Death of Anais Nin, 14 January 1977

Dear Anais,

Your diary inspired me, but your biography appalled me:
A husband on each coast of the United States, a chain of lovers
twined round the globe, seducing and seduced by
your own father. An abortion which you retold as a birth,
never naming which of your men might be the father.
Lover of your father, mother of your brother, you died
this day of a poisoned womb, your body an inhospitable
home for your ardent, airy spirit and your nereid soul.
Still, frail, fallible, and deceptive woman, mermaid,
mirage, deceiver or deluded, you wrote my truth
in your official fiction, “the Diary”, and for that, Anais,
I must love and honor you as my foremother.


Published by


Writer, musician, polytheist, and friend of birds. I like science fiction, fantasy, and superheroes a lot.

2 thoughts on “Death of Anais Nin, 14 January 1977”

  1. Nin inspired me greatly in my youth. The Diary and The House of Incest were astounding revelations. (I don’t trust the biographers, either; the one whose book I looked through seemed to only want to destroy.)

    I will honor this sancta of the EK today.


    1. I discovered Nin in my early twenties and loved her passionately for a long time. I liked the Deidre Bair biography–massive, exhaustive, but pretty non-judgmental. It’s the paradox of creativity that what she wrote in her published Diary was truer than the actual facts of her life.


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