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I'm sorry for Anaïs Nin and those who love her, but I couldn't read past 20 or so pages. It's boring, like reading a teenage Myspace diary or like some "aspiring writer's" Livejournal, or like 4chan.

I realize that it could be of interest to the people who have a strong interest in Anaïs Nin's personality, and it was probably "offensive, revolutionary and piqued many a intellectual's interest" but for God's sake - it was the 30ies, those people were up in arms for most insignificant reasons, which is probably why they gave the rise to some of the worst ideologies of all times - Nazism, Communism and Capitalist Behaviorism but I digress - this diary is a pain to read, because, well it's a private diary. Of course if you live in Bumpkintown, Ruralland, maybe there's just a tiny little sliver of interest there with the "life of Paris", which is mostly imaginary and overblown (as they say in Russia - Петушка хвалит кукуха) and so forth.

This said, having lived in Paris, actually living in Paris NOW, and having lived in the cities and small towns all over Europe, I can tell that the world's capitals are more provincial, in the negative sense of the word, in feeling and overall quality of people than smaller cities. Anyhow - a dreadful bore, not even I, who's used to reading books that'd bore to death most people, could read it.

Time to get that book onto to the history researchers desks where it belongs, and out of the general recommendations. Was recommended to me by a Gender Studies postgraduate; who, as any other postgraduate might have had the golden hammer syndrome (déformation professionnelle), thinking that his was the only major and research specialty which applies to all aspects of life.

0/5 Absolutely do not recommend, unless you are writing a thesis on the subject and can't avoid it.