Literature

Anaïs Nin, on the sea of lies

5 reading minutes

written by Le Regard Libre · November 24, 2020 · 0 comment

Tuesday's books - Amélie Wauthier

Two years ago, I sent my The very first review for Le Regard Libre. I was moved by a grandson’s heartbreaking tribute to his ninety-five-year-old grandmother, who was forced to move into a rather dismal nursing home. Since then, I’ve read one article after another and written one column after another without even having time to count them. And so today, I’m writing my final piece for “Tuesday Books.”.

I wanted, for the occasion, to mark the moment. To discover and share with you the Ultimate Work that would make our hearts tremble and thrill. The quest for the Holy Grail, in short—a quest forever in vain. Until that Saturday, when my mailbox wouldn’t close quite right anymore. Amid the bills and registered letters I’d deliberately ignored, there it was—left there the day before or that very morning by a friend who knows me well. One hundred and ninety pages of a story that would prove to be intense, authentic, and captivating.

Read also | Bad books, that plague

What struck me first, surprisingly, was the weight of the book. One hundred and ninety pages for a graphic novel—as you can imagine, that’s quite a bit of paper. Intrigued, I quickly opened it to a random page to get a feel for the style of the illustrations I was about to encounter. I’m uncompromising—I can’t stand those graphic artists whose computer-generated work very (very) rarely captures the warmth and softness of a paper illustration.

And bam, right in the face! The characters, the curves, and the lines on page 138 instantly take my breath away. In disbelief, I frantically flip through the pages and, along the way, am completely blown away. Léonie Bischoff’s illustrations exude delicacy, grace, and strength. The characters’ expressions are spot-on and flawless; the artist brings them to life with a refined and perfectly precise style. It’s everything I love! How is it that I’m only discovering her now?!

So I decide to do things the right way and start this book from the beginning. I return to the cover, which I can now fully appreciate without fear of being disappointed. The woman I assume to be Anaïs Nin proudly clutches a book to her chest while a blue wave washes over her up to her hips, revealing a less demure, wilder alter ego in her reflection. The subtitle, «Under the Sea of Lies,» further piques my curiosity, and it is with a heart full of longing and hope that I dive into this new novel.

The story quickly comes to life, and I’m convinced that I’m very likely to enjoy it. I’m introduced to Anaïs, a young artist of mixed heritage, and her banker husband, Hugo. Both seem incredibly endearing right from the start. The story takes place in the first half of the 20th^th century, at a time when religion and morality played a significant role. This, however, does not prevent our heroine from breaking free from the social norms and the upbringing she received. Ever since she was a child, Anaïs has kept a diary. In it, she records her life, her doubts, and her inner turmoil—all of which make her a complex woman, full of contradictions and secrets.

This is the story of a sensitive and passionate artist, eager to follow her instincts and desires and to let the woman she is fully blossom in a society where she is so often devalued and dominated. It is also the story of a quest—a quest for an absolute that is stronger and more vibrant than life itself. Above all, these are the chronicles of a woman in love who feels stifled by the life she is allowed to live and who will never stop fighting—from guilt to taking control. What if, in the end, this were simply right and natural?

Write to the author: amelie.wauthier@leregardlibre.com

Photo credit: © Amélie Wauthier for Le Regard Libre