In the winter of 1951-52, Anaïs Nin was a writer in despair. More than a dozen publishing houses had rejected her new novel, A Spy in the House of Love , and Nin became desperate for literary acceptance. Encouragement came from an unexpected source. Felix Pollak, an Austrian emigré and Rare Book Librarian at Northwestern University, had been entrusted with the task of acquiring some of Nin’s manuscripts for the library. A longtime admirer of her work and himself an emerging poet, Pollak wrote Nin a letter of appreciation, and this quickly blossomed into an animated and devoted correspondence. Through this correspondence of over 200 letters, both writers present nuanced self-portraits that shed fresh light on their complex personalities. Their frank and open exchange of views on life and art spanned twenty-five years. Editor Gregory H. Mason provides us with a unique insight into the development of these two writers as they grow in their friendship and as artists.
Writer and diarist, born in Paris to a Catalan father and a Danish mother, Anaïs Nin spent many of her early years with Cuban relatives. Later a naturalized American citizen, she lived and worked in Paris, New York and Los Angeles. Author of avant-garde novels in the French surrealistic style and collections of erotica, she is best known for her life and times in The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volumes I-VII (1966-1980).
Specifically enjoyed when they got into an argument for no particular reason that went on for at least a dozen letters and ended with them not speaking for 10 years. For real though interesting read.
A lovely book of unrequited love/lust. Simon was a curator who had taken an interest in Nin's work. The two began corresponding and, though they only met once and occasionally broke things off, continued a long, quasi-love affair through the mail. Simon has some fascinatingly long, rant-like letters in the collection.
I knew any correspondence involving Anais Nin would energize me, but I was surprised to enjoy Felix Pollack's letters much more than hers. As expected it made me want my own literary-minded pen pal. This was a light, fun read after the first mind-numbingly dull 70 pages or so – took their correspondence a bit to gain footing and establish some real substance.