Diary of Anais Nin, Volume 1

by Anais Nin

  He is a very famous personage, a friend of Debussy and a converted Jew who, by his brilliance, converted Max Jacob and many other artists. So I donned my new black wool costume with enormous sleeves and a slit in the front which runs from throat to breast, and the bracelet set with stars, and went to visit him in his monastically bare room. He was sitting in front of a very large desk covered with very large books. He was lean, dark-eyed, and intense. All in black, I felt like a voluptuous widow. He looked at me and studied me. I am sure he knew I had come as Thai's, to tempt him into error. We talked at length.

  He started by saying, "Vous êtes une âme très disputé."

  I told him about my experience in the hospital, and how I had never been able to find that marvelous state again.

  "A visit from God," said l'Abbé Alterman.

  We were talking very interestingly until I told him I was studying psychoanalysis with Dr. Otto Rank, that I felt it helped people, had helped me. Then this man, who had fascinated so many artists with his scholarly learning and his wit and his talent for debate, uttered these unbelievable words:

  "You know, of course, that psychoanalysts and psychoanalysis are the work of the devil, that if you have any connection with them you are doomed, that God will never visit you again if you do not surrender that evil science immediately. You will be practicing black magic instead of white magic if you do not collaborate with religion. If you insist on standing alone."

  When I left him I had no more doubts about the new path I should take.

  Before I go up too far, I must go down deep into the earth, to find the earth, and stay on it. I am in life. I am alive.

  I said to Henry: "In the books, you are really creating yourself. In Tropic of Cancer you were only a sex and a stomach. In the second book, Black Spring, you begin to have eyes, a heart, ears, hands. By and by, with each book, you will create a complete man, and then you will be able to write about woman, but not until then. But why do you give the EYES in the book to Brassai, the photographer? They are your eyes, you are describing what you saw, not Brassai. Why do you make Lowenfels the poet? It is your own poetry you are glorifying."

  Visit to Marcel Duchamp and his American mistress. A studio full of portfolios, paintings, and her collection of earrings hanging on the white walls, earrings from all over the world, so lovely, every beauty of design duplicated by a twin, and some of them twinkling, some cascades of delicate filigree, some heavy and carved. She was tall and with a beautiful calm face, almost a madonna face with grey hair. She gave me a pair of earrings spontaneously, took them off the hooks and gave them to me.

  Marcel Duchamp stood quietly, smoking his pipe, talking little. His eyes shining, very bright, although the rest of him seems carved of wood, much like the chess pieces he loves so much to play with. He had a collection of pipes, and he stood, and sat, and smoked, and welcomed us, and parted from us with a great stylized detachment, as if we were pawns too, and he were reflecting on how to move us. It is said he spends all night on a game, thinking of a move, and then will telephone a friend in another country with whom he is playing a game by long distance. His passion is in chess. About his painting he is detached. He showed me a portfolio, a box, really, which he said should now take the place of completed books. "This is not a time in which to complete anything," he said. "It is a time for fragments." This box contained an unfinished book. Scraps of drawings on any old paper, notes torn from a notebook, odds and ends, half-finished comments, a word all by itself, in large handwriting, the elements with which to compose a book which he would never write. A symbol of the times.

  He gave me a portfolio of reproduced copies to take to New York and to show to artists.

  The walls were white and high. There was a garden outside, which seemed to extend into the vast studio because of the answering plants. I see their figures against this white background. Although there must have been color, I see them in black and white, people stripped of ornamentation and unessentials, engravings, he of wood, and she of compassionate but serene flesh. And it is difficult to believe that Marcel Duchamp is the one who sent a urinal bowl to an exhibition, as I was told, or played so many surrealist pranks.

  Henry was enthusiastic over the idea of the casual, unfinished book. There is no doubt that this was not a surrender to an easy way of creating, accepting the chaos, the fragmentary quality of life, but had much more to do with D. H. Lawrence's quest for a way to capture a description of life and character without killing it, a way to capture the living moments. For this, it was important to follow the waywardness of life itself, its oscillations and whims and mobility. Henry was good at reproducing the chaos of nature and life. Now he wanted to publish his letters, in the same way as Duchamp had published his notes and sketches for an incomplete book.

  This great passivity in action which makes Henry take all the blows, never fight for what he loves, write despairingly but act in no way to change his surroundings; which makes him write violently, curse, and take whatever woman comes his way: this great passivity seems to be necessary to the flowering of life, because it means enjoyment, effortlessness. His yieldingness to life. He expresses nonchalance, relaxation, looseness, easygoingness. The will only expresses itself in a negative way, by contradicting others, attacking others, opposing what others have done. His physical relaxation is the expression of a defect, a defect in action. Perhaps the world needed that loosening, that untying, unknotting, unleashing of controls, oiling, de-mentalization. In any case, that is Henry's gift.

  Certain qualities were lost by organization, by the forms of the old novel, the old way to tell things.

  [November, 1934]

  Rank's desperate letters from New York, needing me, reminding me that he canceled all his important official engagements in London to rush to my bedside when I was in the hospital. "Well," he writes, "I am dying now. Come to my rescue." I have to leave Henry struggling to launch his book in spite of the timorousness of Kahane; my father suffering from eczema and wearing white cotton gloves on his hands, his pianist hands; Joaquin's struggles to bring me back into the comforts of Catholicism. The feelings of others affect me, and even the one I appear to send away empty-handed takes away with him a piece of my strength and a piece of my compassion.

  I listen to the "Psalms" of Florent Schmitt over the radio in the dark, sitting next to my father, and I weep. This struggle to live by my own truth is so difficult, so wearing. A terrible algebra, always. I am like the adventurer who leaves all those he loves, and returns with his arms full of gold; and then they are happy and they forget how they tried to keep this adventurer from exploring, from his voyage and his search.

  Dorothy Dudley wrote a book on Theodore Dreiser. She wrote me a letter full of admiration for my book on D. H. Lawrence. "I feel we have a similar way of writing." We sat in her kitchen and had dinner on a rose paper tablecloth. She gave me a letter of introduction to Theodore Dreiser and Waldo Frank.

  I touch the Egyptian earrings given to me by the mistress of Marcel Duchamp and think of their room papered with maps, and all the places yet to see. Blaise Cendrars wrote: "I won't rest until I have lived in every hotel in Paris so I may know every inch of it," and for me, not only of Paris, but of the world. I remember the cat sleeping peacefully and Marcel Duchamp smoking over his chess game: I write about little things because the big ones are like abysses.

  I make my father promise to go to Zurich to see Jung if all other medicines fail.

  Psychoanalysis did save me because it allowed the birth of the real me, a most dangerous and painful one for a woman, filled with dangers; for no one has ever loved an adventurous woman as they have loved adventurous men. The birth of the real me might have ended like that of my unborn child. I may not become a saint, but I am very full and very rich. I cannot install myself anywhere yet; I must climb dizzier heights. But I still love the relative, not the absolute: the cabbage and the warmth of a fire, Bach on the phonograph, and laughter, and talk in the cafés, and a trunk packed
for departure, with copies of Tropic of Cancer, and Rank's last SOS and the telephone ringing all day, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye...

  * * *

  Index

  Adler, Alfred, [>]

  Allendy, René, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>]–[>] passim, [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; appearance of, [>]–[>], [>], [>]; and Artaud, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; books owned by, [>]; love needed by, [>], [>]; and Marguerite, [>]–[>]; and Miller, Henry, [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>]; Nin, Anaïs, psychoanalyzed by, [>]–[>], [>]–[>] passim, [>]–[>], [>]–[>] passim, [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; objectivity lost by, [>], [>]; and occultism, [>]; quoted, [>], [>], [>]–[>]; wife of, [>], [>]

  Alterman, Abbé, [>]

  Amor Brujo (opera), [>]

  Art and Artist, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Artaud, Antonin, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; and Allendy, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; appearance of, [>], [>]; letters from Anaïs Nin, [>], [>]; letters to Anaïs Nin, [>]–[>], [>]–[>], [>]–[>], [>]–[>], [>]; Nin, Anaïs, stimulated by, [>], [>]; on psychoanalysis, [>]–[>]; quoted, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>]; scene with Anaïs, [>]; seriousness of, [>], [>]; as tortured being, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Balzac, Honoré de, [>]

  Barcelona, Spain, [>]

  Barnes, Djuna, [>]

  Bergson, Henri, [>], [>]

  Bibliothèque Nationale, [>], [>]

  Black Spring, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>] n., [>], [>], [>]

  Bodenheim, Max, [>]

  Bone, Dr., [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Book of Dreams, [>]

  Bosch, Hieronymus, [>]

  Boussinesq, Hélène, [>], [>]

  Bradley, William, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; quoted, [>]

  Breton, André, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Bruckner, Ferdinand, [>], [>], [>]

  Brussels, Belgium, [>], [>], [>]

  Bubu de Montparnasse, [>], [>]

  Capitalisme et Sexualité, [>]

  Casals, Pablo, [>], [>]

  Cenci, Beatrice, [>]

  Cendrars, Blaise, [>], [>]

  Chareau, Madame Pierre, [>]; letter to Anaïs Nin, [>]

  Chicago Tribune, [>]

  Chien Andalou, [>]

  China, Miller's view of, [>]

  Chronicles of the Plague, [>]

  Cité Universitaire, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Cities of the Interior, [>]

  Clichy, Place, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Cocteau, Jean, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Colin, Saul, [>]

  Compassion, as key to human being, [>], [>]

  Crazy Cock, [>]

  Creative Urge and Personality Development, [>]

  Criminels, Les, [>]

  Criterion magazine, [>]

  Cuba, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Cummings, E. E., [>]

  Dadaism, [>], [>], [>]

  Dagover, Lil, [>]

  D'Annunzio, Gabriele, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Da Vinci, Leonardo, [>], [>], [>]

  Debussy, Claude, [>]

  Delia, [>], [>], [>]

  Delteil, Joseph, [>], [>]

  D. H. Lawrence: An Unprofessional Study, [>], [>], [>]

  D'Indy, Vincent, [>], [>]

  Don Juan and His Double, [>]

  Donald, [>], [>]

  Dostoevsky, Fyodor, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Dreams, discussion of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Dreiser, Theodore, [>]

  Dreyer, Carl, [>], [>]

  Drug addicts, description of, [>]–[>]

  Du Barry, Madame, [>]

  Duchamp, Marcel, [>]–[>], [>]

  Dudley, Dorothy, [>]

  Duhamel, Georges, [>]

  Dulac, Germaine, [>], [>]

  Duse, Eleonora, [>], [>]

  Elsie, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Emilia, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Endler, Dr., [>], [>]

  Enfants Terribles, Cocteau's, [>]

  Études des Idées et Tendences Nou-velles, [>]

  European Caravan, [>]

  Falla, Manuel de, [>]

  Faure, Élie, [>], [>]

  Fontanne, Lynn, [>]

  Fraenkel, Michael, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  France, Anatole, [>], [>]

  Francis, Saint, [>]

  Frank, Waldo, [>]

  Frankenstein, Dr., [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Freud, Sigmund, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Garbo, Greta, [>], [>]

  Gaugin, Eugène, quoted, [>]

  Gide, André, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Green, Julian, [>]

  Grosz, George, [>], [>], [>]

  Hamsun, Knut, [>], [>], [>]

  Hansen, Mr., [>], [>], [>]

  Heliogabalus, [>], [>]

  Helm, Brigitte, [>]

  Henry Miller: Letters to Anaïs Nin, [>] n.

  Hiler, Hilaire, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Hill of Dreams, [>]

  House of Incest, [>], [>] n., [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  House of the Dead, [>]

  Huxley, Aldous, [>]

  Idées et Commentaires, [>]

  Incest, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Jacob, Max, [>]

  Jaloux, Edmond, [>]

  James, Henry, quoted, [>]

  Jardin des Supplices, [>], [>]

  Jean (sculptress and poetess), [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Jeanne, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Jeunes Filles en Uniformes, [>]

  Jolas, Eugene, [>]

  Joyce, James, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Jung, C. G., [>], [>], [>], [>]; quoted, [>]

  Kafka, Franz, [>]

  Kahane, Jack, [>] and n., [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Keyserling, Hermann, [>]

  Knopf, Alfred, [>], [>]

  Lady Chatterley's Lover, [>]

  L'Age d'Or (film), [>], [>]

  Lalou, René, [>]

  L'Art et le Mort, [>]

  Laughton, Charles, [>]

  Lawrence, D. H., xiii, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>] [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; quoted, [>], [>], [>]; on woman as "man's invention," [>]; on world disintegration, [>]

  Leblanc, Georgette, [>]

  Leonardo da Vinci, [>], [>], [>]

  Lesbianism, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Letters to Anaïs Nin, Miller's, [>]

  Letters to Rivière, Artaud's, [>]

  Literature: as exaggeration and dramatization, [>]; French, [>]; influence on writer, Bradley's view of, [>]

  London, [>], [>]

  Lorenzo in Taos, [>]

  Lorrain, Jean, [>]

  Louveciennes, France, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Lowenfels, Walter, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Lucie, Countess, [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Luhan, Mabel Dodge, [>]

  Lunt, Alfred, [>]

  Machen, Arthur, [>]

  Mädchen in Uniform (film), [>] n.

  Mahreb, Prince, [>], [>]

  Marguerite S., [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; and Allendy, [>]–[>]

  Maruca (Nin), [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]

  Masochism, [>]–[>], [>], [>]

  Maupassant, Guy de, [>], [>]

  Miller, Henry, [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; and Allendy, [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>]; anger of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; appearance of, [>], [>]; on compassion, [>], [>]; cruelty of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; an
d dreams, discussion of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; energy of, [>], [>], [>]–[>]; German background of, [>]; letters from Anaïs Nin, [>]–[>], [>]–[>], [>]–[>], [>]; letters to Anaïs Nin, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; in London, [>]; and Lowenfels, [>]; and Miller, June, [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>]; mother of, [>]; obscenities by, [>], [>]; and organization, lack of, [>]; passion of, [>], [>]; and Perlès, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; personality of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>]; philosophic phase of, [>], [>]; quoted, [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; and Rank, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; on saintliness, [>]; and whores at Rue Blondel, [>]–[>]; on world disintegration, [>]; writing by, power of, [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; see also Miller, June

  Miller, June, [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; beauty of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; drugs taken by, [>], [>]; elusiveness of, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; false side of, [>], [>]; and Miller, Henry, [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>] passim, [>]; personality of, [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]; purity of, [>], [>]; quoted, [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>]; relationship to Anaïs Nin, [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>], [>]–[>], [>], [>]

  Miralles, Antonio Francisco, [>], [>], [>]

  Mirbeau, Octave, [>], [>]

  Modern Education, a Critique of Its Fundamental Ideas, [>]

  Montparnasse, [>], [>], [>]

  Mysteries, Hamsun's, [>]

  Narcissism, [>]

  Naturalisme et Mysticisme chez D. H. Lawrence, [>]

  Neuilly, [>], [>], [>], [>]