Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin

From "A Journal of Love" #5

by Anaïs Nin, Paul Herron (Editor)

Mirages opens at the dawn of World War II, when Anaïs Nin fled Paris, where she lived for fifteen years with her husband, banker Hugh Guiler, and ends in 1947 when she meets the man who would be “the One,” the lover who would satisfy her insatiable hunger for connection. In the middle looms a period Nin describes as “hell,” during which she experiences a kind of erotic madness, a delirium that fuels her search for love. As a child suffering abandonment by her father, Anaïs wrote, “Close your eyes to the ugly things,” and, against a horrifying backdrop of war and death, Nin combats the world’s darkness with her own search for light.

Mirages collects, for the first time, the story that was cut from all of Nin’s other published diaries, particularly volumes 3 and 4 of The Diary of Anaïs Nin, which cover the same time period. It is the long-awaited successor to the previous unexpurgated diaries Henry and June, Incest, Fire, and Nearer the Moon. Mirages answers the questions Nin readers have been asking for decades: What led to the demise of Nin’s love affair with Henry Miller? Just how troubled was her marriage to Hugh Guiler? What is the story behind Nin’s “children,” the effeminate young men she seemed to collect at will? Mirages is a deeply personal story of heartbreak, despair, desperation, carnage, and deep mourning, but it is also one of courage, persistence, evolution, and redemption that reaches beyond the personal to the universal.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Biography, Classics, Diary, Journal, Womens

440 pages, Hardcover

First published October 13, 2013

About the author

Writer and diarist, born in Paris to a Catalan father and a Danish mother, Anaïs Nin spent many of her early years with Cuban relatives. Later a naturalized American citizen, she lived and worked in Paris, New York and Los Angeles. Author of avant-garde novels in the French surrealistic style and collections of erotica, she is best known for her life and times in The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volumes I-VII (1966-1980).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ana%C3%...

Reviews

[Chrissi Sepe · Rating 5 out of 5]

The most recent volume of The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin entitled “Mirages” begins with Anais Nin and Henry Miller who continue to correspond with each other. Along with her letters to Henry, she is still sending him her husband Hugo's money so that Miller can survive as a “starving artist.” Anais and Henry are no longer a romantic couple because he has moved away, and Anais considers this break of their bond a personal rejection because by moving away, he has proven he can live without her. By this time, she is growing weary of his lifestyle, finding his comments against the bourgeois, or even worker's lifestyle, hypocritical since has no problem taking money from workers like Hugo. She sees his behavior as childish, selfish and parasitic which she hadn't in the previous volumes of the Diaries. She longs for a clean break from him.

This break in her decades-long love affair with Henry sets the tone for “Mirages,” leading Anais on an odyssey to find the one, true love of her life who can be an equal partner to her, both of mind, maturity and sexuality, in which she feels both Hugo and Henry fall short. She has a series of affairs and becomes obsessed with one man after the other.

In her efforts to free herself from Henry, she switches her focus to a man named Albert and falls in love with him. She is so distraught during her relationship with him and its aftermath only to have her feelings transferred to yet another man who is also a mismatch for her named Bill. There are three Bills that she falls for in Mirages, and none of them are The One, but Bill Pinckard is the Bill she falls the hardest for. She has an affair with him and spends time with him and his platonic female friend named Frances. Frances knows that Anais and Bill are lovers and that Anais is torn up about the fact that Bill can't be the partner she longs for. Frances criticizes Anais, saying she shouldn't sexualize everything. She tells Anais that her own non-sexual relationship with Bill is a beautiful relationship that is intellectual and pure which can last forever. Anais senses jealousy in Frances' attempt at comforting her and says: “Well, we each got what we wanted. I wanted passion.” This is a recurring problem for Anais – the fact that she is a sexual person and a lot of the women around her aren't. It's a problem that continues today: the fact that women have to choose whether they are going to be seen primarily for their sexuality or primarily as a platonic, intellectual friend. It is a choice that men never have to make. The truth is, whether women choose to be the sexual mate or the intellectual mate, both types of women lose. It's a lesson demonstrated perfectly in the film, “Splendor in the Grass,” starring Natalie Wood. But if there ever was a woman who could encompass both, it was Anais Nin. She didn't lose, and she never shied away from defending her lifestyle.

After her devastating break-up with Bill, she continues to meet more men: the two other Bills and a man she calls “Chinchillito” who she sees on the beach one day and realizes she just has to have him because of his beauty. She calls him “Sun Man.” I was surprised to see her still involved with her “fiery” lover, Gonzalo More, from previous volumes of the Diaries, and she's still hot and heavy with him, but his parasitic nature, similar to Henry Miller, is becoming distasteful to her. She also thinks he is lazy. One of the very last men she falls hard for is a young Gore Vidal who was the only name I recognized out of her string of new men mentioned in “Mirages.” She feels a very strong mental connection with Gore and falls madly in love with him. But he is like Frances and only wants a platonic relationship with her. He is primarily homosexual but does indeed love Anais. He wants to marry her and live non-sexually. Anais toys with this idea but realizes that as a supremely passionate woman, she would never be satisfied in a marriage like that.

After reading her accounts of her extreme depressions which often drive her near suicide following her break-ups with Albert, Bill and Gore, I wanted to smack her and ask her how she could keep falling madly in love over and over again? But then I realized that through her examinations of both herself and each man and the dedicated documenting of them in her diary, she is actually making progress and learning how to shield herself away from falling for the wrong man in the future. If she didn't painstakingly examine each relationship, she wouldn't make the progress she does by the end of the book. After hours and hours of writing, she realizes that all of these men are fantasies she built up in her mind, yet she wouldn't know that if she hadn't been keeping her diary.

Finally, she meets Rupert Pole who is a suitable partner for her both mentally and sexually. He embraces her strength, and he has a much stronger sense of self than any of the others did. “Mirages” ends with the beginning of her relationship with Rupert Pole which continued for the rest of her life.

After the 2006 death of Rupert Pole who faithfully began publishing her previously edited diaries in their original form years after Anais Nin's death, I feared there would never be another unexpurgated diary released. But Paul Herron of Sky Blue Press has taken over the publishing of her diaries, and in my opinion, he is her Patron Saint and someone whom all die-hard Nin fans like myself should be indebted to.

I really enjoyed “Mirages” immensely. In addition to being able to experience her development of self throughout this volume, there are also more of her trademark descriptions of how to enjoy the simple, everyday things in life which are contained in every volume of her Diaries, both edited and unexpurgated. “Mirages” is an incredible read and a must for every Nin fan. I'm thoroughly looking forward to “Trapeze,” the next installment of the Unexpurgated Diary due to be released next year, to read more of Anais Nin's accounts of finally finding happiness and satisfaction with Rupert Pole.

[Joan Colby · Rating 5 out of 5]

Edited by Paul Herron.While Nin’s writing skill and candor are admirable, her continuous focus on sex and facilitating the welfare of various lovers becomes as tiresome to read as it must have been to enact. Nin’s diary and her fiction are literary feats, but one can’t help thinking that larger social and political issues could have been supported or at any rate, approached. Her fixations seem like psychological disorders rather than liberation. When she broke with Henry Miller, the letters that flew between them revealed her overweening egotism as she accuses him of not sufficiently valuing the financial help she had, for years, extended. Yet this was her choice. Miller had existed without her aid for years prior to their meeting. One sees that Nin’s generosity was largely based on how this made her feel: powerful, kind, important. Henry, 12 years into their affair, gained the confidence along with the increasing interest in his books, to branch out beyond Nin’s purview: going to Greece or Corfu to meet with Durrell and when relocated to the U.S., traveling to California where he reveled in his freedom. This enraged Nin who accused him of denying the importance of her support, not appreciating her suffering in order to give to him and her other “children” Her need to give was anchored in a deeper need to control. Letters of this period reveal Nin as having an hysterical bent, concentrating on her psychic pain and wounds for which she blamed her lovers. While clearly intuitive and creative, she expected gratitude from those she supported. She believed she restructured their personalities, channeled their talent and opened them sexually. After distancing herself from Henry and Gonzalo, Nin concentrated on young men, some homosexual such as Gore Vidal with whom she had a non-physical affair or the 17 year old Bill with whom she found the height of sexual pleasure. She enjoyed introducing young inexperienced boys to the joys of sex, while realizing she needed an adult man to fulfill her pursuit of the ideal. Hugh remained in the role of husband, never realizing the extent of Anais’ infidelities. Anais’ mercurial nature made her leap from love to hatred in a matter of days, most of which was transference of her own unsatisfied emotions. It is difficult to form a concrete opinion of Anais Nin. Despite her faults, she was well aware of her narcissistic tendencies, though for the most part her interior self-regard made her fancy her role as a benevolent goddess. A pioneer of female adventurism, her diary will remain as an important document.

[Nabilah · Rating 1 out of 5]

Call me prude whatever i don't care....but if only she didn't sleep with teenagers when she's reaching 40 (i call it pulling a Madonna), this would have been a better book. Seriously. Don't talk to me about the norm of that time. I really don't care. This is not a line i'm willing to cross.

[Claire · Rating 4 out of 5]

I just love Anais. I feel a lot like her, while being a lot unlike her, empathising with her, confused by her, always astounded by her. I simply find her fascinating and provoking. I can't help but be pulled into a fantasy with her. All dreams are real. She was unique.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Only in fever do I feel life."

Nin is nothing without others-- a depressive shell of a soul-- but with others, she is beautifully, wonderfully, achingly everything. She cannot endure the mild temperament of simple love, of settling, of ennui. She is manic and wild and obsessed with her lovers, a chameleon-collage of them all. And I can't get enough.

To be in love with passion is to be absolutely mad, a manic enigma. Nin expresses it perfectly.

I have never related so deeply to another description of a vicarious life through passion. I am obsessed with Nin's writing. It brings me great peace to know I'm not alone in my love for love, and in the ensuing madness.

[aliya]

feels wrong to rate someone’s diary, so i won’t. but i loved this. she speaks to my soul.

[Jim Morris · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nin's diaries are perfect for when you only have ten minutes here or twenty minutes there to read them, as the entries are short. This particular volume seems to encompass the period of the greatest unhappiness in her life, but then again this is Anais Nin, so she squeezes in some terrific hot sex into her general ennui. And, as always, Nin provides a feast of language. I've just been reading some letters passed back and forth with Henry Miller toward the end of their relationship. She manages the difficult feat of making him look like a reasonable person. She can only be described as distraught during this period, and manages to find insult in Miller's most conciliatory passages.
But I still love the diaries. Taken altogether this is your best chance to really know a person through a lifetime of their most intimate thoughts.

[Miss Lo Flipo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Llevo tanto tiempo leyendo a Anaïs Nin que ya es más amiga mía que algunas de mis amigas. Pero que ninguna se me ofenda, por favor. Es que esta señora era pura introspección y puro fuego. Podría haber vivido en cualquier época y el resultado de estos diarios fascinantes sería el mismo porque en ellos habla de lo universal, de lo único que importa en realidad. Os recomiendo que también vosotras os hagáis sus amigas. Ya veréis como después lo entendéis todo. Pero todo.

[emma]

I really love Nin's writing style and way of thinking about many things. Just too long to finish now, but absolutely a writer I would love to return to.

[✽ ayanna ✽ · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mirages brings Nin’s complicated, dramatic, and lust-filled affairs to the forefront, as she searches for the real lover who understands the depths of her being. Oftentimes, I saw myself in her––her anxious attachment style, the idealisation of a partner’s potential, always living in the dream, and how the unhealed wounds of her father plagued her romantic life.

And yet, in a strange paradox, Nin has the rare power of being completely open and vulnerable, but carries the heaviest secret of all: somehow keeping her numerous affairs (and even second marriage!!) from her devoted husband, Hugo. I still can’t wrap my brain around how he could have been completely oblivious to Nin’s unfaithfulness. I suppose sometimes we only see what we wish to see, blinding ourselves to the truth.

Regardless, it’s a fascinating diary filled with sexual exploration, the lovers that come and go, sensitivity, and healing, healing, healing. It is a constant journey of being pulled into the darkness of the shadow self and finding the light again and again ("I touched the bottom again and then liberated myself”).

Here are a few of my favorite quotes, to gain a sense of Nin’s poetic and lovely writing style:

“I felt the flow again, the mellowness, a sense of connection with the currents of life. I am in the dream again.”

“Yes, I am in love; it is a feeling that opens one like a flower, fills one with essences that make one mobile and singing like the wind or the sea.”

“I am so open to the world, so open, so much in contact with it, it is like a huge cosmic love affair!”

“I gave myself to the sea and returned with strength.”

“I live openly, ready for the pain, the separations and losses. I am not holding on. Open and free, sad at moments, but knowing the deep joys are worth all that follows. Deep joys. One must be willing to suffer, to surrender.”

“Pleasure is always there, always possible, when one is not obsessed with a quest to conquer the unattainable, to force one’s will upon the unwilling, to change the unchangeable, to conquer what is not conquerable, to want what cannot be taken.”

“The cage is open, but I don’t know how to fly.”

“How some can find the entrances to the being, and others cannot.”

[Mawgojzeta · Rating 3 out of 5]

The writing is lush and bold. She writes beautifully. That alone would make this worth reading for many people. I can easily image, as well, how responsive a person in the 15 year old - 25 year old range may be to Anais' experiences. Also, how titillating this would have been to a person of any age reading it in the 30s, 40s, and 50s.

I could not feel that, being a 40ish woman in 2013. I found her overly dramatic and honestly did not care much for her life choices and lifestyle. So, as much credit I will give to her writing style, and as fulfilled I am having finally read one of Anais Nin's books, I know I will not reread this nor read another of hers. The preface by Paul Herron and introduction by Kim Krizan were fabulous, and contributed to the 3 stars.

[Jeff Bursey · Rating 3 out of 5]

On par with some of the more recent volumes of Nin's unexpurgated diaries in terms of writing style, Mirages is mainly about Nin's search for a man who will love her as she wants to be loved, though what that would require changes quite a bit. She seems attracted to men-children. The diary entries offer portraits of her many lovers, including Henry Miller and Edmund Wilson, and those she wanted to be (Gore Vidal). It talks to some extent about psychoanalysis and her fiction. There aren't any notes telling a new reader who the men and women in Nin's new york circle are, which is a drawback. Of some interest, then, on those levels, and of primary interest for how one woman thought of the duties and roles of women in the 1930s-1940s in the united states.

[Abdullah · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reviewing Anis nin is a staggering task. She lived for the flesh and she would spare nothing for this goal, even if that means sleeping with her therapists, two of them in facts, cheating on her husband, having multi affairs at the same times and sleeping with minors. Her life revolves around the ups and downs of having affairs, fabricating lies, getting tired of the affairs when the highs cannot be sustained and then repeat the same thing thousands time again.

All the psychoanalysis she’s gone through, all her writing, all her reading and all her intellects cannot save her from this addictions of affairs.


While reading here, however, I was thinking what if as she was laying to everyone, she also lied to herself or us on this situation. Her style of writing imply authenticity but maybe she is not telling the whole truth about the her self and the affairs.

Furthermore, even though she was presumably having a lot of sex, there is not a lot of description about it. she is completely occupied with the sensuality to the point she is only emphasizing about being “possessed” but will not explain how the way Henry miller for example might.


Also, here is another insight about her from reading the her diaries, you can see how little respect she has for Henry Miller in this book or any of her lovers once she is no longer in love with them or how badly she is talking about her husband who was financing her other lovers without his knowledge, the way she made him this pathetic cuckold without his knowledge is just heartbreaking, and all of that is for the name of love. It just reminds me of the atrocities the United States keeps doing in the name of peace.

[Ryan Harris · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think diaristic writing is some of the clearest and most beautiful there can be as it is completely deprived of affectation. The author writes for themselves which defaults to absolute emotional clarity; though it does need to be revisited to be made sense of and contextualised in the present, like any journal. There is a touch of madness to this; the fever of love and desire.

I cannot fathom Nin's experience for myself and effectively I feel I have wasted my youth having had almost no partners. What is relatable is her in-the-moment deliberation of 'is this person the right one?', constantly to'ing and fro'ing thinking of potential partners or love, except for her it was real and for me it has been academic.

Her desire to get out of a dead relationship was relatable with the few experiences I have had but she conveys a sense of why she stayed (emotional and financial security). But most of all I enjoyed this for the gorgeous language with which she meets her lover at the end, Robert. I think that sort of passion is desirable, but I doubt it lasts. One's hope is that it leads to companionate love, not the highs-and-lows of desire and depletion.

Hers:

That is my own interest in writing, not to make a name, not to be exposed in libraries, or celebrated after death, but to create life, immediate life around me. I cannot go into new lives without my books. They are my boat and sail, my passport and map, my compass and telescope.

Anaïs, beware. Il faut savoir jouer. Il ne faut pas rêver. [...]
La petite Anaïs ne sait pas jouer.
[Anaïs, beware. One must know how to play. One must not dream. […]
Little Anaïs doesn’t know how to play.]

I can see the trees are beautiful—the vastness of the sky, the immense possibilities of love spreading out. I can see beyond fixation and obsession. How light I feel!

I found the only mature jeux possible—humour.

The great beauty of my life was that I lived out what others only talk about, or dream about, or analyze. I want to go on, living out the uncensored dream, the free unconscious.

As I got up to go out with him, he embraced me. Once we began to kiss we could not separate. Desire, desire, desire, desire. His gestures are strong and romantic. Where did he learn to carry the woman to the couch? His long, long slender body. Lean. Lean and strong. His nervous, wiry, electric quality suits mine.
For ten days I thought my night with him would not be repeated.
He challenges my strength, my softness.
We never went out to dinner. We cooked here, together. He is active, capable, free. He travels on little money. He plays the guitar. He sings. He speaks Spanish. He prints to earn a living. He is healthy and beautiful and alive. […]
The children entered my womb seeking refuge and peace, and while I felt desire immediately, another part of me, the strong part, lay dormant, aroused only occasionally. But Rupert challenges this part of me. […]
He likes rhythm. His impulsiveness is a delight, his vehemence, his beauty. I suppose when I did not believe in my own beauty, I did not dare love beauty. […]
Life heals you if you allow it to flow, if you do not allow it to trap you.
Have I achieved freedom? Freedom? Freedom?
That no one should be able to destroy you, enslave you, paralyze you?

The Anaïs who writes here tonight is the same child Anaïs who could not believe in happiness. I write tonight to reassure myself that it is true and palpable. With words, I must touch this. […]
Touch, oh, touch this man of fire, who enters smiling, who throws off his coat, who is free and timeless, who comes with his guitar. We forget to make dinner, because he begins to kiss me, to kiss me, to kiss me, until we are in a frenzy. His mouth. It is he who kisses, takes, and every move is strong. […] I feel his sex against mine, the sexual act is so violent, each spurt of semen causing a tremor through his body, a somersault, and he puts me in such a frenzy that I feel as if I were not experiencing one orgasm or two, but hundreds of them. Frenzy! Frenzy! He comes twice without leaving me.
Rupert enjoys his food, enjoys his pipe, enjoys resting after dinner with his head on my breast, enjoys playing his guitar, enjoys singing.
Oh, god, he is a man, a sensual man, a romantic.
Wildly beautiful. Intense. Healthy.
I cannot believe it...
As he sits there singing warmly with color and power, playing the guitar he taught himself to play, with his beautiful face, his long, slender neck, his ruddy hands which are not delicate, but strong, the rich, warm tones of his skin, his beautiful teeth, I cannot believe it.
Has my charm brought me this?
For the first time, I allowed my joy to explode. I had been subdued, passive. I received him with effervescence, but not love, no words of love, for this is passion. How good it is to be so thoroughly caressed, to be caressed and kissed while I cook, to be caressed and kissed every moment.
He looks at Under a Glass Bell, which I finally decided to give to him, and like me, he reads one phrase and divines the rest. One phrase of my preface, and taking me in his arms, he rocks me and says: "But we need the dreamer! We need dreamers!"
After making love to exhaustion, he says, "You destroy me, you destroy me only to give birth to me again, each time a new man!"
Life again! Life!

Mine:

I think what I want more than anything is equality. Equal strength, equal goals, equal effort.

I want a way out of fantasising about X.

Do I want to keep engaging with this creative writing dialogue? Maybe. I just don’t expect it to go anywhere. It’s more so an opportunity to indulge my romantic fantasy. A creative intelligent mocking caring slightly acerbic woman who wants to start a family.

There’s an element of X that is humorous and ridiculous. Silly almost. Yet tormented at the same time. Odd.

I think having one sexual partner in seven years for seventeen weeks is not how I would wish for someone to spend their late twenties and early thirties. I blame things like porn but that assumes I had options and felt safe exploring sexual relationships which I fundamentally don’t.

I get home and start crying waiting for the lift. A comes in of all people. “Hello beautiful man.”

[!! · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anaïs Nin vive por nosotros todo aquello que rechazamos y deseamos secretamente, vive en el constante equívoco del adolescente que tan pregnable es corriendo un riesgo ineluctable; la exposición con el juicio del lector más dispuesto al análisis que a lo vivencial.
El valor del diario es justamente este exhibicionismo del error. La muestra a los 40 años de un yo que se emborracha de narcisismo y de belleza, persigue el capricho y lo captura en la escritura, que comete sincericidios a través de la mentira, que es estancamiento en una huida hacia adelante paradójicamente brillante y valiente, que transmuta su sintética juventud en una repetición de imágenes de dormitorio y la calle que va de la casa del amante al hogar.
De este camino hace un ritual del déjà vu amatorio que en ocasiones derrocha cierto patetismo en la búsqueda de la aceptación ajena. Su mundo resulta poco oxigenado y sin embargo, sus diarios son una joya de la que resalta su rareza y su belleza creada por y para sí misma.

[Bailey Lemoine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting but too much psychoanalysis- the last few sections focused on it very heavily and it was frustrating, although it seemed to help her work through some of her issues.

[Candice · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely fantastic, at times challenging but consistently rich with insight and truth. Not many women are brave enough to share so openly. This level of transparency is inspiring.

[Begonya Plaza · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this woman's writing so much!

[may]

“i am swallowed by the infinite ocean of my own unconscious. i lose my grip on reality, my construction.”

[Alex · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fun and sexy if you can get past all the 🍆.

[Areeba · Rating 5 out of 5]

Unhinged? totally and I loved it.

[Todd Cheng · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having read al!most all of these it is interesting to explore the arch of subtle writing changes she has developed. Grateful for her literary contribution.

[Dolly · Rating 2 out of 5]

I won this on goodreads.

What's good: Personal account of a woman's life from 1939 to 1947. Anais Nin has a very descriptive and intense writing style draws you in, and has many unusual people to make her life interesting.

What's bad: Anais Nin is just not the type of person I would like to spend much time with, let alone be inside her diary. She is narcissistic and sexually oriented. If she wanted to have a husband, two long term affairs, and lots of casual flings that's fine. I just don't want to read about them.

[Michael Bee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Excellent : Again an again she plays the role of creative mother, muse, lover

Painful and beautiful. Like watching the birth of a butterfly.

"We choose not randomly each other. We meet only those who already exists in our subconscious."
Sigmund Freud

Again an again she plays the role of creative mother, muse, lover - all the while taking the depth of her own and her various lovers souls.

..."strength is a rhythm, not an absolute."

"Life heals you if you allow it to flow, if you do not allow it to trap you."

Anaïs Nin, Mirages

[Candi S. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dense stream of consciousness and should have been called the "unedited" diary. I learned some new things about Nin from this book, but the selection of what was included almost drove me mad with its run-on scenes of her isolation and self-destruction by sex. Readers are let in on the secrets that were kept hidden by her naive husband, but they all ran the same theme. Could have been much more compact and still worth the read.

[Sara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Exhilarating book. You go from hell and back with her many times over as she searches for a love that seems to not exist until the very end when Rupert Pole finally enters her life. She goes through many lovers during this time, each of them giving her only fragments of the love she seeks. The ending is a happy and abrupt one, but you know there is much more to come.

[Mills College Library]

818.5209 N714m 2013