My River runs to thee—

My River runs to thee—

Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me?

My River waits reply—

Oh Sea—look graciously—

I'll fetch thee Brooks

From spotted nooks—

Say—Sea—Take Me!

—Emily Dickinson

Simone de Beauvoir: The Making of an Intellectual Woman

Having read some of de Beauvoir's fiction and memoirs, I had a few questions about her life, and this biography, by Toril Moi, was the best that I could find. There is also a biography by Deirdre Bair that reveals many new facts about de Beauvoir, but I decided to skip it, because some readers find Bair a little presumptuous. I also had trepidations about Moi's book, because it is primarily about de Beauvoir's ideas as a feminist, and I thought that she might write in the manner of Elizabeth Povinelli, who sounds absurd to me. Both are academics, but Moi is a little older. On the whole, I liked Moi's book, though it focuses more on ideas than biographical facts, because it does answer the questions I had and provides a clearer picture of de Beauvoir than she did about herself.

One of the areas that I was interested in was the role, if any, of existentialism in de Beauvoir's life. I had thought for a long time that existentialism could be a lot of bunk, and I now think that it is. Having read quite a bit on human evolution, the emerging theory is now that all organisms, including humans, are subject to biological determinism over which they have no control. This makes Jean-Paul Sartre's central idea, that we are "condemned to be free," a falsehood, and I think collapses his entire model. Robert Sapolsky even makes fun of Sartre in Determined. I don't think that existentialism played much of a role in de Beauvoir's life. She paid lip service to it for Sartre's benefit, but it doesn't conspicuously appear in her works. She is best known for The Second Sex, which is primarily a takedown of the patriarchy, and when it was published in 1949 it influenced some of the American women who led the feminist movement in the U.S. in the 1960's and 1970's, such as Betty Friedan and Kate Millett.

I think that in her memoirs and more so in The Mandarins de Beauvoir provided a distorted picture of her life and omitted some of the key factors that influenced her. She was the eldest of two daughters, and was initially very close to her father, who was a conservative, patriarchal bourgeoisie. After her sister, Hélène, was born, her father lost interest in her. Hélène was prettier than Simone and fit her father's model better. He had no interest in an intellectual daughter, and Hélène matched his bourgeois preferences by growing up to become an artist. In Simone's case, until she completed her education and moved out, her parents imposed strict rules on her, and she may have developed an abandonment complex, though she never says this herself. A case could be made that when Sartre became de Beauvoir's ideal partner, he accommodated her because she was his first intellectual fan, and he planned to have a major intellectual career. However, he hedged his bets by setting up the relationship such that they would not marry or live together, and this paved the way for many affairs. In fact, they stopped having sex early in the relationship. But he did live up to their initial agreement, and they continued to confide in each other.

As I said earlier, I don't think that Sartre was of much significance as an intellectual, and Tony Judt, the historian, thought that he missed the boat on Stalin's abuse of power. Angela Carter, the writer, wrote "Why is a nice girl like Simone wasting her time sucking up to a boring old fart like J.-P.?" It was de Beauvoir's minimization of Sartre's sexual escapades that first drew my attention to her omissions. One of the earliest ones was with Olga Kosakiewicz, who was a student of de Beauvoir when she was seventeen and had an affair with Sartre when she was twenty. Olga's younger sister, Wanda, also had an affair with him. Olga later said that she felt psychologically damaged by Sartre. Sartre's behavior toward women sounds as if it perfectly fit de Beauvoir's definition of patriarchal abuse. In many respects, de Beauvoir seems to have adjusted her lifestyle in order to match Sartre's. While she claimed to dislike lesbian sex, she engaged in it often for several years and passed on her lovers to Sartre. Occasionally it almost seems as if they maintained some sort of rivalry in their sex lives. In 1945, Sartre began an affair with Dolorès Vanetti, whom he met while traveling alone in the U.S. In 1947, de Beauvoir also went on a solo trip to the U.S. and immediately started an affair with Nelson Algren. This sort of behavior seemed to become a tit for tat pattern in which they both behaved badly but made a private joke of it later.

One of the main things that I noticed from reading de Beauvoir is that she rarely criticizes male behavior but freely offers slightly condescending advice to unhappy women. In The Mandarins, Anne, the de Beauvoir character, pities Paula, who cracks up when Henri, the Camus character, abruptly dumps her, but she isn't at all sympathetic and presumably thinks that Paula should just grow up. In The Woman Destroyed, Monique also has a breakdown when her husband, Maurice, has an affair, and de Beauvoir once again shows little sympathy. Another thing about her fiction that I dislike is that she portrays young adults within a rigid ideological framework that seems unrealistic to me. Nadine in The Mandarins is portrayed as far more sophisticated for her age than seems possible, and so is Lucienne in The Woman Destroyed. In The Age of Discretion, I think that de Beauvoir is too heavy-handed with Phillipe, since he violates Sartre's dogmatic preference for the intellectual life. In these three instances, I think that she missed a lot by never having children and probably didn't understand them well. To me it seems that she may have been unconsciously inserting Sartre's self-serving ideas into her fiction, perhaps as a rationale for her own behavior.

Near the end of the book, Toril Moi does a good job discussing de Beauvoir's psychological weaknesses. This is generally concealed in the de Beauvoir works that I've read. From reading them, you would never know that she had anxiety attacks and suffered from depression, along with the abandonment fears that I mentioned above. In reality, she was nothing like the Anne character in The Mandarins. Moi writes:

For me, the most striking aspect of Beauvoir's choices is the fact that she consistently refused to examine her own emotional strategies with anything like the discernment she mobilized to analyze those of other women. What would have happened to Simone de Beauvoir had she taken psychoanalysis seriously from the start? But this, clearly, is an anachronistic question. Beauvoir was born into a pre-analytical age: in France in the 1920s, 1930s and 1940s there was little incentive for her or any other intellectuals to consider psychoanalysis as a major influence on their thought or personal lives.

I would say that de Beauvoir's emotional investment in Sartre was a very bad idea, but that she can't be blamed for that, given her available resources at the time. 

Diary

I've decided to continue reading a biography of Simone de Beauvoir that I recently started, even though I don't think that it will provide a full picture of her. The problem with de Beauvoir is that she wrote mountains of memoirs while conveniently omitting a lot of important information. I think that some of that has come out since she died, but there does not appear to be a high-quality biography that covers all aspects of her life. That could easily be one-thousand pages long, and the one I'm reading is less than three-hundred, excluding the notes. De Beauvoir is currently on my second tier of imaginary friends, because I don't consider her completely honest. I may also place Carson McCullers in the second tier, because she was a lot of fun, but she loses points for not being intellectual enough. I like some poets so much that Emily Dickinson or Denise Levertov might also become second-tier imaginary friends. My only current first-tier imaginary friend is still George Eliot, and I've read so much about her already that I may know her better than her own family did.  

I've been thinking about my criteria for imaginary friends, and will write a little about that today. First I should discuss why I have imaginary friends. In my case, these friends represent a thinking or style with which I can identify. Rather than imagining them as invisible people in the room with me, they are more like figureheads for some of the things that interest me. You may wonder why none of my imaginary friends are male. That is because there is much that I dislike about male behavior: competitiveness, grandiosity and superficiality. These traits can also be found in women, but they are usually less conspicuous. It may simply be that men are generally more stunted emotionally than women. I think that George Eliot, as a novelist, was occasionally able to convey her nuanced reaction to life better than anyone else, including Gustave Flaubert. Similarly, in my opinion, Emily Dickinson and Denise Levertov may occupy a rarefied class of poets.

Although I've never had completely successful relationships with women, I barely had any successful relationships with men. My male friendships have tended to be superficial and transient. It may be relevant that I'm not gay, but I always notice crudity in men that isn't as readily apparent in women, though there are some masculine women around. When I read fiction or poetry, I am likely to tune out male writers faster than female writers, but most of the females eventually get screened out too. There are good male writers of fiction, poetry and nonfiction, but I usually detect an element of vocational expediency that reduces their interest to me. The writers I like don't have gimmicks. 

In other news, as you might expect, I am still having difficulty finding good films. I just watched "North by Northwest," a classic Alfred Hitchcock film. I enjoyed it and thought that it was well-made, but it's not my favorite Hitchcock film. I like Eva Marie Saint, and apparently Hitchcock personally coached her for her role. I thought that she did an excellent job portraying a complex woman – something that you rarely see in films these days. She also appeared in "On the Waterfront." I was amazed to learn that someone who worked with Alfred Hitchcock, Marlon Brando and Cary Grant is still alive. She is one-hundred years old!

The snow has all melted here, and I'm watching the birds at the feeder. A few minutes ago there was a Carolina wren, which I hadn't seen before. There is more activity at the feeder now than there was at this time last year because of the snow. The goldfinch count is still very low.

In the Trump department, I am getting used to his return, and, though there are still ominous elements, as a practical matter, I don't think that he will have much effect on me, so I don't waste time on him. The main way that he could actually have an adverse effect on me personally would be to cause an economic collapse, with a stock market crash. At present, much of my discretionary income comes from investments, and another stock market crash would adversely affect me financially. However, whatever he says, he is actually in the pockets of Wall Street and the billionaire's club, and he heeds their directives like a crybaby – so I'm not losing sleep over that at the moment.

The Origin of Language

I did end up reading From Signal to Symbol: The Evolution of Language, by Ronald J. Planer and Kim Sterelny, but overall found it too academic to be enlightening. After over 200 pages, they conclude:

For us, then, the honesty and uniqueness questions become: Why did hominins evolve such cooperation-dependent lifeways? Why did only hominins develop such cooperation-dependent lifeways? Why (perhaps) did only sapiens develop the complex forms of cooperation that required the resources of full language? We have not answered these questions in this book, though we have said a little about the third. Rather, we have embedded our account of the evolution of language within the framework of a broader picture of the evolution of hominin cooperation. We have elaborated and defended that framework, but not here, as it requires book-length treatment in its own right (Sterelny 2012a; Sterelny 2021). If that account of the emergence and changing character of hominin cooperation is seriously wrong, this account of language falls with it. If, on the other hand, it is broadly correct, it answers the honesty and uniqueness questions.

Putting all this together then: we do not claim to have provided even a close approximation of a proper lineage explanation, taking us from an independently supported baseline identifying the communicative skills of the earliest hominins to language-equipped modern humans. But we do claim to have outlined, and in places done a little more than outline, an expandable lexicon, displaced reference, the core cognitive capacities on which syntax depends, the gesture-speech transition (assuming there was one), and the expanded functionality of language.

As you can see, these authors are not exactly bold in their assertions. I am primarily interested in the main process of language acquisition and how it led to what Ian Tattersall calls symbolic reasoning, i.e., intelligence. For this reason, I read another Tattersall essay, "Language Origins: An Evolutionary Framework." This contains the same ideas as "Brain Size and the Emergence of Modern Human Cognition," which I discussed earlier. Homo sapiens came into existence 200,000-300,000 years ago and began to move out of Africa 70,000-100,000 years ago. Tattersall relies on human-made items to judge cognitive ability, and he thinks that although humans may have been relatively modern in a neurological sense 200,000 years ago, modern human cognition did not develop until about 100,000 years ago:

In the period between around 100 and 70 thousand years ago we begin to find, at sites in the eastern Mediterranean and northern and southern Africa, evidence that hominids – almost certainly Homo sapiens – were piercing, stringing, and sometimes ochre-staining small gastropod shells, presumably for use in body ornamentation (Henshilwood et al. 2002, 2004; Vanhaeren et al. 2006; Bouzougger et al. 2010). In all documented modern human societies such ornamentation is redolent with implications of status, occupation, group membership, and so forth; and it is widely accepted as a robust proxy for self-identification and symbolic cognitive processes on the part of humans who decorated themselves....

Tattersall concludes:

Our cognitive and linguistic skills are, of course, built on a foundation of hundreds of millions of years of vertebrate brain evolution; and nothing would be the same today if even one of the innovations that accumulated over that long period had not been acquired. But there is something emergently different about us: something that was not fine-tuned by natural selection over a vast period of time, and that in consequence makes our behavioral repertoire infinitely flexible – just like language itself.

I am reminded of Improbable Destinies, by Jonathan B. Losos, which I discussed in 2018. In his experiments with lizards in the Bahamas, he found that evolutionary changes could occur in just one generation if long-legged ground lizards were pressured to live in the vegetation above due to the introduction of larger, predatory lizards at ground level. Because long legs were disadvantageous above ground level, the lizards immediately evolved shorter legs. Losos doesn't discuss the mechanism for the reduction in leg length – I would think that this would be too brief a period for a genetic change. It seems more likely that the genotype allowed flexible outcomes in the phenotype for situations like this. A similar process may have occurred among humans. It seems plausible that Homo sapiens built up various cognitive skills through the use of language by living in cooperative groups for thousands of years. The advanced cognition of modern humans may have been precipitated by adverse environmental conditions during the late Pleistocene period. It seems unlikely that the extinction of all of the other Homo species alive at that time could have been a coincidence.

I should also add that the emergence of biological phenomena, including neural development, as discussed by Robert Sapolsky, adds a new dimension to how we now think about evolution.

Diary

All of a sudden, we seem to be having a normal winter again. This is probably because there is currently a La Niña effect, making the temperatures cooler here. They say it may not last, though. There has been snow on the ground since Thanksgiving, and I've put up the birdfeeders. This year, the birds came almost immediately. The chickadees always come first, and they were followed by tufted titmice and nuthatches. There are usually juncos in the yard, and they joined in. After a few days, the hairy and downy woodpeckers found the suet. The goldfinches always form the largest group, but they build up slowly, because they prefer to come in flocks; I've only seen a couple of them so far. All of the squirrels are coming over and having a try and failing at the sunflower kernel feeder; they eventually give up. So now I have something to look at outside while I'm sitting at my computer. The squirrels can be a little annoying at first, because they crawl all over the outside of the house. Also, some of the woodpeckers tap on the house occasionally. They don't seem to do any serious damage, but I check to make sure that they don't create any large holes. One nice thing about log cabins is that the siding is durable and low-maintenance. I spent many hours painting clapboard in Middlebury, and it also rots. I don't seem to have a carpenter ant problem, and there are no termites here. 

This is the beginning of cabin fever season, and I'm attempting to read more now, since I don't spend as much time outdoors. I've been dabbling in a couple of biographies but so far haven't become excited enough to finish one. I've also started on a scientific book that attempts to explain the evolution of human language from the time of our earliest ancestors to the present. This is right up my alley, and I will definitely finish it. I agree with Ian Tattersall and think that human language is what distinguishes us from other primates and is the source of our particular cognition. This is an extremely difficult subject, because you can't go back in time to see exactly how it developed, and there aren't many cultural or physical clues. Nevertheless, it would be nice to know, because that is what makes us distinctively human. Ironically, I don't think that this type of research will end up making us feel better about ourselves: we'll just find out that through ordinary biological processes, mutations and the right mix of environmental conditions we came into existence; God didn't roll out the red carpet for us, and we don't even know why the universe exists.

Speaking of red carpets, I just watched "The Silence of the Lambs" again and can see why it won so many awards. Although the plot has lots of holes in it, the acting by Anthony Hopkins, Jodie Foster, and even Ted Levine (Buffalo Bill), is quite good. The problem is that the film is based on a popular suspense novel and I don't think that anyone exactly like Hannibal Lecter or Buffalo Bill ever existed, though there have been serial killers with some of their characteristics. One scene is borrowed from the actual Ted Bundy. I also didn't like the fact that the FBI and police are depicted as inept throughout the film. On a side note, there are internet discussions about whether the film is anti-transgender, since Buffalo Bill behaves in a transgender manner. Anyway, I found the film entertaining, but wouldn't call it art. Without the acting, I don't think that it would have been as impressive.

Like many people, I am attempting to follow the news without paying much attention to Donald Trump. It is somewhat of a consolation to think of Trump as a complete idiot and recognize that as harebrained as his ideas are he can't have much effect on world history. You have to consider that he was named one of the worst presidents ever by political experts after his first term, and he hasn't changed at all. He isn't in the least bit creative, and right now the only thing he's doing is coming up with new versions of his old bad ideas that didn't work. Because of his ego, he never admits mistakes, so he tends to repeat them. You can see his little mind working and look ahead to his future certification as the worst president in American history. So far, many of the Republicans in Congress are still supporting him, but I think that their loyalty is wearing thin. He may be just a couple of blunders away from being impeached again. If he damages the economy at all, he won't have anything to hang his hat on.