start
Jan 9, 2025
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📚Miss Anaïs Nin really serves it to us hot in her published journals. doesn‘t hold back. I’m reading one now that I think her estate waited to publish after everyone involved was dead and honey I see why. I need to know what her sign was but I refuse to learn until I finish this book. I wish I could read the journals of people I know
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🍅Gazpacho only in the late summer, persimmons only in the winter, etc. just because we can import anything from anywhere anytime doesn’t mean we should. Nothing is special if you can have it whenever you want it.
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So much so that you stare at it like gollum and fantasize about passing it down to your unborn children. I got a new bracelet at the antique store