), a poshto mi je ipak, i ne samo meni, bila prirasla srcu , a isto tako poshto sluchajno nadjoh ova pisma koja dole prenosim, odluchih da je ponovo pokrenem - nova tema, nova sreca ovaj put cu krenuti malo drugachije. naletjeh sluchajno na ova pisma od Simone de Beauvoir (A Transatlantic Love Affair), zhene koju jako cijenim i chijim se dostignucima divim.
ova pisma su malo manje poznata od njene prepiske sa Sartreom. Upucena su americhkom piscu Nelsonu Algrenu (The Man With the Golden Arm), kojeg je Beauvoir upoznala tokom svojih putovanja po konferencijama u SAD. Sa njim je vezala prvo strastvena ljubav, koja je kasnije preshla u prijateljstvo, a onda zamrla...kako se to valjda vec deshava. a i sartre je uvijek bio negdje tu, kao shto se da primijetiti, ochito ne kao seksualni partner (to ih izgleda nije drzhalo dugo), nego kao neko od koga se jednostavno nije mogla odvojiti, jer ju je "trebao" (kako je dobro znati da je i de Beauvoir ipak bila samo obichna smrtnica
)uglavnom, za razliku od pisama upucenih Sartre-u, koja obiluju svim i svachim, i ljubavlju, i ljubomorom, i razmjenom ideja, ovo su prije svega ljubavna pisma... obratite pazhnju na to kako bi jedna od najvecih dama feminizma bila spremna da radi kucne poslove za chovjeka kojeg voli
:Dobratite pazhnju na to da chak ni velika de Beauvoir nije bila poshtedjena romantike i patetike - valjda i zato shto svako intelektualiziranje postaje besmisleno kad dodje do ovakvog otvaranja prma voljenoj osobi.
eto, prosudite sami.
Fri. 23rd may 1947
I went to bed at 10 , and as there was no nice man to prevent me from sleeping, I slept until twelve the next morning...I write to you with the little red bright stylo you have given to me; and I have your ring at my finger. It is the first time I ever wore a ring and everybody in Paris was very amazed...(I wait eagerly for your letter, I miss you, you know , I miss your lips, your hands, your whole warm and strong body, and your face and your smiles, your voice. I miss you. But I like missing you so hard because it makes me feel strongly that you are not a dream, you are real, you are living, and I'll meet you again. A week ago we were yet together in the New York room. It seems long before meeting you again.) I kiss your dear face, your sweet lips with the most loving kisses. Your Simone. ....Here are little flowers of France I just gathered for you.
Sat 24th May
Dearest Nelson Algren. (I got your letters today, the little yellow letters, and I was very happy. The letters look like yourself, both sad and gay, and loving in a clumsy awkward way, so genuine too. You say I feel what is genuine and what is not and I am very proud of your saying so.... ..write to me very often please)... I love you so warmly so deeply that i am a little amazed at it. I did not think it could happen to me now. Well it happened and I am glad of it though it is pain too. Oh! I should like so much to be near you, to feel your shoulder against my cheek and your arms tightly enclosing me-- and you should look at me, I should look at you and we should know all there is to know and be so happy. your Simone
Thurs 29th May '47
My precious beloved Chicago man... Paris is beautiful. It is blue, and warm with leafy green trees, nice smells, fine women dressed in gay summer dresses and lovers kissing each other in the streets, and people looking happy... you may have your dinner in the open air, while people play nice bad music, you eat very good food with very good wine, feeling the sky above your head and the big city at your feet. ... (continues).. I love you and I kiss you passionately. your simone
Wed 4th June
My beloved husband.... I do not feel sensible at all this night, I feel unhappy. Let me cry a little. It would be so fine to cry in your arms. I cry because I do not cry in your arms, this is not sensible at all because if I were in your arms I should not cry. It is stupid to write love letters, love is not something you can put in letters..
Wed 23 july 1947
My own beloved one, ... I love you but do I deserve your love if I do not give you my life? I tried to explain to you I cannot give my life to you. Do you understand it? Are you resentful about it? will you never be? ...the question is in my heart and my heart aches with it: is it right to give something of oneself without being ready to give everything? may I love him and tell him I love him without intending to give my whole life if he asked for it? will he never hate me? when we shall meet again we do not know what will happen, I just know that whatever happens i will never be able to give everything to you... ...Oh darling it is the hell to be so far away and unable to look at each other when you speak about such important things
Fri 3rd oct 47
Camus told me I looked younger than before and "disgustingly happy" youth and happiness were given by you. yeah it is happiness even through so many tears.)
Fri 3rd oct 47
You asked me once if i were a child or a wise woman...I am not wise but rather a coward and until my coming back to Paris I was reluctant, a little afraid to admit love in all its deepness and strength...it means now my happiness is in your hands and in a way i sdhould rather have kept it in mine, but well..I cannot help it anymore I have to admit this dependence,... besides my working life in France I care for nothing actually but you... In the Spring when i come back for a long time I'll wash the dishes and mop the floor and go to buy eggs and rum cake by myself I shall not touch your hair or cheek or shoulder without being allowed to do so; I shall try not to be sad when you'll be ill tempered because of the morning mail ...I shall not interfere with your freedom...to live near you is the only thing I care for. ... I am a little afraid of love, it makes me rather stupid. Anyway I spoke the way I felt I shall say something more since I have it in the heart: Nelson now I love you so much do not begin to love me less.
Wed 4th June
My beloved husband.... I do not feel sensible at all this night, I feel unhappy. Let me cry a little. It would be so fine to cry in your arms. I cry because I do not cry in your arms, this is not sensible at all because if I were in your arms I should not cry. It is stupid to write love letters, love is not something you can put in letters..
Mon 18th Aug 1947
I like so much the way you are so greedy about life and yet so quiet, your eager greediness and your patience, and your way of not asking much of life and yet taking much because you are so human and alive that you find much in everything.... and I fell in love with you once more my sweet crocodile man.
Sat 15 nov 47
love and love to my dearest husband last yr in this rainy winter i had never heard of you nor you of me... Darling if I had my cheek on your shoulder and could whisper softly in your ear I should dare to ask: Nelson, do you feel more happy than last winter? Do you feel happy to be so stupidly loved by your frog ?...
Fri 21 nov 47
...I really care much for writing since I am a child, I gave my life to it, but you never know what you do, and sometimes I am afraid I shall never really do what I want to. Then I try to do something with Sartre in intellectual french life, with the hope it has real human meaning-- and i have not much hope. Sometimes you can work without hope, but when you are weak it becomes difficult. Then I stay far away from the man I love, from the happiness he gives to me: if I do not believe in the reasons of staying away everything comes wrong.... yesterday night, I felt I was falling in the bottom of a dark deadly pit and I struggled for two hours in fever and anguish and a kind of dispair... My beloved one peace and longing of my heart Nelson it was sweet to speak to you in this very confident(ial) quiet way, to speak about things I should not tell anybody if i did not feel so mixed with him. I like to tell everything to you good or bad and to have you stroking my hair and shoulder and looking at me with understanding loving eyes. I feel your love so precious more than anything in my whole life. I kiss your sweet loving lips. Your own Simone.
ADDITION: I write to you by the light of a candlestick, it is very romantic, perhaps too romantic...
Sat 6 Dec 47
"the general idea is that you should feel yourself free as long as you dont betray our love, whcih could only be done if you really intended to. I fell many unpleasant remorses for having deprived you of some pleasant time. I am ashamed of it...I love you too much in a physical way too not to feel any jealousy, I think should have to be very cold blooded ... not to feel a bad pang in the heart, but this kind of animal instinct does not matter very much...next time you just sleep with the woman if you want to. Nevertheless, I take it as a tender lovely gift that this time you did not. But a gift is not an alimony; nobody is grateful for an alimony because it is due; you owe me nothing, that is why the gift was precious; dont let us make a system with it..
From "La force des choses"
Often preached, rarely practiced, complete fidelity is usually experienced by those who impose it upon themselves as a mutilation; they console themsleves for it by sublimations or by drink...jealousy and boredom. There are many couples who conclude the same pact as Sartre and myself: to maintain throughout all deviations from the main path a "certain fidelity". ...such an undertaking has its risks. it is always poss that one of the partners may prefer a new attachment to the old one....[then] a victim and a torturer confront each other. Sartre and I have been more ambitious [than allowing ourselves mere "passing sexual liasons"] it has been our wish to experience "contingent loves".
Sat 14 Jan
Oh Nelson! I'll be nice , and good, you'll see, I'll wash the floor, I'll cook whole meals, I'll write your book as well as mine, I'll make love to you ten times a night and as much in the day, even if i feel a bit tired. yea it will be smart to live in a little home of our own, writing and swimming and loving each other.
Thurs 23 Feb 1948
I did not suspect anything new could happen in my life, I felt too old; so few things are really worth caring for them, and then you gave me a second youth all was so cleverly done, I am yet wondering how you contrived it. It makes me a little afraid of you: if you asre so tricky, you could make me unhappy too. Maybe it would be wiser not to take this chance, not to go to America at all.....I have a gown made for you and me, that is the one I'll put off when I'll be with you, I love it, not because I'll put it on, but because I'll put it off. I hope you'll find it is really nice gown for undressing. ...long loving kisses for you, my beloved husband. Your Simone
15th July 1948
So Nelson, once more the cab drove away and i saw your face for the last time.. Oh darling it is hard to write... you have to know that it is not for pleasure or glamour or anything of the kind that I say I must stay here. I just cannot do anything else, believe me please please. ..If by any chance I could stay with you , Oh God , I should. Well in a way I loathe Paris, now, I felt just chilly and blank being here.
Mon 19 july '48
If I could give up my life with sartre i would be a dirty creature a treacherous and selfish woman... it is not by lack of love that I don't stay with you...Sartre needs me. In fact, he is very lonely , very tormented inside himself and I am his only true friend, I could not desert him...it is not possible to love more than I love you, flesh and heart and soul..but Sartre needs me.
Sun 8 Aug 1948
...(Sartre) he was my first lover, nobody had even kissed me before...but it was rather a deep friendship than love; love was not very successful. Chiefly because he does not care much for sexual life. He is warm lively man everywhere but not in bed. I soon felt it .. and little by little it seemed useless and even indecent to go on being lovers. we dropped it after about eight or ten years rather unsuccessful in this way...I did not expect love. I did not believe in being in love and you made me fall in love with you! and come back to chicago and love you more and more... I guess there will never be another man.
razmazilo nas doba interneta....sad se samo mailovi salju 
