21/08/2024
Elizabeth Boleman-Herring: In the last century, Andy Warhol said that the era had finally arrived when, thanks to our ravenous and restless communications media, everyone would be “famous” for 15 minutes. In our post-post-Warholian world, that window has, perhaps, telescoped (for most) to the length and breadth of a tweet.
With the publication of Volume VII of Anaïs Nin’s Diary, I came into my own 15 minutes. Anaïs (pronounced Anna-eés, if you please), with her customary generosity, had pulled me, and the title of my still unpublished novel, The Furrawn, into the limelight. And she did so three years after her death of cancer in January, 1977.
Friends and former university classmates and colleagues phoned and wrote to me from—all over the world. “Good grief, Bebe,” said one: “You’ve got almost as many references in the index as Henry Miller.”
Another friend, who knew about Nin’s and my difficulties, said, “It was her way of saying how sorry she was.”
Read Boleman-Herring's essay, "Anais & The Furrawn," on "Hubris," here: https://weeklyhubris.com/anais-nin-the-furrawn/