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A review by annaoallen
The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934 by Anaïs Nin

challenging hopeful reflective tense slow-paced

3.0

My feelings were so complicated while I was reading this. At one point, a little over halfway through, I almost set the book down forever. The Anais of this time is a privileged young woman in her mid-twenties who has just written her first successful book, which opens her world to many opportunities for acquaintance and friendship with other established artists and writers of her time and place, France in the 1930's, and she embarks upon a journey of self-discovery through the analysis of Dr. Allendy, and later has more success with Otto Frank. 

She records everything, trying to figure herself out, and the writing is sometimes profound, but in the first half, she came across to me as egotistical, and seemed to be searching for outward approval, always recording anything nice anyone else said about her, and they all said very nice things. I saw her as a rich girl obsessed with the mediocrities of her friends and their lives, I did not care at all about Henry and June, and she could not hold my attention, but something prevented me from actually putting the book down altogether. At that point when I was almost ready to give up, I did something I never do, desperate, and read ahead to see if this was all ending up somewhere, and oh, it was. 

It took me almost two years to get to that halfway point, but then, suddenly, the book shifted. Life happened and Anais was forced to grow. I was reminded, reading, as events unfolded, that this was not just a book, it was someone's journal. I became enthralled with her reconnection with her estranged father, her self discovery finally coming to points of epiphany, her bafflement at the beginning persecution of the Jews and the loss of a stillborn daughter. I finished the second half in just over a month. 

After all this, at the end, the first half of the book did seem essential to me; it was required as a presentation of the young Anais Nin, before the events of her life unfurled and forced change upon her circumstance and growth upon her person. Now that I've finished her first journal, I am surprised at my looking forward to beginning the next. For a long time I thought I might not finish this first journal. Now I know I will read them all, after a break, and some education on D.H. Lawrence, whose work is mentioned and worshipped constantly by Anais.

As for her self-discovery and analysis, which is the prominent theme of the book, it was an interesting time of my life to have read this, as I dove into therapy myself. It's the first book I began to read after beginning therapy almost two years ago, and I finished it the same week I felt ready to reduce my sessions. In a way, Anais and I seem to have kept each other company through this therapy journey. I read this when I needed it; looking back, there were plenty of Anais's insights which made me think more wholly about my own experience. Our lives don't match up at all, but maybe I needed her separate perspective.

On another note, I never highlight books, but I wish I had highlighted this one. There are beautiful passages scattered throughout the entire work. If Anais had written with no events, every corner of her house and garden in detail, the architecture of other artists homes, the streets of Paris, etc, I would have been happy enough. When she did take the time to describe, she did it very well, but she was more interested in writing portraits of the people she knew. She read the people in her life, and then she went to her room in the evenings and wrote the people down.