A review by paperrcuts
House of Incest by Anaïs Nin

5.0

"There is a fissure in my vision and madness will always rush through. Lean over me, at the bedside of my madness, and let me stand without crutches. I am an insane woman for whom houses wink and open their bellies. Significance stares at me from everywhere, like a gigantic underlying ghostliness. Significance emerges out of dank alleys and sombre faces, leans out of the windows of strange houses. I am constantly reconstructing a pattern of something forever lost and which I cannot forget; I catch the odors of the past on street corners and I am aware of the men who will be born tomorrow. Behind windows there are either enemies or worshippers. Never neutrality or passivity. Always intention and premeditation. Even stones have for me druidical expressions. I walk ahead of myself in perpetual expectancy of miracles."