I truly find myself at a loss for words when it comes to describing the world that this book is capable of transporting you into.

Here, I'm inclined to quote Edmund Wilson on this very matter. He said, "They are half short stories, half dreams, and they mix a sometimes exquisite poetry with a homely realistic observation."

These works take place in a special realm, a world of feminine perception and fancy. What makes it all the more curious and charming is its innocently international nature.

No wonder this stands as by far the most printed work of the artist.

It's as if the book weaves a magical tapestry that entices the reader to step into a unique and captivating universe, one that combines the beauty of poetry with the down-to-earthness of reality, all within the framework of a feminine perspective that has a universal appeal.

I embarked on a literary journey approximately eight or nine years ago, with the intention of delving into the best literature I could get my hands on. The reasoning behind this, in my rather modest mind, was that by reading excellent works, it would inevitably enhance my own writing skills. There was an additional perk too - it might come in handy during a pub quiz, and I wouldn't feel completely out of my depth when engaged in a conversation about books with someone more intellectually inclined than myself.

I began my literary exploration with "War and Peace," which, curiously enough, I found great pleasure in reading. Since then, I have encountered a wide range of books, some of which were truly sublime, while others bordered on the ridiculous. Reading Anaïs Nin's works has been a return to the realm of the sublime.

Most people who are familiar with Anaïs Nin are aware that she is a renowned author of erotica and led a life that was as colorful as her writing. However, this should not overshadow the impact of her other literary works, such as her short stories. In her short stories, she takes the ordinary and the mundane aspects of life and magnifies them under a microscope, transforming things, people, and actions into something ephemeral and wondrous. Reading a short story by her is like seeing the world through fresh, innocent eyes that are untainted by the crassness of corporatism, greed, selfishness, and ulterior motives. It is almost childlike in its appreciation of things at face value.

Any writer who has ever pondered how to describe something should put aside whatever they are currently reading and turn to the short stories of Anaïs Nin. Her style is as unique, elegant, and individual as she was. She is like a fine-nibbed fountain pen filled with Vert de Gris ink in a world dominated by blue Bic ball-point pens.

Anaïs Nin may have been a hedonist or an epicure, and perhaps she did some questionable things in her life. But as a writer, observer, and philosopher, she was truly of the first class. I feel a sense of growth and enrichment from having read this collection of her works.

If I'm fortunate enough, perhaps I might be able to absorb some of her talent through osmosis.

My least favorite kind of fiction book is short stories. However, one of my favorite writers is Anais Nin. So, on my most recent trip to the library, I decided to see which was stronger: my love of Nin or my hatred of short stories.

Contrary to the common saying, hate seemed to trump love this time. Well, perhaps "hate" is too strong a word. But this was definitely the writing that I liked least by her. Nevertheless, she did the best job one could do with short stories. The way she paints a picture is truly outstanding, far above what I've experienced from just about anyone else I've read.

"Under a Glass Bell" is more like poetry than prose. When I finish reading prose, I feel like I can point to characters and story lines and have a general idea of what happened between the first and last words. With poetry, it's different. I have no idea what actually happened, if anything, because it's not really linear or sensical in the traditional way. But I sure do feel it. The feeling I got from these vignettes is almost indescribable. It was like walking through an art gallery or doing a bunch of ketamine and putting on some Trampled by Turtles. I can't explain it, and you might experience something completely different, but goddamn was it fun and mind-altering.

I'm done with short stories for at least the time being, but I don't think I'll ever be done with Anais Nin. Buying her diaries is definitely on my 2025 list. I'm eager to explore more of her unique and captivating writing.

Is Nin a broken genius or an esoteric, pseudo-intellectual, in love not with the feminine form but rather her own voice? All of the above? These are my thoughts after reading this collection.

In some of the stories, there is a truly riveting power. The vignette is effectively utilized as a medium for powerful expression, drawing the reader in and holding their attention. It's as if the words on the page come alive and create a vivid world.

However, in other parts, there is just a sardonic drone. This leaves the reader puzzled, wondering what the author was truly trying to convey. The lack of clarity makes it difficult to fully engage with the text.

Is it worth reading? I suppose so. There are moments of brilliance that make it worthwhile. But if it had been any longer, I may have a different answer. The inconsistent quality could potentially wear on the reader.

Let it be known that the introduction is captivating though! It sets the stage and piques the reader's interest, making them eager to delve into the collection.

There isn’t any erotic meaning in this book.

I think she gets so misunderstood sometimes as this random person writing old French people smut. It's truly a misrepresentation.

I quite liked the second half. In fact, my favorite passages were the ones about the houseboat and Hejda.

Anaïs has a powerful message for us women. She tells us never to shrink back home into someone else's proportions. Instead, we should do whatever the hell we want to be happy. We should break free from the constraints and expectations that others impose on us and pursue our own dreams and desires.

We should be brave enough to be ourselves and not be afraid of what others might think. This is a liberating and empowering message that every woman should hear and embrace.

I have a deep affection for Anaïs Nin. Her works have always intrigued and inspired me. However, I must admit that there is one aspect that has left me a bit disappointed. When she describes a “veiled orient woman,” some of her word choices seem rather questionable.

It makes me wonder if there was a lack of cultural understanding or perhaps a certain stereotype that influenced her description. In today's world, where we strive for inclusivity and respect for different cultures, such descriptions can come across as inappropriate.

Nevertheless, I still appreciate Anaïs Nin's overall body of work and the unique perspectives she offers. I believe that we can learn from both her strengths and her shortcomings. It is important to be critical of the language we use and the images we present, especially when it comes to representing other cultures.

Maybe in the future, we can all strive to be more sensitive and accurate in our descriptions, so that we can truly celebrate the beauty and diversity of the world around us.

I hadn't expected to enjoy this book. I had formed a mental image of Anaïs Nin as an author and fully expected to hate it. In fact, I was so convinced that I wouldn't like it that I didn't want to waste my time starting from the beginning. So, I opened it up in the middle and began reading from the chapter, 'The Mohican'.

What a pleasant surprise it was! It was truly enchanting. Her writing is delicate and thoughtful, subtle and surreal, deeply perceptive, cool yet quite moving. It's really prose-poetry.

The book consists of a series of character studies and vignettes. They are very short, not ambitious or epic, but extremely beautiful and deeply satisfying.

The Mohican sat in his little room under the roof, observing our lives and making predictions. All he required were the hour, date, and place of birth. Then he would disappear for several days into his laboratory of the soul. We would only see him again when the horoscope was, as he put it, properly infused, as if he were concocting some herb potion for us. Did he truly know when disease and madness would strike? Did he know when we were going to love, unite, or separate? The Mohican believed he knew, and when we were lost or confused, we wanted to believe too. However, what we discovered over time was that he knew no more than we did about the actual occurrence of an event. He couldn't distinguish between potentiality and fulfillment, between the dream and the actuality. Many of the experiences and events he predicted never materialized in our lives; they only happened in the dream. And many dreams that he expected to remain as myths took on a human form and became real.

His greatest suffering stemmed from his inability to interpret his own horoscope. Since the ultimate statement depended on the interpretation of the facts, he couldn't trust his own objectivity. He was completely crushed by a sense of fatality.

He had a slow walk, like a somnambulist trapped in the past and unable to move forward in the present. He was burdened with memories, weighed down by them. From all his researches and calculations, he extracted only the poison of fatality. He saw only the madness of the world and the approach of a great, engulfing catastrophe. For the Mohican, all life was just a minor crystal phenomenon on the surface of a planet. As a result, people seemed to him to lack human density. He saw their phosphorescence. He spoke of the intensity or feebleness of the light within them. Their angers were like tongues of red hydrogen leaping out, and an act of tenderness was like froth spewed from Venus. The fixity of his hypnotic gaze uncovered the water vapors of unspoken words and unmaterialized intentions. He saw us all as lacking a center of gravity, mere cosmic rays of light liberated by the explosion of unsteady stars.

Favorite stories often have the power to transport us to different worlds and touch our hearts. One such story is "The Labyrinth." It takes us on a thrilling adventure through a complex maze, filled with mystery and danger. The protagonist must use their wits and courage to find their way out.

Another captivating story is "The Mouse." This charming tale follows the life of a small mouse as it navigates through a big and sometimes scary world. We watch as the mouse faces various challenges and overcomes them with its determination and resourcefulness.

"Birth" is also a favorite story that explores the miracle of new life. It shows the journey from conception to birth, highlighting the beauty and wonder of this natural process. Through this story, we gain a deeper appreciation for the gift of life.

These stories, "The Labyrinth," "The Mouse," and "Birth," each offer unique perspectives and emotions, making them truly unforgettable. They have the ability to inspire, entertain, and teach us valuable lessons about life. Whether we are young or old, these stories continue to capture our imaginations and remain favorites for a lifetime.

A remarkable technical model is the serial, but these stories are even crazier than the serial. What I like most is the story of the garbage collector and what comes after it. It deserves a full mark despite the fact that the translation is a bit short.

Regarding the house of its time with the translation of Mahmoud Al-Munqidh Al-Hashimi.

A unique collection of strange stories in their themes that approach the serial and as if they are paintings drawn with a meticulous pen.

These stories offer a captivating blend of mystery, imagination, and unexpected twists. Each tale takes the reader on a journey into a world where the ordinary becomes extraordinary.

The author's vivid descriptions bring the characters and settings to life, making it easy for the reader to immerse themselves in the narrative.

Whether it's a story about a hidden secret, a supernatural encounter, or a psychological thriller, this collection has something for everyone.

Prepare to be entertained, intrigued, and perhaps even a little bit scared as you explore the pages of this one-of-a-kind collection of strange stories.

Thirteen short stories by the infamous diarist.


Book Review: Under a Glass Bell is an extraordinary collection of stories that delves deep into the realm of language. It explores the poetry, beauty, and magic that words can possess, and how to capture those elusive words that can describe the indescribable emotions. In some of her work, Anais Nin appears as a charming narcissist, with her intense interest in her own life being so captivating that it becomes contagious. Only later does one pause to wonder about spending an entire day absorbed in someone else's perhaps not-so-interesting life. However, this is still far better than those histrionic narcissists who drive others away in a frenzy to avoid injury. But Under a Glass Bell is not about Nin examining her life under a microscope with obsessive detail. It is a book for those who have a profound love for language. Those who believe in the power of spells, incantations, and the inherent magic of words. It is not concerned with plot or revelation in the traditional sense, nor with meaning or understanding. The only revelation lies within the language itself. It demands to be read slowly, savoring each sentence. For example, consider this sentence about the tramps by the Seine: "They threw the newspapers in the river and this was their prayer: to be carried, lifted, borne down, without feeling the hard bone of pain in man, lodged in his skeleton, but only the pulse of flowing blood." From the same story, "Houseboat": "Tiny birds sat in weeds asking for no food and singing no song but the soft chant of metamorphosis, and each time they opened their beaks the webbed stained-glass windows decomposed into snakes and ribbons of sulphur." If such sentences speak to you, then you will surely love Under a Glass Bell. I can envision this book becoming a cult favorite among those who enjoy getting lost and then found again in a world of overwhelming emotions, sleepwalking, and being mesmerized by words, syllables, and vivid images like "the dew of her anxiety clouded her face". I can even picture Patti Smith finding enjoyment in this book, as some of the passages reminded me of her memoirs. Many of the stories are deep character sketches and portraits of people Nin knew, such as "The Mouse" and "The Mohican". Some are about people she didn't know but imagined, while others are fables and fairy tales discovered in old houses. A couple of entries, the "labyrinth" stories, are related to her famous diaries. Others are fantasies, illusions, and hallucinations. Nin's deepest emotions are touched upon here. One note of interest: there is some controversy regarding the order of the stories. In 1995, Gunther Stuhlmann arranged the stories in "chronological order" according to a revelatory introduction that I have yet to find. My collection, from 1948, is in the original sequence. Under a Glass Bell is truly for those with unique and esoteric tastes. It is a book for wizards who can uncover a whole universe within just 17 words. [3½★]

My best friend Elia, who is also one of the few persons whose opinion I trust, recommended this book to me.

She was in her Nin phase and I thought I'd give it a try too. When I started reading it, I was very surprised. My first impression was that I couldn't understand anything! I like clear plots and these short stories were everything but clear.

I tried to analyze what was happening and realized that they were written in such a way on purpose. It is not simply the author's mark; because halfway through the book we discover another writing style, the ordinary straightforward one which was as good as the latter, if not better.

In my opinion, the author's aim in the first few short stories was not to give the reader something obvious that can be easily enjoyed. Instead, she wanted him/her to read for the sake of the printed words and not the story itself. The beginning and the ending are not per se important to her in these stories as much as being able to convey the feelings, and that I confirm she did do excellently!

Even though I did not follow the plots quite well, this did not stop me from re-reading many passages over and over again because they were just mind-blowing. I knew from the beginning that I was dealing with a strong author. Then halfway through the book, I had more than my dose of satisfaction. The stories were clear, and I was able to appreciate every written letter.

I highly recommend that you read these three stories: Hedja, The mouse, and Birth. The first talks about an oriental woman and her confidence issues. The second is about a maid and her life fears and finally the third deals with Nin's abortion. Described like that, you'd think nothing is original. I beg to differ. You just have to take my word for it and read them for yourself to see. Just amazing!

Finally, I just wanted to say that this book might be one of the hardest to explain. If I were to simply describe it, I would say that the first half of it can be compared to abstract paintings: Unclear but beautiful. The second is more like clear normal paintings that are just perfect for my taste. The author excelled in both types: Chapeau!