Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 355 pp., $14.95
Art teaches us how to levitate, Anaïs Nin was fond of saying, and in Volume Seven of Nin's Diary her toes seldom touch earth. It isn't art that's keeping her aloft, however, it's fame, favorable reviews, rapt adoration. Volume Seven covers the final years of Nin's life, as she emerges from the whispering shadows of cultdom to glide from lectern to lectern in her new role as the counter-culture's Lady Oracle. (Nin died in 1977, after a long bout with cancer.) In the closing pages of Volume Six, Nin celebrates the cloudburst of approval which greets the publication of the Diary's first volume in the spring of 1966. Lawrence Ferlinghetti showers her with rose petals in a Berkeley bookshop, love letters crowd her mailbox, and reviewer Robert Kirsch swoons at length about her 'poetic and supple' prose in The Los Angeles Times. As Volume Seven opens, Nin is still soaking happily in the ironies of success: 'The same publishers who turned down my work beg for my comments on new works they are publishing,' she notes with rueful pride. Even media personalities lower their knees in homage. 'Television interview with Arlene Francis very deep. She knew my work. She is enormously intelligent and wise.' Once you've tasted the wisdom of Arlene Francis, lesser fizz won't do.
Review, 1691 words
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