⋆⋆⋆⋆½
Thank you to NetGalley and Ecco for allowing me to read this ARC!
Content Warning: misogyny, death, parental abuse (emotional and verbal).
The novel starts in a classroom: Sylvie, a dedicated and studious pupil, is surprised when another little girl she's never met before takes the seat beside her. This is Andrée, one of the daughters of a large, well-respected family, who immediately captures Sylvie's attention with her sparkling and irreverent personality. It's this relationship that will change the course of Sylvie's life forever, and in this simple exchange between the two girls, we see already the blossoming of feelings deeper than friendship on Sylvie's part.
The prose is beautiful, both moving and full of simplistic descriptions that insert you directly into the scenes, and the interactions between the two women are fraught with love and tension that extends deeply beneath the surface. Although Andrée's emotions towards her companion are not quite so intense, it doesn't take away at all from the sweet, tender -- and often selfless -- love that Sylvie develops and nurtures for her friend. De Beauvoir also perfectly renders that sensation we sometimes have with our friends, lovers and those we cherish: do I truly understand you? And what does it mean to be understood by someone, in every sense of the word?
I must also mention the deep and profound discussion that takes place regarding religion, both in Sylvie's own inner monologues and in dialogue between the characters. As someone who was raised in the Christian faith (but nowhere near as intensely as Andrée or even Sylvie) many of the questions posed here resonated with me. Can we fathom God's will? Does God want us to be obedient in all ways and in everything, including in ways that smother or harm our spirit? Sylvie (and by extension, Simone herself) loses faith early on; Andrée remains a devoutly, fervently religious Catholic; but in spite of these differences, it makes no difference to their friendship, which is full of the kind of pure love that cannot be destroyed even by such a divide.
It's the constraints and pressures of a life of perfect goodness, as well as the expectation of perfect womanhood, that ultimately leads to the tragedies that later befall Andrée and Sylvie. Andrée's mother, who she adores completely, is oftentimes the enemy who cuts her down and tries to force her into a mold that has previously destroyed her own life. There we see again the cycle of motherhood and the sharing and passing down of their trauma and grief onto their daughters, a cycle that still to this day continues to ensnare women. It's hard to fully discuss and relate in a review all the feelings and philosophies at play here. Only by reading this work can you feel and understand its profoundness.
Now, before I go onto recommend this book, I feel there's one more thing I must address. As someone who is aware of de Beauvoir's morally and ethically repugnant relationships with young women in her later life, I can't review this without making mention of it. These women (many whom were underage, and were pupils she taught at school) were exploited and taken advantage of both by de Beauvoir, and by her partner, Sartre, who she often introduced them to.
While this work personally was something I found moving, beautiful, and complex, I must say that my rating is based only on that fact. While de Beauvoir's prolific work changed the face and understanding of feminism and women's rights forever, I would be especially remiss not to bring it up while reviewing a book that deals directly with those topics as well as with her sexuality and relationships with women. I think it would have been more honest and forthcoming if these things had been mentioned in Atwood's foreword or in de Beauvoir's daughter's afterword. Going forward, we must acknowledge these things that de Beauvoir did, if only so that we may do justice to the young women (and girls) who became her victims.
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