Tete-a-Tete (58 page)

Said, Edward. “My Encounter with Sartre.”
London Review of Books,
June 1, 2000.

Saint-Bris, Gonzague, and Vladimir Fedorovski. In
Les Egéries russes
(Paris: Jean-Claude Lattès, 1994).

Siegel, Liliane.
In the Shadow of Sartre
(Paris, 1988; Glasgow: William Collins, 1990).

Simons, Margaret A. “Lesbian Connections: Simone de Beauvoir and

Feminism.”
Signs,
18, no. 1 (Autumn 1992).

———.
Beauvoir and the Second Sex: Feminism, Race, and the Origins of Existentialism
(Oxford and Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield, 1999).

Todd, Olivier.
Un Fils rebelle
(Paris: Grasset, 1981).

Weatherby, W. J. “The Life and Hard Times of Nelson Algren.”
Sunday Times
(London), May 17, 1981.

Bérard-Zarzycka, Ewa. “Sartre et Beauvoir en U.R.S.S.”
Commentaire
14, no. 53 (spring 1991).

A major source for this book has been Sartre's and Beauvoir's correspondence, published and unpublished. Sartre's letters to Beauvoir (and to some other girlfriends) were compiled by Beauvoir, after Sartre's death. The two-volume
Lettres au Castor et à quelques autres
appeared in French in 1983. In order not to embarrass third parties, Beauvoir left out certain passages and changed some names. However, she deposited the original letters in the Bibliothèque Nationale, where they can be consulted on microfilm in the manuscript room of the old Rue de Richelieu library.

After Beauvoir's death, Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir embarked on the daunting task of deciphering Beauvoir's handwriting for future publications. In 1990, she published Beauvoir's letters to Sartre, with no omissions or changes whatsoever. Beauvoir's letters to Nelson Algren, written in English, appeared in 1997. (Algren's literary agent, Candida Donadio, who owned Algren's copyright after Algren's death, would not allow Le Bon to publish Algren's side of the correspondence.)
Correspondance croisée,
the early correspondence between Beauvoir and Jacques-Laurent Bost, appeared in 2004.

As for unpublished sources, Beauvoir's early journals are in the Bibliothèque Nationale. These cover the years 1926–1930, and include interesting entries about her courtship by Maheu and Sartre. And Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir has donated dozens of boxes of correspondence (letters
to
Beauvoir) to the Bibliothèque Nationale.

Le Bon de Beauvoir has retained Beauvoir's most intimate correspondence and journals in her personal archives, and she let me see
important material that no scholar had seen before: letters to Beauvoir from Nelson Algren, Olga Kosakiewicz, Nathalie Sorokine, Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Ivan Moffat, and Claude Lanzmann; letters from Beauvoir to Olga, from Bost to Olga; some later letters from Bost to Beauvoir; and a journal extract Beauvoir wrote about the death of Jean-Pierre Bourla.

Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir says she has not begun to decipher the journal Beauvoir kept in 1958, or the one she kept from 1972 onward, on which she based
Adieux: A Farewell to Sartre.
According to Le Bon, these are so illegible as to be virtually written in code.

Beauvoir's letters to Claude Lanzmann are in Lanzmann's possession, and he tells me he has no plans to publish them. I interviewed him twice, but did not see the letters.

Sartre gave hundreds of interviews, and participated in the 1977 film documentary
Sartre,
but he was discreet about his personal life. That is to say, he was prepared to say things about himself, but did not like to talk about others. Apart from the journal he wrote during the war, he did not share Beauvoir's propensity to write autobiographical material.

Like Beauvoir, Sartre was a prolific letter writer. He said that he would be perfectly happy to see these letters published. However, not much of his correspondence has seen the light of day. The published collections of his letters to Beauvoir, which appeared in English under the titles
Witness to My Life: The Letters of Jean-Paul Sartre to Simone de Beauvoir, 1926–1939,
and
Quiet Moments in a War: The Letters of Jean-Paul Sartre to Simone de Beauvoir, 1940–1963,
also contain a handful of letters to Simone Jollivet, Olga Kosakiewicz, and Bianca Bienenfeld (to whom Beauvoir gave the pseudonym Louise Védrine). A selection of Sartre's letters to Wanda Kosakiewicz from Greece in 1937 was published in a special issue of
Les Temps modernes,
numbers 531–33, Oct.–Dec. 1990.

At this point, most of Sartre's correspondence remains in private hands. I wrote to Sartre's literary executrix, Arlette Elkaïm Sartre, several times, but she never replied. Other researchers have also encountered this wall of silence from her. This is most unfortunate, because not only is Arlette Elkaïm Sartre sitting on a large collection
of Sartre papers and correspondence, she also owns the copyright to all Sartre's unpublished writings.

I have been told that Dolores Vanetti Ehrenreich has kept her letters from Sartre, and if Arlette Elkaïm gives her consent, they might possibly be published in the future. Vanetti, who is frail, in her nineties, and living in New York, was gracious to me but would not agree to see me. Apart from a brief interview with Annie Cohen-Solal in the 1980s, Vanetti has systematically refused to talk about her relationship with Sartre.

In the end, I was able to read hundreds of letters that Sartre wrote to other girlfriends, but, sadly, I am not able to quote from them, except for the minimal “fair use” allowed by copyright law. Michelle Vian has kept the thick piles of letters Sartre wrote to her from 1949 onward, and briefly let me peruse them. The letters Sartre wrote to Wanda Kosakiewicz over the years are in Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir's possession. She let me read several dozen—those I asked to see, from periods I wanted to know more about.

My most precious insight into Sartre comes from the letters he wrote his Russian girlfriend, Lena Zonina, between 1962 and 1967. Lena's daughter, Masha Zonina, let me read the entire correspondence at my leisure—more than six hundred pages in Sartre's neat handwriting. In these letters, he writes a lot about the other women in his life.

The originals, in the Bibliothèque Nationale, have been placed under a forty-year embargo: no one has access to them. In the early 1980s, Lena Zonina wanted to publish these letters, but Arlette Elkaïm Sartre refused permission. After Lena's death, in February 1985, Masha Zonina, eager to keep the letters in France and knowing that her mother had wanted to make them public, sold the letters to the Bibliothèque Nationale. In light of the disparaging remarks they contain about his other women, including herself, Arlette Elkaïm Sartre has made them inaccessible to scholars for almost half a century.

The Beinecke Library at Yale is friendlier to the Sartre scholar. The Sartre collection includes thirty-one letters and postcards that Sartre wrote to Liliane Siegel and, more important, over two hundred hours of taped interviews that Sartre's biographer John Gerassi con
ducted between November 1970 and November 1973 with Sartre and members of his entourage, including Beauvoir, Olga and Wanda Kosakiewicz, Michelle Vian, Arlette Elkaïm Sartre, René Maheu, J.-B. Pontalis, André Gorz, Claude Lanzmann, and Jean Pouillon. It is wonderful to be able to hear these people's voices, and to attempt to decipher their hesitations, silences, and innuendoes. Interestingly, Olga, Wanda, and Arlette all give the impression that they did not feel able to say everything they wanted to say. Each one talked about Sartre with a degree of ambivalence. The fact is, Sartre was still alive; they did not want to be caught saying things behind his back to his biographer, and most of all, they were beholden to him.

In July 1985, Michel Rybalka taped more than twenty hours of interviews with Michelle Vian. His aim was primarily to find out more about the intellectual trajectories of Sartre and Boris Vian, but Michelle also made interesting comments about Sartre's character and her relationship with him. Rybalka let me listen to these interviews, which filled out and reinforced my own conversations with Michelle Vian.

At all times, I worked with the original French sources. Where they exist, I quote from the English translations, but if I did not find these accurate enough, I modified them, and indicated this in the endnotes. Otherwise, the translations from French are mine.

My primary thanks are to Simone de Beauvoir, who has inspired me, throughout my adult life, to stretch my horizons, to dare, and to live each drop of life to the fullest. I first read her when I was studying French at the University of Adelaide. Stimulated by Peter Hambly's impassioned lectures on Sartre, Beauvoir, and the notion of “committed literature,” I plunged into a doctoral thesis on existentialism. In November 1976, I had the privilege of interviewing Beauvoir. Looking back, although I did not begin it for another quarter of a century, this book had its origin at that time.

Tête-à-Tête
has been a pleasure to write, partly because my main sources have been stimulating to talk to and extremely generous with their help, while also being fun, warm, and encouraging—in the best Sartre/Beauvoir tradition. I owe most of all to Sylvie Le Bon, Beauvoir's literary executrix, who shared her knowledge, memories, and archival material with abundant goodwill, and gave me permission to quote from Beauvoir's unpublished writings. Moreover, to encourage me and celebrate my progress, she introduced me to some of her and Beauvoir's favorite Montparnasse restaurants. She never asked to read my manuscript, and in every way respected my liberty to write the book as I saw fit.

I am beholden to the well-known Sartre scholars Michel Rybalka and Michel Contat, who were encouraging and helpful from start to end. My heart will forever be warmed by Michel and Maya Rybalka's kind and generous hospitality at their home in the Basque country, while Michel let me work through his Sartre library, files, and taped
interviews. Michel Contat was full of helpful suggestions, references, and good stories, and liable to hand me a jazz CD on my way out of his apartment.

I am very grateful to Michelle Vian, who despite her physical fragility, gave up five afternoons for me, and answered my questions with honesty, thoughtfulness, and astoundingly youthful vitality. I am deeply indebted to Masha Zonina for her helpfulness, generosity, warmth, and admirable integrity. Liliane Siegel was encouraging and insightful.

I heartily thank all those people in France and the United States who granted me interviews: Barbara Aptekman, Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir, Lucia Cathala, Nadine Chauveau, Michel Contat, Gilbert Dagron, Marie-Chantal Dagron, Dominique Desanti, Boris Frezinsky, Robert Gallimard, John Gerassi, Geneviève Idt, Bianca Bienenfeld Lamblin, Claude Lanzmann, Jacques Lanzmann, Judith Magre, Jean Maheu, Robert Misrahi, Grégory Mouloudji, Patrick Nizan, Nikos Papatakis, J.-B. Pontalis, Serge Rezvani, Joshua Rubenstein, Michel Rybalka, Sally Swing Shelley, Liliane Siegel, Olivier Todd, Alexandre and Anahit Toptchian, Michelle Vian, Patrick Vian, Nicole Zand, and Masha Zonina.

I would like to thank Madame Mauricette Berne at the Bibliothèque Nationale; Stephen Jones at the Beinecke Library, Yale University; Elvira Griffith at Ohio State University; Madame Lili Phan, who manages the Gallimard archives; Laura Schmidt at the Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan; Pascale Charles-Lavauzelle at the Mairie in Uzerche, Limousin; and the helpful staff at the Archives de Marseille.

I am deeply grateful to Denise Shannon, my literary agent, whose enthusiasm and helpfulness have set me on my feet in all sorts of ways. I feel privileged to have Terry Karten as my editor at HarperCollins, whose knowledge, passionate interest, and encouragement have bolstered me all the way along. I also thank Danny Mulligan, Jenna Dolan, and Kyran Cassidy.

Others to whom I am beholden for their support, stimulation, friendship, and help are John Baxter, Eliane Benisti, Elaine Bernard, Brian Boyd, Lynn Buchanan, Patrick Cazals, Frédéric Chaubin, James Cohen, Kathy Coit, Margaret Collins Weitz, Sandrine Dauphin,
Linda Dittmar, Madhu Dubey, Gerald Early, Emory Elliott, Louise Fuller, Inez Hedges, Odile Hellier, Ann Timoney Jenkin, Rosemary Jones, Sonia Kruks, Béatrice Lévy, Rosemary and Paul Lloyd, Herbert Lottman, Hilary Masters, Alex Miller, Edward and Claire Margolies, Toril Moi, Richard Munday, Sabina Murray, Douglas and Deborah Paterson, Yolanda Patterson, Louis Phillips, Dorothy Porter, Karen Sharpe, Dan Simon, Margaret Simons, Kathleen Spivack, Richard and Pamela Stanley, Ursula Tidd, Irene Tomaszewski, Beverly Tucker, Karina Veal, David Walker, Victor Wallis, Constance Webb, Asa Zatz, Howard and Roslyn Zinn.

Christine Levecq was with me when I thought up the topic in Chicago; Christina Thompson came up with the title over lattes in Harvard Square. I bashed around ideas with Pam Painter, and turned to her at various points for advice; I don't know where I'd be without her sparkling mind and generous spirit. In Paris and the surrounding forests, I had stimulating discussions with Emily Blake and Dominique Ridou, both of whom read the manuscript carefully, and astounded me by their thoroughness. Dominique helped me in numerous ways, and greatly enriched my stay in France. Jeannette Ambrose made me feel almost instantly at home in Paris; what warmth and vitality! Lincoln Siliakus and Frank Campbell were invaluable advisors and editors. Julie Wark is always there for me, in Barcelona. In the late stages of this book, I got to know that “naughty man,” the Chicago photographer Art Shay, who seems to stop at nothing to help those he cares for. To these wonderful friends around the world, my deepest thanks.

My father was very ill in Australia during the writing of this book. It made the writing a particularly emotional experience. I was grateful to my mother for her strength and courage during this time. I relied heavily on my sister, Della, who is simply the best sister I could possibly imagine having. My brother, Martin, and my cousin Monica were marvelous—full of strength, and tenderness. Somehow, despite the great sadness, I felt blessed. Blessed to be in Paris, blessed by the many people who helped me in my research and writing, blessed to have a cozy study overlooking the Paris rooftops, and blessed by the loving support of friends and family. I feel a very lucky woman.