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.