~Taiwanese butterflies~Greeting her with gnawing, gnathonic eyes, he tried to buy her time with flattering glances.
Short notes on Tête a Tête, by Hazel Rowley.
Last week I just finished reading this engrossing book about two well-known intellectuals and their romances. Rowley investigates the relationships between Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir and their romantic entanglements with others. A sordid read, yet it fascinates and it never belittles their lives into gossipy land. Their relationship begins as
J-P S and Beaver (Sartre's nickname for Beauvoir) fall in love while young and are at the university. They create a pact were they would never marry or expect monogamy, but would be closest friends and intellectual collaborators for the whole of their lives. And that's what happens. Of course, it gets much messier.
I wondered, after reading this book, if I could have lived a life like theirs? Would I be happy to have an intellectual stimulating relationship with a man I loved, but not have the security of commitment? I admired de Beauvoir's independence and her devotion to her intellectual life, but sometimes, I could imagine that the romantic entanglements would get in the way. The demands of lovers can trivialize the mind. I believe her passion for her other lovers were deep and passionate, but her relationship with Sartre was the one she would rather have.
As for Sartre, often I think his desire for seduction was a compulsion, yet he never ended a relationship cold. He continued to be in touch (if mutually accepted) and even supported many of the women he had affairs with. Dispute his incurable pussyhounding; he was touted as generous, with his time and money. Time is the greatest show of love. We are all limited by time, yet to give someone time in your life is to show the greatest affection.
As for that life, I could accept these premises if I felt that the person was worth it, if they were fair, kind and shared their life with me. Yet, I would prefer to have no other hands, no other lips, no other faces to block my view of his clear, green eyes. The path from me to him, unhindered by obstacles and distractions. Any other desire would be pollution within my intellect. I only want to share my thoughts with him, fully and absolutely.
More in depth reviews-
http://www.newyorker.com/critics/content/articles/050926crbo_books
http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-0060520590-0
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/life/books/reviews/3481073.html
