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أنا وسارتر والحياة
The second volume in Simone de Beauvoir's autobiography. In it she continues the story of her life from the age of 21, through the uneasy rebellious 30s, the war years and finally to the liberation of Paris in 1944.
303 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1960
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About the author
Simone de Beauvoir
363books10.6kfollowersSimone de Beauvoir was a French author and philosopher. She wrote novels, monographs on philosophy, political and social issues, essays, biographies, and an autobiography. She is now best known for her metaphysical novels, including She Came to Stay and The Mandarins, and for her 1949 treatise The Second Sex, a detailed analysis of women's oppression and a foundational tract of contemporary feminism.
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Simone de Beauvoir est née à Paris le 9 janvier 1908. Elle fit ses études jusqu'au baccalauréat dans le très catholique cours Désir. Agrégée de philosophie en 1929, elle enseigna à Marseille, à Rouen et à Paris jusqu'en 1943. C'est 'Աé (1943) qu'on doit considérer comme son véritable début littéraire. Viennent ensuite Le sang des autres (1945), Tous les hommes sont mortels (1946), Les Mandarins (prix Goncourt 1954), Les Belles Images (1966) et La Femme rompue (1968).
Simone de Beauvoir a écrit des mémoires où elle nous donne elle-même à connaître sa vie, son œuvre. L'ampleur de l'entreprise autobiographique trouve sa justification, son sens, dans une contradiction essentielle à l'écrivain : choisir lui fut toujours impossible entre le bonheur de vivre et la nécessité d'écrire ; d'une part la splendeur contingente, de l'autre la rigueur salvatrice. Faire de sa propre existence l'objet de son écriture, c'était en partie sortir de ce dilemme.
Outre le célèbre Deuxième sexe (1949) devenu l'ouvrage de référence du mouvement féministe mondial, l'œuvre théorique de Simone de Beauvoir comprend de nombreux essais philosophiques ou polémiques.
Après la mort de Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir a publié La Cérémonie des adieux (1981) et les Lettres au Castor (1983) qui rassemblent une partie de l'abondante correspondance qu'elle reçut de lui. Jusqu'au jour de sa mort, le 14 avril 1986, elle a collaboré activement à la revue fondée par Sartre et elle-même, Les Temps Modernes, et manifesté sous des formes diverses et innombrables sa solidarité avec le féminisme.
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Simone de Beauvoir est née à Paris le 9 janvier 1908. Elle fit ses études jusqu'au baccalauréat dans le très catholique cours Désir. Agrégée de philosophie en 1929, elle enseigna à Marseille, à Rouen et à Paris jusqu'en 1943. C'est 'Աé (1943) qu'on doit considérer comme son véritable début littéraire. Viennent ensuite Le sang des autres (1945), Tous les hommes sont mortels (1946), Les Mandarins (prix Goncourt 1954), Les Belles Images (1966) et La Femme rompue (1968).
Simone de Beauvoir a écrit des mémoires où elle nous donne elle-même à connaître sa vie, son œuvre. L'ampleur de l'entreprise autobiographique trouve sa justification, son sens, dans une contradiction essentielle à l'écrivain : choisir lui fut toujours impossible entre le bonheur de vivre et la nécessité d'écrire ; d'une part la splendeur contingente, de l'autre la rigueur salvatrice. Faire de sa propre existence l'objet de son écriture, c'était en partie sortir de ce dilemme.
Outre le célèbre Deuxième sexe (1949) devenu l'ouvrage de référence du mouvement féministe mondial, l'œuvre théorique de Simone de Beauvoir comprend de nombreux essais philosophiques ou polémiques.
Après la mort de Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir a publié La Cérémonie des adieux (1981) et les Lettres au Castor (1983) qui rassemblent une partie de l'abondante correspondance qu'elle reçut de lui. Jusqu'au jour de sa mort, le 14 avril 1986, elle a collaboré activement à la revue fondée par Sartre et elle-même, Les Temps Modernes, et manifesté sous des formes diverses et innombrables sa solidarité avec le féminisme.
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January 7, 2022
La Force de l'âge = Prime of Life (1929-1944), Simone de Beauvoir
Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986), a French writer, first articulated what has since become the basis of the modern feminist movement. She was the author of novels, autobiographies, and non-fiction analysis dealing with women's position in a male-dominated world.
The formative years 1929 through 1944 in the remarkable life of the celebrated feminist and writer, one of the few great women of her time. Beauvoir covers her legendary relationship with Sartre, the rise of fascism in Europe and the occupation of France, and her friendships with Camus, Giacometti, Picasso, and Lacan.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش سال1983میلادی
عنوان: خاطرات� در چهار جلد در2843ص؛ نویسنده: س‍ی‍م‍ون‌د� ب‍ووار� مت‍رج�: ق‍اس‍م� ص‍ن‍ع‍وی� جلد نخست: خاطرات� دخ‍ت‍ری� آراس‍ت‍ه� جلد دوم: سن کمال؛ جلد سوم: اج‍ب‍ار� جلد چهارم: حسابرسی؛ تهران، توس، سال1361؛ چاپ دیگر سال1378؛ شابک دوره9643153118؛شابک جلد دوم9643155307؛ چاپ دیگر سال1380؛ چاپ سوم سال1395؛ موضوع زندگینامه خودنوشت از نویسندگان فرانسه - سده20م
این چهار کتاب را بارها خوانده ام؛ کتاب دوم از پایان دوران تحصیلات «دوبوار»، و آشنایی ایشان با «سارتر» آغاز میشود، و تا پایان جنگ جهانی دوم، و آزاد شدن «پاریس» از اشغال «آلمانها» تدامه و پایان مییابد؛ «دوبوار» و همچنین «ژان پل سارتر»، که از سال 1929میلادی با هم آشنا، و پس از پایان تحصیلات به آموزگاری میپردازند؛ تدریس در شهرستانها شروع میکنند؛ نوشتن از مکانهایی که سرگرمی «دوبوار» در آنجاها، گشت و گذار، پیاده رویش در شهر، و دیدار از همگی دیدنیها و کوههای اطراف، و دیدارهای پی در پی ایشان با «سارتر» است؛ گاهی هم پا را فراتر میگذارند؛ و اعتراض میکنند؛ بخش بزرگی از بخش دوم خاطرات، به جنگ دوم جهانی و اشغال فرانسه توسط آلمان نازی پرداخته است، جنگ ویرانگری که قحطی و کشته و زندانی و به هم ریختگی و ترس به همراه داشته است؛
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 16/10/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986), a French writer, first articulated what has since become the basis of the modern feminist movement. She was the author of novels, autobiographies, and non-fiction analysis dealing with women's position in a male-dominated world.
The formative years 1929 through 1944 in the remarkable life of the celebrated feminist and writer, one of the few great women of her time. Beauvoir covers her legendary relationship with Sartre, the rise of fascism in Europe and the occupation of France, and her friendships with Camus, Giacometti, Picasso, and Lacan.
تاریخ نخستین خوانش سال1983میلادی
عنوان: خاطرات� در چهار جلد در2843ص؛ نویسنده: س‍ی‍م‍ون‌د� ب‍ووار� مت‍رج�: ق‍اس‍م� ص‍ن‍ع‍وی� جلد نخست: خاطرات� دخ‍ت‍ری� آراس‍ت‍ه� جلد دوم: سن کمال؛ جلد سوم: اج‍ب‍ار� جلد چهارم: حسابرسی؛ تهران، توس، سال1361؛ چاپ دیگر سال1378؛ شابک دوره9643153118؛شابک جلد دوم9643155307؛ چاپ دیگر سال1380؛ چاپ سوم سال1395؛ موضوع زندگینامه خودنوشت از نویسندگان فرانسه - سده20م
این چهار کتاب را بارها خوانده ام؛ کتاب دوم از پایان دوران تحصیلات «دوبوار»، و آشنایی ایشان با «سارتر» آغاز میشود، و تا پایان جنگ جهانی دوم، و آزاد شدن «پاریس» از اشغال «آلمانها» تدامه و پایان مییابد؛ «دوبوار» و همچنین «ژان پل سارتر»، که از سال 1929میلادی با هم آشنا، و پس از پایان تحصیلات به آموزگاری میپردازند؛ تدریس در شهرستانها شروع میکنند؛ نوشتن از مکانهایی که سرگرمی «دوبوار» در آنجاها، گشت و گذار، پیاده رویش در شهر، و دیدار از همگی دیدنیها و کوههای اطراف، و دیدارهای پی در پی ایشان با «سارتر» است؛ گاهی هم پا را فراتر میگذارند؛ و اعتراض میکنند؛ بخش بزرگی از بخش دوم خاطرات، به جنگ دوم جهانی و اشغال فرانسه توسط آلمان نازی پرداخته است، جنگ ویرانگری که قحطی و کشته و زندانی و به هم ریختگی و ترس به همراه داشته است؛
تاریخ بهنگام رسانی 16/10/1400هجری خورشیدی؛ ا. شربیانی
October 23, 2011
If volume one of her memoirs made me fall completely in love with Simone de Beauvoir, then volume two is what always comes afterward, where those endearing quirks are seen for the faults they are, which doesn't make one love her any less, perhaps more even.
If you're looking for the dirt, this autobiography is hardly forthcoming, but she does offer some explanation of her emotions and motives, if you read between the lines, though she never mentions any juicy personal details, which might make you want to run out a grab a biography with ALL the gossip, but if the author has firmly got her hooks in you by now, you probably won’t because it would seem sleazy. Yeah, I’m talking about the preternatural relationship with young girls, etc. It seems even at this age she was already preoccupied with the 'irreparable loss of youth' and I think chasing that lost youth underlies her weirdness with the youngsters. But hey, no one is perfect!
And yes, she’s sort of narcissistic (but I sort of think maybe it’s a required trait to make any way in this world, see that’s why I’m a failure, I’m just not self-centered enough.) She spent her youth and much of her young life believing that the world could only be understood through her senses and her superior mind alone. That others experience the exact same thing was nothing less than a revelation to her. Yet, I think this point of view is so very human and she is far more honest than most people for admitting this. It’s even humorous when, after young street urchins in a Greek slum throw stones at them, she explains it away simply as they were throwing stones at "tourists" and of course the kids' anger was not really directed at ‘us�. She so easily excludes herself from the social group to which she firmly belongs, but she also recognizes this error and that’s what makes her writing so interesting. The reader may cringe at how she justifies everything relating to her relationship with Sartre. While her examination of sexual attitudes that were taken for granted is interesting, I must wonder at the self denial/dishonesty this takes. Her internal conflict of body vs. mind and upbringing vs. philosophy are obviously reoccurring theme.
This is one of those books you have to decide how much time you really want to devote to looking up references, to literature, philosophy, film, theater and politics, which this book absolutely overflows with. Of course there is the historical significance and the famous people she knew. I found young Sartre's prediction that 'talkies' would never really take off funny, as well as his strange interests, like graphology, yet these were all within the trends of their times, like the Yo-yo craze which Sartre practiced morning to night at one point. I laughed at his experiment with LSD, which possibly led to his reoccurring delusions about a giant lobster stalking him (I feel for you Sartre, the single instance I took an hallucinogenic I also had had horrible time of it, no lobster though.)
I love how travel was so important to her, no matter how broke she was she managed through sheer thrift to see a large portion of Western Europe. I love how she would just take off alone for days or weeks, hiking through the Alps or across the French countryside with just some bread, sausage and canteen of wine (so French!) and no idea of her destination. I love reading about her and Sartre’s trips to Spain and Italy and Morocco, where they could only afford the cheapest deck crossing on ships and often slept in parks, or barns, or in ruins they where there to sightseeing. Later she takes up cycling and rides off a cliff face, twice, the second time losing a tooth and swelling her whole face so that only after two weeks when her facial swelling goes down does she realize her tooth is embedded in her face (which apparently is a thing that happens, my nephew cut his foot open in a lake this summer, it took a while to heal and after a month it was still itching, so he was picking at it and a shell popped out! He had been walking around with a part of zebra mussel shell in his foot for almost a month! In his defense, he’s only 7.)
This volume illuminates the birth of her political awareness. Up until the start of WW II she pays little notice to current events and politics, passing by strikes on her way to see tourist attraction without a thought. It is fascinating to watch as she gradually becomes more aware, for instance how she cries inconsolably during a visit to cousin’s factory at the working conditions. I thought the switching to her actual diary entries at start of the war and the fall of France was interesting, the frenzied tone embodies the uncertainly and excitement of the time. I like how the diary fades out as she becomes accustomed to war, as people do become accustomed to anything. Even her lust for travel is not stopped by the Nazi occupation though she decries the "chic refuges" that she only distinguish herself from by being broke, even as she remains the firmly part middle class as much as she hates to admit it. And her joy of experiencing the liberation of Paris is infectious. Even if you have no interest her life, philosophy and the exciting times she lived, this stands alone as a beautifully written narrative. I thought about giving this 5 stars but went with four, if only to separate it from the more superior first volume. I suppose I'll have to read the next one as well.
If you're looking for the dirt, this autobiography is hardly forthcoming, but she does offer some explanation of her emotions and motives, if you read between the lines, though she never mentions any juicy personal details, which might make you want to run out a grab a biography with ALL the gossip, but if the author has firmly got her hooks in you by now, you probably won’t because it would seem sleazy. Yeah, I’m talking about the preternatural relationship with young girls, etc. It seems even at this age she was already preoccupied with the 'irreparable loss of youth' and I think chasing that lost youth underlies her weirdness with the youngsters. But hey, no one is perfect!
And yes, she’s sort of narcissistic (but I sort of think maybe it’s a required trait to make any way in this world, see that’s why I’m a failure, I’m just not self-centered enough.) She spent her youth and much of her young life believing that the world could only be understood through her senses and her superior mind alone. That others experience the exact same thing was nothing less than a revelation to her. Yet, I think this point of view is so very human and she is far more honest than most people for admitting this. It’s even humorous when, after young street urchins in a Greek slum throw stones at them, she explains it away simply as they were throwing stones at "tourists" and of course the kids' anger was not really directed at ‘us�. She so easily excludes herself from the social group to which she firmly belongs, but she also recognizes this error and that’s what makes her writing so interesting. The reader may cringe at how she justifies everything relating to her relationship with Sartre. While her examination of sexual attitudes that were taken for granted is interesting, I must wonder at the self denial/dishonesty this takes. Her internal conflict of body vs. mind and upbringing vs. philosophy are obviously reoccurring theme.
This is one of those books you have to decide how much time you really want to devote to looking up references, to literature, philosophy, film, theater and politics, which this book absolutely overflows with. Of course there is the historical significance and the famous people she knew. I found young Sartre's prediction that 'talkies' would never really take off funny, as well as his strange interests, like graphology, yet these were all within the trends of their times, like the Yo-yo craze which Sartre practiced morning to night at one point. I laughed at his experiment with LSD, which possibly led to his reoccurring delusions about a giant lobster stalking him (I feel for you Sartre, the single instance I took an hallucinogenic I also had had horrible time of it, no lobster though.)
I love how travel was so important to her, no matter how broke she was she managed through sheer thrift to see a large portion of Western Europe. I love how she would just take off alone for days or weeks, hiking through the Alps or across the French countryside with just some bread, sausage and canteen of wine (so French!) and no idea of her destination. I love reading about her and Sartre’s trips to Spain and Italy and Morocco, where they could only afford the cheapest deck crossing on ships and often slept in parks, or barns, or in ruins they where there to sightseeing. Later she takes up cycling and rides off a cliff face, twice, the second time losing a tooth and swelling her whole face so that only after two weeks when her facial swelling goes down does she realize her tooth is embedded in her face (which apparently is a thing that happens, my nephew cut his foot open in a lake this summer, it took a while to heal and after a month it was still itching, so he was picking at it and a shell popped out! He had been walking around with a part of zebra mussel shell in his foot for almost a month! In his defense, he’s only 7.)
This volume illuminates the birth of her political awareness. Up until the start of WW II she pays little notice to current events and politics, passing by strikes on her way to see tourist attraction without a thought. It is fascinating to watch as she gradually becomes more aware, for instance how she cries inconsolably during a visit to cousin’s factory at the working conditions. I thought the switching to her actual diary entries at start of the war and the fall of France was interesting, the frenzied tone embodies the uncertainly and excitement of the time. I like how the diary fades out as she becomes accustomed to war, as people do become accustomed to anything. Even her lust for travel is not stopped by the Nazi occupation though she decries the "chic refuges" that she only distinguish herself from by being broke, even as she remains the firmly part middle class as much as she hates to admit it. And her joy of experiencing the liberation of Paris is infectious. Even if you have no interest her life, philosophy and the exciting times she lived, this stands alone as a beautifully written narrative. I thought about giving this 5 stars but went with four, if only to separate it from the more superior first volume. I suppose I'll have to read the next one as well.
May 20, 2024
Rilettura
May 12, 2017
A día de hoy me pregunto por qué no he dado cinco estrellas a todos y cada uno de los libros de Simone, especialmente a sus memorias, porque sinceramente en mi cabeza todos y cada uno de ellos son totalmente invalorables, las cinco estrellas se quedan siempre cortas.
El momento en que un libro de Simone cayó entre mis manos, es, sin duda, determinante. O puede que lo fuera aquel día que me reafirmé infinitamente en el feminismo, aquel día en el que tuve que leer en una biografía de Simone aquello de: pensadora mujer de Sartre. Verdaderamente penoso e indignante.
Lo cierto es que he leído este tomo de las memorias para hacer un trabajo sobre Simone, concretamente sobre la influencia de Simone en Sartre, pero en realidad puede que simplemente el trabajo haya resultado justificable y necesario mientras lo leía.
Las memorias de Simone además de acercarte infinitamente a lo que ella fue, son siempre una clase de historia, donde narra los sucesos de su época y la forma e influencia que tuvieron para ella.
Este libro posee una parte que a mi parecer es esencial en la figura de Simone: la ruptura que se produce en ella con el individualismo que había cultivado durante toda su juventud, hasta la guerra. Entonces se produce un cambio que indudablemente marco su vida y tanto su obra literaria como filosófica.
Es entonces cuando Simone reconoce aquella esfera que quienes nos dedicamos a la filosofía no podemos negar: la ética y la política. Con este cambio aparece un concepto fundamental en la filosofía existencialista y especialmente en el existencialismo de Simone, se introduce así el peso de la responsabilidad de la existencia auténticamente asumida (aquello de lo que nos habla Heidegger aunque no entendamos demasiado bien nada de lo que dice)
Este concepto es para mí uno de los más importantes en la filosofía de Simone, expone con una claridad mucho más evidente que Sarte lo que representa la responsabilidad en el existencialismo.
Algo de lo que desgraciadamente nadie parece percatarse y de lo que es mejor no hablar en clases de existencialismo, no vaya a ser que descubramos que existen mujeres filósofas, o mejor aún, que quebremos esos cánones filosóficos que como dice uno de mis profesores, deben ser forjado en una sala con luz bastante tenue y repleta de hombres occidentales blancos con gafas de sol y trajes negros. Si no eres hombre, blanco y occidental estás fuera de la filosofía, quedas relegado a aquello que conocemos como silencios de la filosofía, que dicen mucho sobre su historia.
Este libro, además de conceptos fundamentales ofrece los datos necesarios para alcanzar la comprensión necesaria de cómo y por qué se efectuó el nacimiento de éstos en su creadora. Ya por la época que se nos narra en este tomo Simone empezó a percatarse de la condición femenina, condición que sin embargo dado la vida que ella había elegido, le era ajena y que por ello tardo en aparecérsela como verdadera.
El momento en que un libro de Simone cayó entre mis manos, es, sin duda, determinante. O puede que lo fuera aquel día que me reafirmé infinitamente en el feminismo, aquel día en el que tuve que leer en una biografía de Simone aquello de: pensadora mujer de Sartre. Verdaderamente penoso e indignante.
Lo cierto es que he leído este tomo de las memorias para hacer un trabajo sobre Simone, concretamente sobre la influencia de Simone en Sartre, pero en realidad puede que simplemente el trabajo haya resultado justificable y necesario mientras lo leía.
Las memorias de Simone además de acercarte infinitamente a lo que ella fue, son siempre una clase de historia, donde narra los sucesos de su época y la forma e influencia que tuvieron para ella.
Este libro posee una parte que a mi parecer es esencial en la figura de Simone: la ruptura que se produce en ella con el individualismo que había cultivado durante toda su juventud, hasta la guerra. Entonces se produce un cambio que indudablemente marco su vida y tanto su obra literaria como filosófica.
Es entonces cuando Simone reconoce aquella esfera que quienes nos dedicamos a la filosofía no podemos negar: la ética y la política. Con este cambio aparece un concepto fundamental en la filosofía existencialista y especialmente en el existencialismo de Simone, se introduce así el peso de la responsabilidad de la existencia auténticamente asumida (aquello de lo que nos habla Heidegger aunque no entendamos demasiado bien nada de lo que dice)
Este concepto es para mí uno de los más importantes en la filosofía de Simone, expone con una claridad mucho más evidente que Sarte lo que representa la responsabilidad en el existencialismo.
Algo de lo que desgraciadamente nadie parece percatarse y de lo que es mejor no hablar en clases de existencialismo, no vaya a ser que descubramos que existen mujeres filósofas, o mejor aún, que quebremos esos cánones filosóficos que como dice uno de mis profesores, deben ser forjado en una sala con luz bastante tenue y repleta de hombres occidentales blancos con gafas de sol y trajes negros. Si no eres hombre, blanco y occidental estás fuera de la filosofía, quedas relegado a aquello que conocemos como silencios de la filosofía, que dicen mucho sobre su historia.
Este libro, además de conceptos fundamentales ofrece los datos necesarios para alcanzar la comprensión necesaria de cómo y por qué se efectuó el nacimiento de éstos en su creadora. Ya por la época que se nos narra en este tomo Simone empezó a percatarse de la condición femenina, condición que sin embargo dado la vida que ella había elegido, le era ajena y que por ello tardo en aparecérsela como verdadera.
October 9, 2010
In the second volume of her memoirs, Simone de Beauvoir tells you what it was like to be a young woman living with Sartre. There were many interesting surprises. I hadn't realized what a natural gift for languages he had - there was an incident when someone thought he might be a spy, because his German accent was just too damn good. I hadn't realized either what a lot of fun he was (really! I'm not being ironic!), or that he was so mentally unstable. He had some rather startling delusions about, if I recall correctly, a giant squid...
And that love triangle/ménage à trois with Olga. Was there ever a relationship quite so exhaustively described in literature? You can read about it here, then in fictionalized form in her novel 'Աé, and then in a different fictionalized form in Sartre's novel L'Age de Raison. Some incidents, e.g. the one where he hurts his hand trying to impress her at the nightclub, turn up in all three.
And I still don't properly understand what happened. In fact, if you're the sort of person who buys autobiographies to get the low-down on the author's sex life, I'll warn you now that you aren't going to find out a damn thing. I'm not quite sure why she made that decision.
And that love triangle/ménage à trois with Olga. Was there ever a relationship quite so exhaustively described in literature? You can read about it here, then in fictionalized form in her novel 'Աé, and then in a different fictionalized form in Sartre's novel L'Age de Raison. Some incidents, e.g. the one where he hurts his hand trying to impress her at the nightclub, turn up in all three.
And I still don't properly understand what happened. In fact, if you're the sort of person who buys autobiographies to get the low-down on the author's sex life, I'll warn you now that you aren't going to find out a damn thing. I'm not quite sure why she made that decision.
August 1, 2017
One evening I went to a concert in Rouen, and when I saw the pampered audience all around me, preparing to digest its ration of aesthetic beauty, a feeling of misery swept over me. They were so powerful, there were so many of them: would there ever be an end of their rule? How much longer would they be allowed to believe that they embodied the very highest human values, and to go on moulding their children in their own likeness?I'd forgotten how much of my brain mimicked de Beauvoir's in terms of priorities. Men? Sure, why not. Money? Enough for life and liberty and the passing of knowledge through teaching and creation, but nothing obscene, thank you very much. Thought? Oh, fuck yes. All of this is naturally displaced by chronology and country and unnaturally so by bigotry (antiblackness and transphobia and wh*rephobia and ableism oh my, the last only partially redeemed by
We were never prepared to acknowledge the status which circumstances objectively assigned us.
What were we doing here, staring at them and asking ourselves such questions? There was something insulting about our presence.thought in the midst of a mental asylum) but there's enough for me to jump for the lesser known third and fourth entries in the autobiography tetralogy. I hope someone who's managed to retain their library powers in this Amazon climate compiles this series in a more overtly digitally linked sense, as the drop in number of ratings between the successive works is a travesty. I'm all for going a step further in reading women when it comes to class and sexuality and race and whatnot, but if you have to choose a bourgeois white woman with a man attached to follow, d.B., and to a lesser extent Sartre, are the way to go.
What I lacked was the idea of 'situation', which alone allows one to make some concrete definition of human groups without enslaving them to a tireless and deterministic pattern.For better or worse, I read this long enough after for the memories of an assuredly delightful experience to be subsumed by the disappointment of , so I had to do absurd things like google Zaza to get back into d.B.'s trajectory and all its fixations. Emphasis on the fixations, for if I'm going to read 600 pages about fifteen years of the life of a committed thinker from a first person point of view, I better get an overwhelming amount of self-righteously neurotic yet ethically admirable thought processes, else I'm going to be very cranky. Fortunately, thought processes I got, amidst riots of of travelling and movie-going and dialectic-engaging that I'd be a liar to say I wasn't obscenely jealous of. I've a few consolations such as youth and reaching the next step necessary for my own jumping off processes (enough to consider shelling out for a passport at any rate), as well as having at my fingertips far more rapid interchange of communicated enlightenment, but I'd never lusted for a nineteen mile single day hike till d.B. described her solo tramping forth. Not the worst way to be motivated, to be fair.
Now I reflected that to adapt one's outlook to another person's salvation is the surest and quickest way of losing [the]m.
The career in which Sartre saw his freedom foundering still meant liberation to me.My favorite parts were the ones devoted to d.B's gradual awakening from conscientious solipsism to full commitment to a life that gave her the means of liberty and coupled it to the awareness of those not given the same by random chance as well as to the eternal question: will you do nothing? My least favorite was every time a tart or "animalistic" and associated phraseology were mentioned, or whenever d.B. didn't feel the need to engage with something if Sartre already had or some self-subsuming bad faith, which you'll appreciate the irony of if you're familiar with the terminology. I admit to getting lost when the references and surnames-only came too fast and thick (some footnotes other than the single one at the very end would've been welcome), but what I got was marvelous, especially when it came to translations. I could've used more than a flippant dismissal when it came to Dorothy Richardson and more than a moment of gossip with regards to Simone Weil, but with Hemingway and Kafka and especially Faulkner (I'm serious about writing that d.B./Faulkner essay) opened venues of thinking of writers reading and writing writers. Cameos of Camus and Queneau and Genet and co. were less engaging, but it at least laid the groundwork for future engagements with them. I was completely lost when it came to cinema and only recognized the plays of Sartre when it came to the theatre, but I wouldn't be adverse to going back and searching up what d.B. had to say about them if I happen to stumble across any of the era. I'm not as obsessed with the abstract as d.B., but her delight at slapstick is a hopeful sign.
However attentive the encouragement and advice one receives, writing remains an act for which the responsibility cannot be shared with any other person.
'Anything is preferable to war,' she said, to which Sartre replied: 'No, not anything � not Fascism, for instance.'This review probably would've been longer if I had started out on keyboard rather than paper, but as I'm not in the mood to go on a binge rant about the bigotry, this is a good place to conclude. It's funny how stuck I am on d.B.'s nonfic when her fic has done little to inspire (for example, I actually find it a good thing that she thought her moralizing too obtuse in ), but it seems I prefer that an author's motivations be rendered explicit when it's their philosophy of life that I've come for, so I might as well go to the unconsciously subjective source. Plus, I've yet to get to the stage of the remembrance, and there's nothing I found more annoying than recognizing more of Sartre's work during the course of this novel to the point of contemplating chasing down his (auto)biographies as well. Reading the wiki is staving me off for now (it's hilarious that I treat everything post-WWII as spoilers), but I can't make any promises for the future. Fortunately, d.B.'s freedom to sleep around and Sartre's stances on colonialism and anti-Semitism are powerful motivations, but I can at least promise to let d.B. have her say first.
No one can accept Hitler's peace proposals; but what sort of war will there be instead?
I felt no rancour at this conversation; there was something so ridiculous about their expressions and the way they talked that, for a moment, the whole business of collaboration, Fascism, anti-Semitism, and the rest of it seemed to me a kind of farce, designed to entertain a simple-minded audience. Then, dazedly, I came to my senses again, in the knowledge that they not only could but did cause grave harm to people...It was the very nullity of these people that made them dangerous.
I think about happiness. For me it was, primarily, a privileged way of apprehending the world; and if the world is changing to such a degree that it can no longer be apprehended in this fashion, then happiness loses its importance.
Sometimes I admitted that Sartre was right; but on the other occasions I reflected that words have to murder reality before they can hold it captive, and that the most important aspect of reality � its here-and-now presence � always eludes them.
Read
April 27, 2011After being by the first volume of Simone de Beauvoir's memoirs last September, I knew I had to get to the second installment as soon as possible. Let me just say, it did not disappoint. Covering the years from 1929, when Beauvoir graduated from college and first lived on her own as an adult, through the development of her ideas and interpersonal relationships of the 1930s and into the war years to the liberation of Paris in 1944, La force de l'âge (translated into English as The Prime of Life) is seven hundred pages of densely-packed insight, and a new favorite for me.
In both volumes I've read, what sets Beauvoir's autobiographical writing apart is her concern with both the specific details of her own life at any given time (standard memoir fare), and also with drilling down into the ontological state of being a 5-year-old girl, a 23-year-old intellectual, a 32-year-old novelist, and so on. In éǾ, for example, she describes the gradual process she went through in order to understand the nature of signifier and signified, believing at first that the word "vache" was uniquely and innately bound to the actual cow-object, and only later coming to accept that language and other systems of thought are arbitrarily imposed by humans in order to divide up and make sense of the world around them. Similarly, in La force de l'âge Beauvoir delves into her persistent perception, throughout her 20s, that her own subjectivity and way of being in the world is "true"—the subjectivity of others being a persistent myth which she might believe intellectually but for which she saw little viscerally convincing evidence. She, like so many people in their teens and early twenties, perceives herself at this time as the center of her universe: she is vaguely threatened when she encounters people who cannot be "annexed" to her own circle of friends or way of being, and is frankly incredulous at the idea that any serious catastrophe could ever happen to her. She calls this irrational but stubborn mode of thought her "schizophrenia," and analyzes throughout the book the different ways in which it manifested and developed over the years.
Beauvoir examines the ways in which this "schizophrenic dream" is facilitated by her unacknowledged privilege: the world never seems to deny her the things she really cares about, so she imagines that it is not capable of doing so. Similarly, the deprivations she suffers in the pre-war period (she and Sartre are living paycheck-to-paycheck, without much luxury) are things about which she never cared in the first place, and are more than made up for by the freedoms inherent in the belief that nothing truly bad will happen to her. This ability to live the life that best suits her own nature, in turn engenders a philosophy of extreme individualism in the young Beauvoir: throughout their 20s she and Sartre distrust any political organizations, identifying as liberal intellectuals but limiting themselves to the role of witnesses when, for example, the Front Populaire wins the 1936 elections and institutes the 40-hour work week and paid vacation. Although this complaisance is threatened on a number of occasions and evolves over the years, it isn't until the outbreak of the Second World War that Beauvoir's insularity is truly overturned, and that she accepts on a fundamental level her solidarity with other people, and the uncertainty of all human lives. I know this passage is long, but I find it so beautiful I have to share.
This trajectory from individualism to solidarity is just one thread running through La force de l'âge, and is linked with many more: the need for autonomy and connection; Beauvoir's burgeoning feminism and the ways in which she balances that with her long-term relationship to Jean-Paul Sartre; her fear of and eventual partial acceptance of death, and the ways in which she realizes that catastrophes can happen to her as well as to other people. This is all examined with an intelligence both patient and passionate, and makes Beauvoir's narrative far more memorable than a simple catalog of events.
At the same time, there is also plenty of the kind of thing that makes standard biography and autobiography interesting. Beauvoir chronicles the voyages she and Sartre took all over Europe during the 1930s, traveling in Spain in 1931 (still giddy with the rise of the Second Spanish Republic), Italy in the early 1930s (where they saw their first Fascist), Berlin shortly after Hitler's rise to power, Greece in the late 30s, France's Free Zone during the war. She describes her long backpacking trips in France and elsewhere, in which she takes off alone on foot for weeks at a time, armed with her wine-skin and espadrilles. She writes about the couple's non-traditional romantic arrangements, their decision to eschew legal marriage and monogamy and the struggles and benefits that result from that. The second half of the memoir, which deals with the war years, provides a vivid account of the everyday chaos, uncertainty, shifting moods and sudden devastation of life in Paris during the German occupation.
There are, of course, pages on Beauvoir's and Sartre's famous friends, among them Albert Camus and Alberto Giacommetti. She describes exhaustively the plays and films she saw from year to year, and her reactions to painting, sculpture, and music. Unsurprisingly, she also writes with insight about the books that she and Sartre read and discussed during those years, going into great detail at times about why the work of novelists like Faulkner and Dos Passos was so important to her, both as a writer and as a person. Beauvoir acknowledges beautifully the way in which the discovery of a book can be a pivotal life event.
Of course, she also records her own writing life and that of Sartre, both from an artistic-development standpoint and from a perspective of publishing, critical reception, and political engagement. I look forward to revisiting these passages when I'm more familiar with both of their novels and essays. Even without that familiarity, though, I was impressed with the frankness Beauvoir brings to a discussion of her own work: she is not easy on herself, and in retrospect she finds herself guilty of many serious flaws. At the same time, she does not hesitate to point out the elements which she still, after 20 or more years, finds powerful or effective. She gives the impression of taking herself seriously, but not more seriously than she would any other writer. So too, she examines the ways in which one book lead to the next for her, each one being a reaction to and against its predecessor.
I've spent almost a month with La force de l'âge, and although I am ready to be done with this volume for now, I also feel a tiny bit sad to put it on the shelf; I know it will be one I return to many times in the future. I also feel so lucky to be about to visit Paris and Rouen, where Sartre and Beauvoir lived and taught. I hope to pick up more of her work while I'm there!
In both volumes I've read, what sets Beauvoir's autobiographical writing apart is her concern with both the specific details of her own life at any given time (standard memoir fare), and also with drilling down into the ontological state of being a 5-year-old girl, a 23-year-old intellectual, a 32-year-old novelist, and so on. In éǾ, for example, she describes the gradual process she went through in order to understand the nature of signifier and signified, believing at first that the word "vache" was uniquely and innately bound to the actual cow-object, and only later coming to accept that language and other systems of thought are arbitrarily imposed by humans in order to divide up and make sense of the world around them. Similarly, in La force de l'âge Beauvoir delves into her persistent perception, throughout her 20s, that her own subjectivity and way of being in the world is "true"—the subjectivity of others being a persistent myth which she might believe intellectually but for which she saw little viscerally convincing evidence. She, like so many people in their teens and early twenties, perceives herself at this time as the center of her universe: she is vaguely threatened when she encounters people who cannot be "annexed" to her own circle of friends or way of being, and is frankly incredulous at the idea that any serious catastrophe could ever happen to her. She calls this irrational but stubborn mode of thought her "schizophrenia," and analyzes throughout the book the different ways in which it manifested and developed over the years.
Ainsi, nos aînés nous interdisaient-ils d'envisager qu'une guerre fût seulement possible. Sartre avait trop d'imagination, et trop encline à l'horreur, pour respecter tout à fait cette consigne; des visions le traversaient dont certaines ont marqué La Nausée: des villes en émeute, tous les rideaux de fer tirés, du sang aux carrefours et sur la mayonnaise des charcuteries. Moi, je poursuivais avec entrain mon rêve de schizophrène. Le monde existait, à la manière d'un objet aux replis innombrables et dont la découverte serait toujours une aventure, mais non comme un champ de forces capables de me contrarier.
Also, our elders forbade us to envisage that a war was even possible. Sartre had too much imagination, and that too inclined to horror, to respect this ban completely; visions passed through his mind of which some featured in Nausea: cities in a state of riot, all the shop gates pulled down, blood in the intersections and in the butcher's mayonnaise. Me, I continued cheerfully in my schizophrenic dream. The world existed, in the manner of an object with innumerable folds whose discovery would always be an adventure, but not as a force field capable of thwarting me.
Beauvoir examines the ways in which this "schizophrenic dream" is facilitated by her unacknowledged privilege: the world never seems to deny her the things she really cares about, so she imagines that it is not capable of doing so. Similarly, the deprivations she suffers in the pre-war period (she and Sartre are living paycheck-to-paycheck, without much luxury) are things about which she never cared in the first place, and are more than made up for by the freedoms inherent in the belief that nothing truly bad will happen to her. This ability to live the life that best suits her own nature, in turn engenders a philosophy of extreme individualism in the young Beauvoir: throughout their 20s she and Sartre distrust any political organizations, identifying as liberal intellectuals but limiting themselves to the role of witnesses when, for example, the Front Populaire wins the 1936 elections and institutes the 40-hour work week and paid vacation. Although this complaisance is threatened on a number of occasions and evolves over the years, it isn't until the outbreak of the Second World War that Beauvoir's insularity is truly overturned, and that she accepts on a fundamental level her solidarity with other people, and the uncertainty of all human lives. I know this passage is long, but I find it so beautiful I have to share.
[N]on seulement la guerre avait changé mes rapports à tout, mais elle avait tout changé: les ciels de Paris et les villages de Bretagne, la bouche des femmes, les yeux des enfants. Après juin 1940, je ne reconnus plus les choses, ni les gens, ni les heures, ni les lieux, ni moi-même. Le temps, qui pendant dix ans avait tourné sur place, brusquement bougeait, il m'entraînait: sans quitter les rues de Paris, je me trouvais plus dépaysée qu'après avoir franchi des mers, autrefois. Aussi naïve qu'un enfant qui croit à la verticale absolue, j'avais pensé que la vérité du monde était fixe... [...]
Quel malentendu! J'avais vécu non pas un fragment d'éternité mais une période transitoire: l'avant-guerre. [...] La victoire même n'allait pas renverser le temps et ressusciter un ordre provisoirement dérangée; elle ouvrait une nouvelle époque: l'après-guerre. Aucun brin d'herbe, dans aucun pré, ni sous aucun de mes regards, ne redeviendrait jamais ce qu'il avait été. L'éphémère était mon lot. Et l'Histoire charriait pêle-mêle, avec des moments glorieux, un énorme fatras de douleurs sans remède.
Not only had the war changed my relationship with everything, but it had changed everything: the skies of Paris and the villages of Brittany, the mouths of women, the eyes of children. After June 1940, I no longer recognized things, or people, or hours, or places, or myself. Time, which for ten years had revolved in place, suddenly moved, and carried me away: without leaving the streets of Paris, I found myself more disoriented than I had been after crossing the seas in former times. Naive as a child who believes in the absolute vertical, I had thought that the truth of the world was fixed ... [...]
What a misunderstanding! I had lived through, not a fragment of eternity, but a transitory era: the pre-war. [...] Even victory would not reverse time and restore some provisionally disarranged order; it would begin a new era: the post-war. No blade of grass, in any field, under any gaze of mine, would ever return to what it was. The ephemeral was my lot. And History barreled along pell-mell, with glorious moments, an immense jumble of grief with no cure.
This trajectory from individualism to solidarity is just one thread running through La force de l'âge, and is linked with many more: the need for autonomy and connection; Beauvoir's burgeoning feminism and the ways in which she balances that with her long-term relationship to Jean-Paul Sartre; her fear of and eventual partial acceptance of death, and the ways in which she realizes that catastrophes can happen to her as well as to other people. This is all examined with an intelligence both patient and passionate, and makes Beauvoir's narrative far more memorable than a simple catalog of events.
At the same time, there is also plenty of the kind of thing that makes standard biography and autobiography interesting. Beauvoir chronicles the voyages she and Sartre took all over Europe during the 1930s, traveling in Spain in 1931 (still giddy with the rise of the Second Spanish Republic), Italy in the early 1930s (where they saw their first Fascist), Berlin shortly after Hitler's rise to power, Greece in the late 30s, France's Free Zone during the war. She describes her long backpacking trips in France and elsewhere, in which she takes off alone on foot for weeks at a time, armed with her wine-skin and espadrilles. She writes about the couple's non-traditional romantic arrangements, their decision to eschew legal marriage and monogamy and the struggles and benefits that result from that. The second half of the memoir, which deals with the war years, provides a vivid account of the everyday chaos, uncertainty, shifting moods and sudden devastation of life in Paris during the German occupation.
There are, of course, pages on Beauvoir's and Sartre's famous friends, among them Albert Camus and Alberto Giacommetti. She describes exhaustively the plays and films she saw from year to year, and her reactions to painting, sculpture, and music. Unsurprisingly, she also writes with insight about the books that she and Sartre read and discussed during those years, going into great detail at times about why the work of novelists like Faulkner and Dos Passos was so important to her, both as a writer and as a person. Beauvoir acknowledges beautifully the way in which the discovery of a book can be a pivotal life event.
Of course, she also records her own writing life and that of Sartre, both from an artistic-development standpoint and from a perspective of publishing, critical reception, and political engagement. I look forward to revisiting these passages when I'm more familiar with both of their novels and essays. Even without that familiarity, though, I was impressed with the frankness Beauvoir brings to a discussion of her own work: she is not easy on herself, and in retrospect she finds herself guilty of many serious flaws. At the same time, she does not hesitate to point out the elements which she still, after 20 or more years, finds powerful or effective. She gives the impression of taking herself seriously, but not more seriously than she would any other writer. So too, she examines the ways in which one book lead to the next for her, each one being a reaction to and against its predecessor.
I've spent almost a month with La force de l'âge, and although I am ready to be done with this volume for now, I also feel a tiny bit sad to put it on the shelf; I know it will be one I return to many times in the future. I also feel so lucky to be about to visit Paris and Rouen, where Sartre and Beauvoir lived and taught. I hope to pick up more of her work while I'm there!
May 12, 2019
god i love beauvoir so much
(mon avis complet : )
(mon avis complet : )
July 18, 2021
By the end of the first volume of her memoirs, de Beauvoir has decided what she doesn't want to be--a dutiful daughter of the French bourgeoisie. The second volume is about what she decides to become instead--a writer, a thinker, an explorer of the physical and intellectual world, a participant in the vibrant cultural and intellectual life of Paris, a woman who constructs a set of values by which she can live to replace the ones she has rejected. During the '30s she's almost entirely focussed on her own life and activities, unengaged with the increasingly worrying politics around her. Later, she realises she ought to have paid more attention and comes to feel that her comfortable disengagement has made her complicit with some things she finds abhorrent. Once war breaks out and the Nazis move into Paris, disengagement from politics is no longer possible, of course, and she has to rethink her sense of who she is in the world in the light of these changed realities.
I found the early sections of this book a bit slow, at least in comparison to how much I enjoyed every word of the first volume; most of what she and Sartre do in their 20s is talk. And talk and talk and talk. They talk about interesting things, of course, but their talk doesn't really go anywhere. They were earnest young intellectuals who thought everything could be sorted out through discourse, as earnest university students and intellectuals often still do. As the world gets more complicated around her and she realises that talk isn't enough (and grows out of that idealistic, earnest young intellectual phase), I found this book more and more compelling.
I found the early sections of this book a bit slow, at least in comparison to how much I enjoyed every word of the first volume; most of what she and Sartre do in their 20s is talk. And talk and talk and talk. They talk about interesting things, of course, but their talk doesn't really go anywhere. They were earnest young intellectuals who thought everything could be sorted out through discourse, as earnest university students and intellectuals often still do. As the world gets more complicated around her and she realises that talk isn't enough (and grows out of that idealistic, earnest young intellectual phase), I found this book more and more compelling.
March 12, 2021
4,5
Solitamente inizio le recensioni dei libri con la frase che mi ha colpito di più, ma in questo caso è stato impossibile. Questa biografia è ricca di frasi stimolanti, che invitano il lettore alla riflessione, e sceglierne soltanto una non è possibile.
Questo libro mi è piaciuto molto, nonostante la sua lunghezza la lettura è sempre scorrevole e anche i passaggi filosofici sono facilmente comprensibili. Molto consigliato. Leggerò sicuramente altro di questa autrice.
Solitamente inizio le recensioni dei libri con la frase che mi ha colpito di più, ma in questo caso è stato impossibile. Questa biografia è ricca di frasi stimolanti, che invitano il lettore alla riflessione, e sceglierne soltanto una non è possibile.
Questo libro mi è piaciuto molto, nonostante la sua lunghezza la lettura è sempre scorrevole e anche i passaggi filosofici sono facilmente comprensibili. Molto consigliato. Leggerò sicuramente altro di questa autrice.
December 4, 2015
The Prime of Life is Simone de Beauvoir's memoirs of her 20's and 30's in the pre-war and then occupied France until the liberation of Paris in 1944. She recollects her youth with Sartre and the bohemian circle of friends they were a part of. I found her style of writing very appealing - it is honest and simple, but there is also dignity in it that perhaps precludes her from writing too directly about her friends. She never claims to be a higher moral authority and there is little to no judgment in her stories about her young self and others.
Simone de Beauvoir is considered a mother of modern feminism, but this book has little of her views on it. Instead one can glimplse her philosophy in the way she lived and recollected her youth. When one considers the social conventions of her time, it becomes clear that her choice not to marry or live with a man, not to have children, to travel on her own through Europe, to remain independent both emotionally and financially required considerable courage. She does not seem burdened by the judgments of others, at least not as much as can be glimpsed in her writing.
I found her descriptions of travels through Europe particularly charming - she would put any backpacker and budget traveler to shame in 2015. She recollects sleeping in sheds and haystacks and on hotel roofs to cut down the expenses, hiking for miles to get to the next town, and spending all of her money so that she'd have nothing to buy a morsel of food with. She traveled with friends, acquaintances, and on her own on trains, buses, cars, bicycles and on foot carrying a simple rucksack and wearing cloth espadrilles to see places as they are, without the glamor of touristic attraction. She seems to have found cities, villages, treks through hills and mountains equally fascinating.
Equally engrossing are her tales of friendships with Sartre, and their close circle of friends, including Olga who became both her and Sartre's lover. Although de Beauvoir is not blunt on this subject, she does talk about the emotions that all three of them experienced, albeit somewhat indirectly. She also describes her relationships with some of her students and others who were close to her in one manner or another. I found the interludes about theatrical performances, books, and movies of the time hard to connect to, so I skipped over some of them. They made me realize that certain instances of art lose relevance very quickly, but it is almost impossible to tell which ones will remain in people's collective memory. The authors she mentioned were mostly unfamiliar to me, let alone the actors or performers of the time.
She does write directly about feminism in a few places, one in particular stuck with me where she talks about the misconceptions about her novel The Second Sex. I think this quote sheds light on one of the main misunderstandings in feminism: what equality of men and women means. "... Have I ever written that women were the same as men? Have I ever claimed that I, personally, was not a woman? On the contrary, my main purpose has been to isolate and identify my own particular brand of femininity. (...) I did not deny my femininity any more than I took it for granted: I simply ignored it. I had the same freedoms and responsibilities as men did."
The book is a long read, but I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the intellectual society during some of the most turbulent years of 20th century.
Simone de Beauvoir is considered a mother of modern feminism, but this book has little of her views on it. Instead one can glimplse her philosophy in the way she lived and recollected her youth. When one considers the social conventions of her time, it becomes clear that her choice not to marry or live with a man, not to have children, to travel on her own through Europe, to remain independent both emotionally and financially required considerable courage. She does not seem burdened by the judgments of others, at least not as much as can be glimpsed in her writing.
I found her descriptions of travels through Europe particularly charming - she would put any backpacker and budget traveler to shame in 2015. She recollects sleeping in sheds and haystacks and on hotel roofs to cut down the expenses, hiking for miles to get to the next town, and spending all of her money so that she'd have nothing to buy a morsel of food with. She traveled with friends, acquaintances, and on her own on trains, buses, cars, bicycles and on foot carrying a simple rucksack and wearing cloth espadrilles to see places as they are, without the glamor of touristic attraction. She seems to have found cities, villages, treks through hills and mountains equally fascinating.
Equally engrossing are her tales of friendships with Sartre, and their close circle of friends, including Olga who became both her and Sartre's lover. Although de Beauvoir is not blunt on this subject, she does talk about the emotions that all three of them experienced, albeit somewhat indirectly. She also describes her relationships with some of her students and others who were close to her in one manner or another. I found the interludes about theatrical performances, books, and movies of the time hard to connect to, so I skipped over some of them. They made me realize that certain instances of art lose relevance very quickly, but it is almost impossible to tell which ones will remain in people's collective memory. The authors she mentioned were mostly unfamiliar to me, let alone the actors or performers of the time.
She does write directly about feminism in a few places, one in particular stuck with me where she talks about the misconceptions about her novel The Second Sex. I think this quote sheds light on one of the main misunderstandings in feminism: what equality of men and women means. "... Have I ever written that women were the same as men? Have I ever claimed that I, personally, was not a woman? On the contrary, my main purpose has been to isolate and identify my own particular brand of femininity. (...) I did not deny my femininity any more than I took it for granted: I simply ignored it. I had the same freedoms and responsibilities as men did."
The book is a long read, but I highly recommend it to anyone interested in the intellectual society during some of the most turbulent years of 20th century.
July 21, 2024
این زن خیلی معمولیه و در عین حال برام شگفت انگیزه!
در رابطه با گیراییش همین بس که بی وقفه خوندمش و احساس می‌کن� با دوبووار زندگی کردم، در پیش پا افتاده ترین لحظات و مهم ترین وقایع قرن مثل جنگ جهانی در کنارش بودم و رشد کردن یک نویسنده و فیلسوف رو گویی از نزدیک شاهد بودم.
سیمون برای من مثل یک معلم تاثیرگذار و الگوی ادبی می‌مونه� آدمی که از نوجوونی تصمیم گرفت کتاب بنویسه و بلاخره در سی سالگی بعد از سالها تلاش و ناکامی موفق شد. جلد دوم هم مثل جلد اول دوست داشتنی بود.
پیش به‌سو� جلد سوم.
در رابطه با گیراییش همین بس که بی وقفه خوندمش و احساس می‌کن� با دوبووار زندگی کردم، در پیش پا افتاده ترین لحظات و مهم ترین وقایع قرن مثل جنگ جهانی در کنارش بودم و رشد کردن یک نویسنده و فیلسوف رو گویی از نزدیک شاهد بودم.
سیمون برای من مثل یک معلم تاثیرگذار و الگوی ادبی می‌مونه� آدمی که از نوجوونی تصمیم گرفت کتاب بنویسه و بلاخره در سی سالگی بعد از سالها تلاش و ناکامی موفق شد. جلد دوم هم مثل جلد اول دوست داشتنی بود.
پیش به‌سو� جلد سوم.
July 5, 2017
تابستون ۹۱ خودم رو غرق کردم تو خاطرات دوبوار؛ کتاب بالینی به معنای واقعی کلمه. جلد یک برای من کمی خسته‌کنند� بود، شاید چون زیادی هول داشتم که سارتر هم وارد داستان بشه. جلد دو و سه رو ولی زندگی کردم؛ گاهی باهاش امیدوار شدم و گاهی پژمرده. تو این پنج سال هی می‌ر� گاهی سرک می کشم به جاهایی که خط کشیدم زیرشون، خاطرات خودم و دوبوار رو مرور می‌کن�...
September 12, 2016
I love Simone, but this second diary lacks the moral conflict that made the first one such a great read....it actually lacks any conflict or psichological depth at all. It seems she removed most of the personal info regarding her interactions with Sartre and all relathionship-related inner conflicts (because please... I can't believe they had 10 years of perfect relationship, no silly daylly or more serious conflicts at all...like the subject of Olga is treated in a really rational way...no feelings exposed....) thus transforming this diary in a more or less plain inventory of their journeys, work places, friends, cafes/museums visited, books read and movies seen. This recreates very beautifully the era she lived in, witch I liked reading about, but also made me loose touch with her evolution as a person and made the whole read very impersonal ... artificial ... as if she was talking about someone else's life.
October 23, 2022
Le genre des mémoires est fascinant pour sa façon de conjuguer l’Histoire avec l’histoire, mettant souvent la première au second plan afin de s’attarder sur l’expérience individuelle et la subjectivité de la personne écrivant. Ici, une écrivaine, philosophe et femme. J’ai pris beaucoup de plaisir à lire les descriptions de ses pensées, explications, chemins de pensées sur diverses situations. Sa description des rapports humains, avec évolution des sentiments et rapports qu’elle a pu avoir au cours de ses années. De même que la construction de sa philosophie (et celle de Sartre), leurs rencontres et conversations tout en saisissant un fragment d’Histoire autour de Cocteau, Leiris, Genet, Camus et tous les autres. Il y a aussi beaucoup d’honnêteté intellectuelle dans sa démarche explicative et ses cheminements sur le fait d’écrire étaient assez parlants.
Beaucoup de très belles phrases et tournures qui m’ont happé. Je reviendrai probablement à ce tome de ses mémoires pour les souligner.
Beaucoup de très belles phrases et tournures qui m’ont happé. Je reviendrai probablement à ce tome de ses mémoires pour les souligner.
July 21, 2015
Apart from the fact that it is always fascinating to read about the life of a writer, especially if it's an autobiography (and, in this case, you get so much more than just Simone's life), and that the book mainly covers the years before and during WWII in Paris (fascinating read), the book is so well written and describes such an array of different things that I felt from the very first moment that this would be one of my favourite books ever, and so it is. Simone led a very interesting life, especially for a woman at the time, and had a fascinating personality. I was particularly surprised about how neutral she and Sartre remained politically speaking for quite a long time. It is a long book and I agree that there are plenty of descriptions of people and works of art from the time but it is so worth at least one read.
May 21, 2024
La scrittrice e filosofa de Beauvoir si immerge negli anni che l’hanno vista crescere e maturare come individuo. Dopo “Memorie di una ragazza perbene�, è decisa a indagare quella conquistata libertà che l’aveva inebriata al termine degli studi.
Al termine della sua vita scolastica, infatti, de Beauvoir si lascia alle spalle il soffocante ambiente borghese nel quale è cresciuta � all’interno del quale è stata costretta a reprimere i suoi istinti, i suoi desideri, i suoi pensieri più intimi, � e si lascia completamente assorbire dall’inaspettata e intossicante libertà che si può respirare al di là di quelle cupe mura domestiche.
Insieme a Sartre, inizia la sua vita di donna e scrittrice nella dimensione parigina che precede gli anni della seconda guerra mondiale. Una vita fatta di stanze d’albergo ammobiliate, vagabondaggi per Parigi, scarpinate per la Francia e lunghi viaggi per l’Europa: dalla Spagna alla Grecia, fino ai paesaggi pittoreschi dell’Italia.
Pur rinnegando i valori piccolo borghesi nei quali entrambi sono cresciuti, le esistenze di de Beauvoir e Sartre non hanno nulla di bohémien, se non il disperato parossismo col quale la scrittrice francese si sforza di convincere sé stessa, il lettore e la comunità di amici e conoscenti che la circonda.
Continua a leggere qui:
Al termine della sua vita scolastica, infatti, de Beauvoir si lascia alle spalle il soffocante ambiente borghese nel quale è cresciuta � all’interno del quale è stata costretta a reprimere i suoi istinti, i suoi desideri, i suoi pensieri più intimi, � e si lascia completamente assorbire dall’inaspettata e intossicante libertà che si può respirare al di là di quelle cupe mura domestiche.
Insieme a Sartre, inizia la sua vita di donna e scrittrice nella dimensione parigina che precede gli anni della seconda guerra mondiale. Una vita fatta di stanze d’albergo ammobiliate, vagabondaggi per Parigi, scarpinate per la Francia e lunghi viaggi per l’Europa: dalla Spagna alla Grecia, fino ai paesaggi pittoreschi dell’Italia.
Pur rinnegando i valori piccolo borghesi nei quali entrambi sono cresciuti, le esistenze di de Beauvoir e Sartre non hanno nulla di bohémien, se non il disperato parossismo col quale la scrittrice francese si sforza di convincere sé stessa, il lettore e la comunità di amici e conoscenti che la circonda.
Continua a leggere qui:
December 4, 2023
"لقد تورمت الحياة وباتت تضايقني: لكن، كيف السبيل للعيش في ليل هذه الغرفة وسط مدينة مُقفلة؟ أضأتُ النور، تمددت وكتبتُ هذه الأسطر. كتبتُ مقدمة هذا الكتاب الذي هو بياني ضد الموت".
الأسطر السابقة مقتطعة من خاتمة هذا الكتاب الذي يمثل ترجمة ثاني كتب السيرة الذاتية للفيلسوفة الوجودية الفرنسية المولودة عام 1908/ سيمون دو بوفوار - وهو عن حياتها وتجاربها منذ بداية علاقتها بسارتر أبان بلوغها عمر ال21 عاما، وحتى مناهزتها لعمر 36 عاما متوافقا مع تحرير باريس من الاحتلال النازي لها عام 1944.
تم نشر الكتاب الأصلي باللغة الفرنسية عام 1960، عندما كانت المؤلفة بعمر 52عاما، ولذلك فقد احتوى الكتاب خلفيات تطورها فكريا وأدبيا وتجربتها الحياتية، وكذلك ظروف تأليفها مع تقييمها لأول ثلاثة كتب أصدرتها: (رواية "الضيفة" أو "المدعوة" التي نشرتها عام 1943 عندما كان عمرها 35 عاما)، وكتاب (بحث/حكاية: "بايروس وسينيز" الذي نشرته عام 1944 عندما كان عمرها 36 عاما، ونُشرت ترجمته للعربية بقلم المفكر/ جورج طرابيشي، بعنوان: "مغامرة الإنسان")، ورواية "دماء الآخرين" التي نشرتها عام 1945 عندما كان عمرها 37 عاما.
كما احتوى الكتاب على تفاصيل ممتعة عن رحلاتها مع سارتر إلى أنحاء متعددة من أوروبا، وعن تفاعل المجتمع الفرنسي مع الظروف السياسية التي واكبت نشوب الحرب العالمية الثانية، وحياة وفكر مجتمعها وفنونه وآدابه ومواقف مثقفيه وقت احتلال النازيين لباريس ولمعظم أراضي فرنسا ثم طردهم منها.
وقد احتوى الكتاب على تفاصيل ومواقف عديدة حصلت لها مع سارتر، ومواقف حصلت له أو منه، ولم أكن لأصدقها لولا أن الكتاب الأصلي منشور في فترة حياة سارتر، وقبل عقدين من وفاته، وكذلك فقد احتوى الكتاب رأيها في العديد من الأمور التي كانت تحيط بها، وتقلبات أحوالها؛
واقترح البدء بقراءة ما ورد بالصفحات 122، 123 و 124، من سردها لبعض ذكرياتها التي أدت بها إلى فهم طبيعة الإنسان والسعي للدفاع عن حريته، مع المطالبة بإدانة أداء دور الأيتام، وإدانة العبودية وكل "تلك المنظومة المرعبة التي ما تنفك تصنع المجانين والقتلة والوحوش، والتي يُعتبر القائمون عليها أناسا طيبون"؛
واقترح كذلك أيضا استفتتاح قراءة الكتاب بالتعرف على مشاهداتها في زيارتها في حدود عام 1935، لمأوى المرضى النفسيين في باريس (من الصفحة 230 إلى نهاية الصفحة 233)؛
في الصفحات المذكورة التي اقترحت البدء بقراءتها الكثير من المشاعر والحِكم والمواقف التي تزيدنا معرفة بخلفيات ودواخل المجتمع الفرنسي في تلك الأيام، وكذلك على جوانب من شخصية المؤلفة التي يُستشف من من قراءة كتب سيرتها الذاتية (بما في ذلك السابق لهذا الكتاب وكذلك اللاحقة له) - تمتع المؤلفة بالجرأة والمصداقية والتواضع وذلك مع ربطها لقدَرها مع قدَر الجميع، واهتمامها بحرية البشر وسعادتهم، وكراهيتها لكل ما يتسبب في اضطهادهم وشقائهم .. هذه المؤلفة التي قد يظلمها البعض بأن يختزلها في علاقاتها "المستهجنة" التي كانت في حياتها الخاصة، أو بوصفها بالمتمردة !
يشير عنوان الكتاب: (قوة العمر) - إلى المرحلة العمرية التي تحدثت فيه مؤلفته عن حياتها وذكرياتها، وهي مرحلة كما وصفها المترجم في كتاب لاحق عن سيرة هذه الفيلسوفة: "سن الشباب الذي يتميز بالفرص والحظوظ والطاقة وتلمّس الطريق من خلال التجارب، سن فيه رحلة الفضول والحقل الذي تُزهر فيه الأحلام وتلوح فيه الاختيارات المصيرية مترددة وخجولة، سن يجمع بين المتناقضين: الاندفاع وبناء الكينونة".
صورة الغلاف أعلاه، للطبعة الأولى التي أصدرتها دار المدى عام 2021 بترجمة محمد فطومي متضمنة 525 صفحة .. وهذه ليست الترجمة العربية الأولى لهذا الكتاب، فقد سبقتها ترجمة مختصرة له تمت قبل عقود، قامت بها/ عايدة مطرجي إدريس، ونشرتها بعنوان: "أنا وسارتر والحياة"، وسبقتها أيضا ترجمة منشورة بعنوان "عنفوان الحياة".
........................................................................
تعليقي على الكتاب:-
كتاب ممتع فيه الكثير من الحكمة والفوائد ومعرفة كيف تصرفت بعض المجتمعات أثناء الحرب ثم الوقوع تحت الاحتلال لمدة سنوات قليلة، وجدت مشقة في قراءته ربما بعضها بسبب خصوصية الترجمة من اللغة الفرنسية، ولكن أيضا لاستخدام المترجم لبعض الكلمات ولأسماء الشهور حسب الدارج في وطنه بالمغرب العربي، وكذلك لأسلوب المؤلفة في سرد بعض الأحداث كاملة، مما يتسبب في التناوب بين الأزمنة والمراوحة بينها (ماضي وحاضر ومستقبل)؛
وفضلا عن ذلك كله: تكرار الحاجة للاستعلام عن الأسماء والأحداث والاتفاقيات السياسية التي وردت فيه، وذلك لخلو الكتاب من أي هوامش توضيحية، رغم ضرورة ذلك لمضي أكثر من ستة عقود على نشر الكتاب الفرنسي .. وقد وجدت خلو الكتاب من الهوامش معيبا خاصة مع وجود عدة ترجمات عربية لكتب السيرة الذاتية لنفس المؤلفة، وكان بها هوامش توضيحية رغم أن منها ما صدر قبله بعقود كثيرة وفي وقت وجود المؤلفة على قيد الحياة، ولهذا فقد قيمت الكتاب بثلاثة نجوم فقط - علما بأنه قد تم إدراج الهوامش التي كانت في الكتاب الأصلي ضمن سياق نص هذا الكتاب المترجم، وذلك بين قوسين( .. ).
ختاما، ورغم المشقة التي وجدتها في قراءة الكتاب، والمدة الزمنية الطويلة التي تطلبها ذلك، إلا أني وجدت فيه متعة كبيرة لا ينغصها إلا أني قد أكملت قراءته وأن علي الانتقال لقراءة كتاب آخر !
الأسطر السابقة مقتطعة من خاتمة هذا الكتاب الذي يمثل ترجمة ثاني كتب السيرة الذاتية للفيلسوفة الوجودية الفرنسية المولودة عام 1908/ سيمون دو بوفوار - وهو عن حياتها وتجاربها منذ بداية علاقتها بسارتر أبان بلوغها عمر ال21 عاما، وحتى مناهزتها لعمر 36 عاما متوافقا مع تحرير باريس من الاحتلال النازي لها عام 1944.
تم نشر الكتاب الأصلي باللغة الفرنسية عام 1960، عندما كانت المؤلفة بعمر 52عاما، ولذلك فقد احتوى الكتاب خلفيات تطورها فكريا وأدبيا وتجربتها الحياتية، وكذلك ظروف تأليفها مع تقييمها لأول ثلاثة كتب أصدرتها: (رواية "الضيفة" أو "المدعوة" التي نشرتها عام 1943 عندما كان عمرها 35 عاما)، وكتاب (بحث/حكاية: "بايروس وسينيز" الذي نشرته عام 1944 عندما كان عمرها 36 عاما، ونُشرت ترجمته للعربية بقلم المفكر/ جورج طرابيشي، بعنوان: "مغامرة الإنسان")، ورواية "دماء الآخرين" التي نشرتها عام 1945 عندما كان عمرها 37 عاما.
كما احتوى الكتاب على تفاصيل ممتعة عن رحلاتها مع سارتر إلى أنحاء متعددة من أوروبا، وعن تفاعل المجتمع الفرنسي مع الظروف السياسية التي واكبت نشوب الحرب العالمية الثانية، وحياة وفكر مجتمعها وفنونه وآدابه ومواقف مثقفيه وقت احتلال النازيين لباريس ولمعظم أراضي فرنسا ثم طردهم منها.
وقد احتوى الكتاب على تفاصيل ومواقف عديدة حصلت لها مع سارتر، ومواقف حصلت له أو منه، ولم أكن لأصدقها لولا أن الكتاب الأصلي منشور في فترة حياة سارتر، وقبل عقدين من وفاته، وكذلك فقد احتوى الكتاب رأيها في العديد من الأمور التي كانت تحيط بها، وتقلبات أحوالها؛
واقترح البدء بقراءة ما ورد بالصفحات 122، 123 و 124، من سردها لبعض ذكرياتها التي أدت بها إلى فهم طبيعة الإنسان والسعي للدفاع عن حريته، مع المطالبة بإدانة أداء دور الأيتام، وإدانة العبودية وكل "تلك المنظومة المرعبة التي ما تنفك تصنع المجانين والقتلة والوحوش، والتي يُعتبر القائمون عليها أناسا طيبون"؛
واقترح كذلك أيضا استفتتاح قراءة الكتاب بالتعرف على مشاهداتها في زيارتها في حدود عام 1935، لمأوى المرضى النفسيين في باريس (من الصفحة 230 إلى نهاية الصفحة 233)؛
في الصفحات المذكورة التي اقترحت البدء بقراءتها الكثير من المشاعر والحِكم والمواقف التي تزيدنا معرفة بخلفيات ودواخل المجتمع الفرنسي في تلك الأيام، وكذلك على جوانب من شخصية المؤلفة التي يُستشف من من قراءة كتب سيرتها الذاتية (بما في ذلك السابق لهذا الكتاب وكذلك اللاحقة له) - تمتع المؤلفة بالجرأة والمصداقية والتواضع وذلك مع ربطها لقدَرها مع قدَر الجميع، واهتمامها بحرية البشر وسعادتهم، وكراهيتها لكل ما يتسبب في اضطهادهم وشقائهم .. هذه المؤلفة التي قد يظلمها البعض بأن يختزلها في علاقاتها "المستهجنة" التي كانت في حياتها الخاصة، أو بوصفها بالمتمردة !
يشير عنوان الكتاب: (قوة العمر) - إلى المرحلة العمرية التي تحدثت فيه مؤلفته عن حياتها وذكرياتها، وهي مرحلة كما وصفها المترجم في كتاب لاحق عن سيرة هذه الفيلسوفة: "سن الشباب الذي يتميز بالفرص والحظوظ والطاقة وتلمّس الطريق من خلال التجارب، سن فيه رحلة الفضول والحقل الذي تُزهر فيه الأحلام وتلوح فيه الاختيارات المصيرية مترددة وخجولة، سن يجمع بين المتناقضين: الاندفاع وبناء الكينونة".
صورة الغلاف أعلاه، للطبعة الأولى التي أصدرتها دار المدى عام 2021 بترجمة محمد فطومي متضمنة 525 صفحة .. وهذه ليست الترجمة العربية الأولى لهذا الكتاب، فقد سبقتها ترجمة مختصرة له تمت قبل عقود، قامت بها/ عايدة مطرجي إدريس، ونشرتها بعنوان: "أنا وسارتر والحياة"، وسبقتها أيضا ترجمة منشورة بعنوان "عنفوان الحياة".
........................................................................
تعليقي على الكتاب:-
كتاب ممتع فيه الكثير من الحكمة والفوائد ومعرفة كيف تصرفت بعض المجتمعات أثناء الحرب ثم الوقوع تحت الاحتلال لمدة سنوات قليلة، وجدت مشقة في قراءته ربما بعضها بسبب خصوصية الترجمة من اللغة الفرنسية، ولكن أيضا لاستخدام المترجم لبعض الكلمات ولأسماء الشهور حسب الدارج في وطنه بالمغرب العربي، وكذلك لأسلوب المؤلفة في سرد بعض الأحداث كاملة، مما يتسبب في التناوب بين الأزمنة والمراوحة بينها (ماضي وحاضر ومستقبل)؛
وفضلا عن ذلك كله: تكرار الحاجة للاستعلام عن الأسماء والأحداث والاتفاقيات السياسية التي وردت فيه، وذلك لخلو الكتاب من أي هوامش توضيحية، رغم ضرورة ذلك لمضي أكثر من ستة عقود على نشر الكتاب الفرنسي .. وقد وجدت خلو الكتاب من الهوامش معيبا خاصة مع وجود عدة ترجمات عربية لكتب السيرة الذاتية لنفس المؤلفة، وكان بها هوامش توضيحية رغم أن منها ما صدر قبله بعقود كثيرة وفي وقت وجود المؤلفة على قيد الحياة، ولهذا فقد قيمت الكتاب بثلاثة نجوم فقط - علما بأنه قد تم إدراج الهوامش التي كانت في الكتاب الأصلي ضمن سياق نص هذا الكتاب المترجم، وذلك بين قوسين( .. ).
ختاما، ورغم المشقة التي وجدتها في قراءة الكتاب، والمدة الزمنية الطويلة التي تطلبها ذلك، إلا أني وجدت فيه متعة كبيرة لا ينغصها إلا أني قد أكملت قراءته وأن علي الانتقال لقراءة كتاب آخر !
March 22, 2020
Je me fais cadeau des 100 dernières pages, je pense lui avoir donné sa chance. Je ne voulais pas trop croire ce que disaient les hommes sur Simone de Beauvoir alors j'ai décidé de lire comment elle racontait son histoire.
Disons qu'après près de 500 pages de nombrilisme androcentré bourgeois et intellectuello-bouillie à mourir, sans qu'elle ne revienne une seule fois sur sa ridicule obsession sur Sartre (qui la traite de schizophrène d'ailleurs), ni sur le fait qu'il veuille coucher avec toutes les élèves avec lesquelles Beauvoir se lit d'amitié (ce "trio" dégueulasse où elle se refuse à parler de l'emprise sexuelle de Sartre sur ces jeunes femmes qui l'aimaient elle en premier lieu), ni sur le fait qu'elle est capable de marcher des heures sous le cagnard sans boire CAR elle n'écoute pas son corps ni ses besoins, ni même sur le fait qu'elle n'utilise plus le pronom "je" une seule fois parce qu'elle "est si heureuse de sentir son existence validée par un homme qui lui paraît supérieur" -o-, qu'elle écrit des phrases du style "plus d'hommes dans les rues, j'ai cru que ma vie s'arrêterait" ou parlant toujours des années 39-45 "après des mois passés avec des femmes, retrouver une amitié masculine était incroyable", je me suis: cette femme, une icône du féminisme ? Moi, lesbienne et féministe, continuer à lire ces mémoires ? Ce n'est pas possible.
Elle est la preuve même qu'une femme incroyablement intelligente, avec une belle plume (c'est d'ailleurs son style qui m'a permis de continuer notamment quand elle décrit ses voyages et sa vie quand elle est sans Sartre) et une force de travail extraordinaire peut être totalement rendue aveugle et égoïste par l'emprise d'un homme. Elle est typique de ces femmes hétérosexuelles blanches et bourgeoises qui ont compris qu'elles pourraient se faire un nom dans la dénonciation du patriarcat mais sans agir nullement sur leur vie personnelle. Ah, le privilège bourgeois ! Quelle ridicule génération que la sienne: ces fameu.ses intellectuel.les françai.ses, si regretté.es depuis les années 70, qui se disaient socialistes et voulant mettre à bas l'ordre bourgeois de leurs parents quand ce n'étaient que des lâches accrochés au confort et à leur mauvaise foi ! Les conversations que Beauvoir relatent... Ils se croient supérieurs à tout le monde, méprisent et utilisent les femmes qui les vénèrent qui se pensent heureuses et aimées par eux EN DEPIT DE LA REALITE DE LEUR EXISTENCE.
J’oscillais entre la pitié et l'énervement: pendant des pages entières, Beauvoir décrit le travail de Sartre, ce qui voulait accomplir et patati et patata (je les sautais, c'était nul à pleurer) pour après avouer qu'elle n'arrivait pas à écrire parce que pour elle la carrière d'écrivaine n'allait pas de soi comme pour Sartre qui en tant qu'homme, savait que tout cela lui était du ! Elle comprend mais elle ne fait qu'effleurer le problème avant de retourner dans des récits immondes où elle va "visiter le quartier des putains" avec Sartre et critiquer les femmes sans arrêt.
Que ce fut looooooooooooooooooong ! Mais j'aimais par moment la façon dont elle évoquait ses réflexions personnelles, espérant qu'elles déboucheraient sur une analyse de la jeune femme lavée du cerveau qu'elle était alors. Mais il semble qu'elle n'en soit jamais sortie.
Simone de Beauvoir = arnaque. Les femmes hétérosexuelles "féministes" sont vraiment des déceptions permanentes.
Disons qu'après près de 500 pages de nombrilisme androcentré bourgeois et intellectuello-bouillie à mourir, sans qu'elle ne revienne une seule fois sur sa ridicule obsession sur Sartre (qui la traite de schizophrène d'ailleurs), ni sur le fait qu'il veuille coucher avec toutes les élèves avec lesquelles Beauvoir se lit d'amitié (ce "trio" dégueulasse où elle se refuse à parler de l'emprise sexuelle de Sartre sur ces jeunes femmes qui l'aimaient elle en premier lieu), ni sur le fait qu'elle est capable de marcher des heures sous le cagnard sans boire CAR elle n'écoute pas son corps ni ses besoins, ni même sur le fait qu'elle n'utilise plus le pronom "je" une seule fois parce qu'elle "est si heureuse de sentir son existence validée par un homme qui lui paraît supérieur" -o-, qu'elle écrit des phrases du style "plus d'hommes dans les rues, j'ai cru que ma vie s'arrêterait" ou parlant toujours des années 39-45 "après des mois passés avec des femmes, retrouver une amitié masculine était incroyable", je me suis: cette femme, une icône du féminisme ? Moi, lesbienne et féministe, continuer à lire ces mémoires ? Ce n'est pas possible.
Elle est la preuve même qu'une femme incroyablement intelligente, avec une belle plume (c'est d'ailleurs son style qui m'a permis de continuer notamment quand elle décrit ses voyages et sa vie quand elle est sans Sartre) et une force de travail extraordinaire peut être totalement rendue aveugle et égoïste par l'emprise d'un homme. Elle est typique de ces femmes hétérosexuelles blanches et bourgeoises qui ont compris qu'elles pourraient se faire un nom dans la dénonciation du patriarcat mais sans agir nullement sur leur vie personnelle. Ah, le privilège bourgeois ! Quelle ridicule génération que la sienne: ces fameu.ses intellectuel.les françai.ses, si regretté.es depuis les années 70, qui se disaient socialistes et voulant mettre à bas l'ordre bourgeois de leurs parents quand ce n'étaient que des lâches accrochés au confort et à leur mauvaise foi ! Les conversations que Beauvoir relatent... Ils se croient supérieurs à tout le monde, méprisent et utilisent les femmes qui les vénèrent qui se pensent heureuses et aimées par eux EN DEPIT DE LA REALITE DE LEUR EXISTENCE.
J’oscillais entre la pitié et l'énervement: pendant des pages entières, Beauvoir décrit le travail de Sartre, ce qui voulait accomplir et patati et patata (je les sautais, c'était nul à pleurer) pour après avouer qu'elle n'arrivait pas à écrire parce que pour elle la carrière d'écrivaine n'allait pas de soi comme pour Sartre qui en tant qu'homme, savait que tout cela lui était du ! Elle comprend mais elle ne fait qu'effleurer le problème avant de retourner dans des récits immondes où elle va "visiter le quartier des putains" avec Sartre et critiquer les femmes sans arrêt.
Que ce fut looooooooooooooooooong ! Mais j'aimais par moment la façon dont elle évoquait ses réflexions personnelles, espérant qu'elles déboucheraient sur une analyse de la jeune femme lavée du cerveau qu'elle était alors. Mais il semble qu'elle n'en soit jamais sortie.
Simone de Beauvoir = arnaque. Les femmes hétérosexuelles "féministes" sont vraiment des déceptions permanentes.
August 12, 2018
Even more wonderful on the second reading.
October 9, 2020
سفرها، پیش از آغاز جنگ، نوشتن مهمان، مگس‌ها� جنگ، کامو، پیکاسو، پایان جنگ.
July 1, 2022
A brilliantly written autobiography that surges into a borrowing account of life and death under the Nazi occupation of France and Paris. Moments of Racism, where you see imperialism as culture constructing some of Beauvoir’s accounts of encounters between her and non-white people. An amazing read.
August 5, 2023
"La force de l'âge" is the second volume in Simone de Beauvoir's autobiographical series, spanning 1929 to 1944. It explores her transformative experiences in her 20s and 30s, with a focus on her partnership with philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre. The memoir addresses challenges as an aspiring female writer in a male-dominated society, contextualized by the emergence of fascism and World War II. Through introspection and philosophical discussions, de Beauvoir reflects on her feminist awakening and journey of self-discovery. Her writing offers valuable insights into societal norms and gender roles, making it an essential resource for understanding this eminent feminist thinker.
January 18, 2025
"Cada año pasa más rápidamente que el precedente. No tendría mucho que esperar antes de dormirme para siempre. Mientras tanto, ya sabía cómo las horas pueden arrastrarse lentamente. Y aún amo demasiado la vida para que la idea de la muerte me consuele."
November 12, 2016
"Penetrar tan adentro en las vidas extrañas que la gente, al oír mi voz, tenga la impresión de hablar consigo misma: he aquí lo que deseaba"
En este libro, encuentro en Simone alguien con quien siento gran empatía, a pesar de las circumstancias diferentes de nuestras vidas. Las interrogantes que se hace acerca del mundo y su lugar en el, el paso del individualismo hacia el colectivismo, el crecimiento de su sentido de responsabilidad política, y la contradicción que es querer darse a alguien enteramente y a la vez estar completa y definida por si misma... su franqueza es encantadora. Durante el libro, varias veces me detuve a pensar "si una persona tan eminente como Simone de Beauvoir se ha sentido y comportado así, si ha tenido esta clase de dudas... ¡quizás yo no esté tan mal despues de todo!"
Lo que escribe Simone (y mi própia experiencia) me sugieren que lo importante no es intentar transitar por un camino consistente, sino contener la consistencia dentro de uno mismo. El libro más bien sugiere que la vida (a diferencia de la mera existencia) emerge de la interacción entre un individuo constantemente en definición, y un mundo indiferente, que no deja de avanzar.
"...mi vida no era una historia que me contaba a mí misma, sino un compromiso entre el mundo y yo "
En este libro, encuentro en Simone alguien con quien siento gran empatía, a pesar de las circumstancias diferentes de nuestras vidas. Las interrogantes que se hace acerca del mundo y su lugar en el, el paso del individualismo hacia el colectivismo, el crecimiento de su sentido de responsabilidad política, y la contradicción que es querer darse a alguien enteramente y a la vez estar completa y definida por si misma... su franqueza es encantadora. Durante el libro, varias veces me detuve a pensar "si una persona tan eminente como Simone de Beauvoir se ha sentido y comportado así, si ha tenido esta clase de dudas... ¡quizás yo no esté tan mal despues de todo!"
Lo que escribe Simone (y mi própia experiencia) me sugieren que lo importante no es intentar transitar por un camino consistente, sino contener la consistencia dentro de uno mismo. El libro más bien sugiere que la vida (a diferencia de la mera existencia) emerge de la interacción entre un individuo constantemente en definición, y un mundo indiferente, que no deja de avanzar.
"...mi vida no era una historia que me contaba a mí misma, sino un compromiso entre el mundo y yo "
September 24, 2011
Have you ever read a book and the first sentence you read you can't stop because it has struck forcefully at how you define yourself? This is that book for me. De Beauvoir wrote her autobiography in four parts, indulgent? Not particularly. Although De Beauvoir obviously writes from her perspective, she's often focusing on the world around her, her developments as a writer in a community of writers and how the war that surrounds her impacts her philosophy. This book focuses on De Beauvoir's life from just as she's leaving home and meeting Jean-Paul Sartre to the end of the Second World War. She charts her relationship with Sartre and the developments of their philosophies, and the impacts the war had on each of their worldviews. This book also provides an inside look at that specific community of writer's-socialist, progressive, existentialists-who came to prominence at this time.
June 13, 2016
"Kadınlığımın Hikayesi" yazarın kendi hayatıyla ilgili tuttuğu notlardan oluşuyor. Bir bakıma günlük. Yazım süreci, Sartre ile olan ilişkisi, kitaplarından ve hayatından beklentileri, gezip gördüğü bazı yerler, Castro ile tanışması, Hitler Almanyası'nın Fransa ve kendi çevresine olan etkileri, sol görüşü nasıl benimsediği... Kült üçlemesinin ardından özellikle erkek yazarlar tarafından nasıl yerden yere vurulduğu okurken bile sinir bozuyor. Ayrıca kendisine yıllarca "Kitaplarınızı Sartre yazıyor değil mi?" sorusu sorulmuş. Bir kadının felsefe, siyaset, edebiyat alanında bu denli yetkin olabilmesi zorlarına gitmiş belli ki. Okuyun, okutun.
September 7, 2017
Simone demuestra una vez más que se infravaloraba al no considerarse una "filosofa" a sí misma. Este segundo volumen de sus memorias combina con una honesta profundidad clases de historia, de teoría de la literatura, de arte, de amistad, de pensamiento y, sobre todo, de aquello que más la obsesionó: las relaciones humanas. Aunque confieso que en ocasiones se me hizo un poco largo por la exhaustividad de sus descripciones es éste un libro imprescindible, con fragmentos inolvidables, para conocer un poco mejor a esta extraordinaria mujer invadida por la plenitud de su vida.
December 19, 2022
Esta es la segunda autobiografía de Simone de Beauvoir; creo que disfruto más sus biografías que sus novelas (a excepción del Segundo Sexo, a la cual considero un ensayo maestro) porque se perfila más su vida, su entorno, lo que sufrió con la II Guerra, y lo que significó este hecho fatídico para Francia y para el mundo.
Tambien se disfrutan en este libro las descripciones de las campiñas y ciudades que visita sola, con Sartré o amigos.
Una joya para quien admira a esta escritora.
Tambien se disfrutan en este libro las descripciones de las campiñas y ciudades que visita sola, con Sartré o amigos.
Una joya para quien admira a esta escritora.
October 19, 2015
Vivere quei momenti deve essere stato terribile e al contempo affascinante. Una bellissima autobiografia!
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