Jean, among the paintings, my dream took me, where I could sit for days to admire your eternal beauty. I fell in love with your eternity, Jean. Because your eternity never changes. I was so afraid of seeing you grow old, Jean. I love you in a variable that will never leave me. I wished that you would die so that no one could take you away from me, and I would be in love with the painting of your eternity where you always appear forever.

I often find myself lost in thoughts of you, Jean. Your image is etched in my mind like a precious painting. The way you look, the way you smile, it all seems so eternal to me.

Sometimes I wonder if this love for your eternity is just an illusion. But then I look at the paintings and I am reminded of the beauty that you possess. It is a beauty that transcends time and space.

I know that my wish for you to die may seem cruel, but it is out of my fear of losing you. I want to keep you in my heart forever, just like the painting of your eternity.

I married a man, Jeanne said, who had never seen painted eyes weep, and on the day of my wedding I wept.

Sadly, this isn't about miraculous weeping paintings. However, perhaps what's even better is that it is written like one.

I read this earlier this year (as a recommendation on what I like to call "dreamlike waterscapes"). I forget exactly when, but it was certainly after reading Under a Glass Bell because Jeanne was a familiar character. And thus, the second part seemed easier to make sense of.

Rereading helped overall (one cannot read, only reread), although not by much, since this piece is shaped like incense smoke. It has a certain ethereal quality that makes it both beautiful and a bit elusive. The words seem to float and twirl, much like the tendrils of smoke rising from a burning incense stick. It's a unique and captivating read that leaves a lasting impression.

I have almost no idea what I just read, but I dog-eared a greater percentage of pages than any other book to date.

The introduction in the Swallow Press edition is enormously helpful. Reading this book is like crossing a chest-high river which, while it moves slowly and without apparent malice, has a bed of silt that threatens to suck the reader's feet under at one moment, and allow them to glide seamlessly over the most important image in the next. The introduction is like some nice, nubbly rocks in that river, providing footing. I have lost my metaphor, but I suspect that Nin does that with fair regularity in this prose poem / novel / thing. She plows forward regardless, and I shall do the same.

Written in the midst of a deep if often adversarial relationship with Henry Miller, it's no surprise that House of Incest is ridden with sensuality and sex. There is the gross, 'naming bodily fluids' type of sex-writing. But it continues to be relevant for every reason that Henry Miller does not. Nin is never explicit for longer than a phrase at a time. Instead, she draws out these incredible moments of emotional clarity from dense, synesthesic passages. Her characters are like those of fairy tales, even if they are based on real people in Nin's life. She has no desire to render them as round people on the physical plane. So, she renders them as they appear on the plane of her desire. They are all Gods. They are imaginary gardens with real toads in them. This is incredible because Nin started with real gardens (the people on whom her characters are based), and rather than fictionalizing them, she opened them up to find the fertile imaginative ground they contained for her. And there she cultivated entirely new, real truths.

The introduction would have me believe that this is a book about sex, and that Nin's thesis is that all love is incest because we only love the parts of ourselves reflected in the beloved. Ok, fine. More than anything else, I thought this was a book about sensuality, madness, and the necessity of writing to make sense or genuine connection to others out of the former. Nin is always grasping for the thread that will tie an experience together, or that will pull her out of a moment of madness, or (as in the introduction) the thread attached to her heart, which she yanks out of her chest and plays music on.

Pretty incredible stuff, my friends.

Sabina! In one word, amazing! But I don't even know if this amazing is good or bad! A world full of confused and complex sentences! I gave it three stars, but still don't know why! I have to read the patience of this book again, and maybe then I'll give it five stars or one star! But in both cases, the author's enthusiasm for writing and the depth of his information is evident. Let's quote some of the text of the book together:

"This is a book that you wrote

And this woman is you

That I am"

"I can't be sure of any event or place, except my loneliness"

"I am the most tired woman in the world. When I wake up, I'm tired. Life requires an effort that I can't make."

"When she was sitting in the sun and her shadow had fallen on the back of the chair, I kissed her shadow. I kissed her shadow and the kiss didn't touch her, the kiss was lost in the air and melted with the shadow. Our love for each other is like a long shadow kiss, hopeless of happening"

"My hands were always clenched tightly in my embrace. I wanted to embrace the light, the wind, the sun, the night and the whole world and hold them. I wanted to caress, give tenderness, rock, give peace, be surrounded and surround. I was under pressure and I held so many things in my embrace that they broke. They broke and moved away from me. Then everything moved away from me and I cried. And I was sentenced to not holding."

I don't think I understood everything that happened in there.

The story seemed to be filled with complex details and twists that left me a bit confused at times.

However, despite my lack of complete comprehension, I have to admit that it was really well written.

The author's use of language was engaging and vivid, painting a clear picture in my mind.

The descriptions were so detailed that I could almost feel as if I was a part of the story.

Even though I may not have grasped every single aspect, I still found myself captivated by the overall narrative.

It made me want to go back and read it again, hoping to uncover the hidden meanings and connections that I might have missed the first time around.

I believe that with each reread, I will gain a deeper understanding and appreciation for the author's craftsmanship.

Overall, it was a remarkable piece of writing that left a lasting impression on me.

Love without conscience, move effortlessly in the soft flow of water and desire, breathe in an ecstasy of dissolution…

This description evokes a sense of a state that is both captivating and perhaps a bit dangerous. It implies a kind of abandon, a surrender to the forces of passion and the elements.

When one loves without conscience, it might mean that they are acting solely on impulse, without considering the consequences or the rights and feelings of others. Moving effortlessly in the water and desire suggests a fluidity and ease, as if carried along by an irresistible current.

Respiring in an ecstasy of dissolution could imply a loss of self, a merging with something greater or a dissolution of the boundaries that normally define us. It is a state that seems to be on the verge of something profound, yet it also leaves one vulnerable and exposed.

Overall, this image paints a picture of a passionate and intense experience that challenges our notions of love, self, and the boundaries of our existence.

Anaïs Nin doesn't deserve a lot of praise as a writer more than what she gets among us - The prose in this book made me cry. I was reading this and enjoying the amazing descriptions and metaphors and it stole my heart, then suddenly I realized the truth that I was crying.

I'm not even sure exactly what caused this because it wasn't what I call the usual source of tears but there was something strange and beautiful in Nin's writing that affected me in those passages, and I want to read it again to discover that quietly.

**I'm very grateful for such a book that I came across by chance. Grateful for that poetic world that takes you to God even when you resist with that sweet smile of yours and there are no tears without a cause or perhaps tears of wonder.**

28/3/2020

Entering the world of Anais Nin for the first time is a unique experience.

The text seems to be a kind of exploration into the deep recesses of the mind, like a long, strange, and branching dream. The analogies used by Anais Nin are extremely sharp, and those who have felt similar emotions know the truth of her text. It is a text written from within, a text that makes one lose oneself in one's own world rather than in the world of Anais Nin. Therefore, one will find a lot of frankness. Humans don't like their own true faces.

Her words have the power to touch the core of our being and make us reflect on our innermost selves.

Reading Anais Nin is like embarking on a journey of self-discovery, where we are forced to confront our fears, desires, and insecurities.

It is a challenging but ultimately rewarding experience that can change the way we view ourselves and the world around us.

Emotional Vomit. A True Love of Mine Really

Love is such a complex and powerful emotion. It can make us feel on top of the world one moment and completely heartbroken the next. I have experienced this rollercoaster of emotions with a true love of mine.

Our story began like a fairytale. We met in a coffee shop, and from the moment our eyes met, I knew there was something special. We talked for hours, sharing our dreams, hopes, and fears. It felt like we had known each other forever.

As time went on, our relationship grew stronger. We would go on adventures together, explore new places, and create memories that would last a lifetime. But like any relationship, we also had our challenges. There were times when we would argue, and I would feel like giving up. But every time, we would find a way to work things out and come back stronger.

However, fate had other plans for us. For reasons beyond our control, we had to part ways. It was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. But even though we are no longer together, I know that our love will always be a part of me. It will be a reminder of the beautiful times we shared and the person I became because of him.

This book is not about literal incest.

It delves into the complex realm of sexual desires that an individual may have towards their own mental constructs of a person, specifically a part of the gender they are sexually inclined towards. This occurs because of the difficulty in finding such idealized equivalents in the real world.

It can be seen as a form of narcissism that is exacerbated by societal alienation. In the case of Sabina, it is her imaginary brother, a creation of her own mind, who diverts her attention from every societal event through lasciviousness.

The prose of this book is exquisitely poetic, unfolding in a series of dreamy and surreal sequences.

Moreover, this is the very first published work of Anaïs, which is truly remarkable. However, since this book operates mainly on the subconscious level, I feel compelled to read it again in some other altered states of mind to fully grasp its depth and meaning.

House of Incest is truly an extraordinary piece of literature.

It stands out as one of the very best books when it comes to exploring trauma and the complex process of emotional healing.

The author has a unique ability to present these profound themes in a way that engages the reader's creativity and imagination.

It's not just a regular book; it's an otherworldly read that takes you on a journey through the depths of human emotion.

As you turn the pages, you'll find yourself completely immersed in the story, feeling every emotion along with the characters.

The writing is so vivid and powerful that it stays with you long after you've finished reading.

House of Incest is a must-read for anyone interested in understanding the human psyche and the power of literature to heal and transform.

It's a book that will leave a lasting impression and change the way you look at trauma and emotional processing forever.

I wanted to rate the book just 5 pages after I started reading it. Rating the book was truly the only conceivable action that could accurately reflect just how much I was completely blown away or utterly shocked by the sheer brilliance of what humans are capable of writing. I very rarely rate books, even those that I really, really like.

But for my very first Anais book, it was an eye-opening experience. I learned a great deal about the human condition. Well, perhaps not an enormous amount. And maybe it wasn't so much about the human condition as it was about myself. It was truly crazy walking in her stream of thoughts. I was able to completely forget the messiness that usually fills my head.

Despite the incredibly lovely experience of reading this book, I have to admit that I also learned a gazillion new words. I found myself staring at many sentences, rereading them multiple times, and even ignoring some because...

I am most definitely going to read other Anais books in the future, but not any time soon. I need to let this experience soak in and marinate for a while before delving into another one of her works.