Musings

I am pacing in my mind today, yet I do nothing but take a nap. There, my dreams bring my escape from mundane life.

I took the plunge and opened up de Beauvior this evening. The Second Sex was on my shelf for a few years now, but it was one of those books that gathered dust, merely looking important. In the end, I figured its status in my collection isn't worth much until I know what's inside it.

Simone de Beauvior wrote her book from the impulse to discover herself, but created a work that transcends mere autobiography. However, it remains a much more individual account of femininity than the universal one she hoped to write. I can't help but marvel and pity her emotional distance to her subject. She is cold, and seems to be quite disassociated from her own experience of womanhood and femininity. I will read to to discover something more about myself.