FICTION: AGE OF ENLIGHTENMENT
The Inseparables
By Simone de Beauvoir
Translated by Lauren Elkin
Penguin Random House
ISBN: 9781784878467
144pp.
“Be loved, be admired, be necessary; be somebody,” Simone de Beauvoir asserted in Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter, a book I was compelled to read during my university days.
She meant to live with a purpose, be driven by a higher meaning, to do what brings you pleasure… and so, my writing journey, that went through a dry spell for a short time, took off again.
Her iconic representation of a Frenchwoman dressed in a 1940s-style suit, seated next to Jean-Paul Sartre in either the Cafe de Flore or La Coupole, writing tirelessly, evolved into a symbol itself.
The famous line of Book 2 from The Second Sex, de Beauvoir’s two-volume feminist classic published in 1949 — when Frenchwomen’s right to vote was scarcely five years old — which declare, “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman,” carried with it a profound message of freedom.
Simone de Beauvoir’s ‘lost’ near-autobiographical story of an enduring friendship that profoundly shaped her own perspectives on liberty and human desire is presented in a sterling English translation for the first time
The idea that individuals could actively mould their own futures in response to the challenges they faced, radically resonated with me. I yearned not only for political, social and emotional liberation, as one didn’t simply read de Beauvoir as a reader, but aspired to emulate her, to partake in her remarkable life and intellectual journey.
Having studied de Beauvoir as part of my higher education curriculum, I was well aware of the deep connection she shared with Elisabeth Lacoin, fondly known as Zaza, dating back to their nine-year-old selves. It lingered in her thoughts, within the pages of her literary works, and within the realm of her dreams.
The Inseparables is a novel that revisits this enduring friendship that profoundly shaped de Beauvoir’s perspectives on liberty and human desire. It is said that the manuscript was shown to Sartre for review but he considered it “having no inner necessity and [failing] to hold the reader’s interest.” The novel was never published in de Beauvoir’s lifetime.
In Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter, de Beauvoir reminisces how she envisioned her closest friend, Elisabeth ‘Zaza’ Lacoin, passing away and her schoolteacher proclaiming that Zaza had been summoned by God. So, de Beauvoir reflected, “Well … I should die on the spot. I would slide off my seat and fall lifeless to the ground.”
In The Inseparables, she relays a similar sensation. The character of Andrée stands in for Zaza here and de Beauvoir is Sylvie.
Sylvie’s strong emotions for Andrée marked the inception of her political enlightenment. During their school years, women were denied the right to vote, pressured into marriage, and socially conditioned to embrace a role primarily centred on tending to their future spouses and offspring.
This stellar translation from French by Lauren Elkin masterfully captures Andrée’s bold demeanour. Through pared-down language, it effectively conveys Andrée’s captivating personality and showcases how Sylvie is spellbound by her conviction and confidence, her frolicking cartwheels, and her talent in diverse domains, including literature, playing the violin, horseback riding and mimicry.
In stark contrast, Sylvie is grappling with boredom and a sense of intellectual isolation. Upon encountering this clever girl, she experiences a transformative shift in her life. Their bond deepens as the girls engage in lengthy discussions on topics like equality, property, justice, war and religion.
The extensive dialogues were nothing short of a revolution, particularly in an era when women were advised to keep their thoughts private. During this process, they begin to question the authority of their teachers, gradually creating a separate world of their own.
“They teach you in catechism to respect your body. So, selling your body in marriage must be as bad as selling it on the street,” says Andrée. And the reader cannot help but feel that.
Sylvie’s affection for Andrée is primarily rooted in the latter’s intellect. Of course, Andrée’s charm and vivacity also render her physically appealing. However, this form of cerebral affection challenges societal norms, given that de Beauvoir was born in 1908, when the worth of women was not typically associated with their intellectual capabilities.
“I suddenly understood, in a joyful stupor, that the empty feeling in my heart, the mournful quality of my days, had but one cause: Andrée’s absence. Life without her would be death.”
Exploring de Beauvoir’s life inevitably prompts contemplation of one’s own experiences. For instance, at the age of 14, during a confession with the school priest, Sylvie becomes aware that her connection with God is undergoing a transformation. She reflects, “I don’t believe in God! I said to myself… The truth of it stunned me for a moment: I didn’t believe in God.”
The priest detects this altered disposition and reprimands her for it. “I have been told that my little Sylvie is not the same girl she was. It seems she has become distracted, disobedient and insolent.”
What follows is not an apology, not remorse. Instead, Sylvie is fiery and rebellious, the effect of which she attributes to Andrée.
In Hans Christian Andersen’s fairytale ‘The Red Shoes’, the female lead dons a cherished pair of red shoes to attend church, despite being told it’s inappropriate. Unable to resist their allure, she falls victim to a magical curse that prevents her from removing the red shoes and condemns her to dance ceaselessly in them. In her desperation, she seeks out an executioner and requests that he amputate her feet. He complies, but even after her feet are severed, they continue to dance.
Did Andrée fall victim to her own cerebral freedom? Was she an agent of her own separation? Should she have employed the figurative axe to break free from her mother who held her back in every way? Instead, she directs it towards herself.
This moment serves as a foreshadowing of what de Beauvoir perceived as society’s ultimate condemnation of Andrée Gallard. If she had always harboured a hidden belief that “Andrée was one of those prodigies about whom, later on, books would be written”, her intuition proved accurate.
In an era when the Taliban is coercing Afghan women to return to their homes, one can’t help but ponder how many Andrées/Zazas are around us, their lives thwarted or extinguished by systematic misogyny. Who will narrate their stories and breathe life into their experiences for us?
The reviewer is a content lead at an agency. She can be reached at sara.amj@hotmail.co.uk
Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, November 5th, 2023