I’ve been on a roll with fabulous memoirs lately. Simone de Beauvoir’s really shines for her intense reflections about life from a young age. This book takes us on a journey with her from infancy to the end of her university career. Her writing is infectious. Without false modesty, she is so sure of how special she is from the get go, thanks to evidently good parenting and the reassurance of her own mind and psyche. As she grows up, she has to face increased challenges due to her social class, her gender, and just the general things everyone goes through. In the end, she’s able to flourish in university, build a solid group of friends, meet some equally as gifted people as herself and slowly shape up the philosophy that will make her immortal.

I liked this book because it gave an intimate look at the philosopher’s life, hinting at the development of her line of thinking, but mostly focusing on the personal experiences. It felt so relatable, like reading a journal, except written a lot better. Simone’s aspirations in her life always felt so natural and realistic. Maybe it’s just because she is an extraordinary individual, but I felt like I could really connect with her through the pages. I really enjoyed how important literature was in her life, one of many relatable elements.

Another, more significant one, was her relationship with the idea of getting married and generally her approach to affection. We see a very one sided account of her feelings for Jaques, she provides this painstakingly passionate narrative, even though she’s writing so many years later, and I for one was really hoping that a sudden turn would show that all the red flags were nothing and they lived happily ever after. But what I appreciated the most was probably the way in which Simone shamelessly exposed her inner thoughts, her continuous fantasies. She has a rich life, but she finds comfort in the idea of being loved by someone, especially when he’s away and he’s just a figment of her imagination. She finds so many justifications for him, but I think, really, she mostly does it for herself. She’s a bit disappointed when reality happens, but she recovers. Maybe it helps, looking back, that his life goes so wrong and he expresses longing for her and regret in the end. Maybe that little victory at the end makes it sweeter. In any case, I loved her honesty and this part of the story felt very relatable to me. Reading the fallout was so painful. 

Also, it was interesting to read about Zazà story in this form. I’d previously read the fictionalised version, the inseparables, which is beautiful in its own right. But this version is even more heartbreaking. The institution of marriage comes out of this book looking quite shabby, and I think that’s only accurate given the time and place. It’s so sad that society, at one point, was so disgustingly single minded about something so intimate. If anything I’m grateful Simone de Beauvoir’s body of work contributed to changing perceptions on it, it vindicates Zazà and everyone else. I don’t begrudge men for doing things I don’t, cause at this point in history, it is entirely my choice, but it does make me angry that they suck so much sometimes. I think this book, without perhaps even setting out to do so, really captures the complexity of human relationships, the difficulty in being loved, the painful line between love and admiration. Maybe it’s just because Simone de Beauvoir really just wanted to be a writer, and she is so talented at it. Maybe her latin translations were just as full of life and poetry as her memoirs end up being, she’s just that good. Either way, I loved this book very much, and yes, it’s another straight addition into the books I wish I’d written club.