Sarah Bakewell | Στο καφέ των υπαρξιστών: ελευθερία, ύπαρξη και κοκτέιλ βερίκοκο (II)


Simone de Beauvoir | The Second Sex (II)

Simone de Beauvoir | The Second Sex (I)

Simone de Beauvoir on girl and her diary:

illustration by Caitlin Shearer

Others announce: «To be read after my death» or «To be burned when I die». The little girl’s sense of secrecy that developed at prepuberty only grows in importance. She closes herself up in fierce solitude: she refuses to reveal to those around her the hidden self that she considers to be her real self and that is in fact an imaginary character: she plays at being a dancer like Tolstoy’s Natasha, or a saint like Marie Lenéru, or simply that singular wonder that is self. There is still an enormous difference between this heroine and the objective face that her parents and friends recognise in her. She is also convinced that she is misunderstood: her relationship with herself becomes even more passionate: she becomes intoxicated with her isolation, feels different, superior, exceptional: she promises that the future will take revenge on the mediocrity of her present life. From this narrow and pretty existence she escapes by dreams. She has always loved to dream: she gives herself up to this penchant more than ever; she uses poetic clichés to mask a universe that intimidates her, she sanctifies the male sex with moonlight, rose-coloured clouds, velvet nights; she turns her body into a marble, jasper or mother-of-pearl temple; she tells herself foolish fairy tales.

– Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex {The Girl}

Sarah Bakewell | Στο καφέ των υπαρξιστών: ελευθερία, ύπαρξη και κοκτέιλ βερίκοκο

Sabina Socol

Περί Simone de Beauvoir ο λόγος…

Ως παιδί, ήθελε να καταβροχθίσει καθετί που έβλεπε. Κοιτούσε λαίμαργα τις βιτρίνες των ζαχαροπλαστείων – «τη διαυγή λάμψη των καραμελωμένων φρούτων, τη νεφελώδη στιλπνότητα των ζελέ, την καλειδοσκοπική διάταξη των ζαχαρωτών – πράσινα, κόκκινα, πορτοκαλί, βιολετιά: ορεγόμουνα τα ίδια χρώματα όσο και τις απολαύσεις που μου υπόσχονταν». Ευχόταν να ήταν όλο το σύμπαν βρώσιμο για να μπορεί να τα φάει, όπως έφαγαν από το ζαχαρωτό σπιτάκι ο Χάνσελ και η Γκρέτελ. Ακόμα και ως ενήλικη, έγραφε: «Ήθελα να ροκανίσω ολάνθιστες αμυγδαλιές και να μασουλώ δαγκωνιές από το αμυγδαλωτό ουράνιο τόξο του ηλιοβασιλέματος».

– Sarah Bakewell, Στο καφέ των υπαρξιστών: ελευθερία, ύπαρξη και κοκτέιλ βερίκοκο

Simone de Beauvoir | She Came to Stay (II)

Last Year at Marienbad | dir. Alain Resnais (1961)

‘It always interests me,’ said Pierre with astonishment.

‘But you never ask me questions spontaneously.’

‘I feel that as soon as you have something to say, you say it to me,’ said Pierre.

He stared at her a little uneasily.

‘When did it happen?’

‘What?’ said Françoise.

‘That I didn’t ask question?’

‘Several times recently,’ said Françoise with a little laugh. You looked as if you were thinking of somthing else.’

She hesitated, doubtful. Confronted with Pierre’s trust, she was ashamed. Every time she had kept silence with regard to him she had prepared an ambush into which he had quietly fallen. He did not suspect that she had been laying traps for him. Wasn’t she the one who had changed? Wasn’t it she who was lying when she spoke of blissful love, of happiness, of jealousy overcome? Her words, her behaviour no longer corresponded fully to her deeper feelings. And he continued to believe her. Was that faith or indifference?

– Simone de Beauvoir, She Came to Stay