Have you ever heard of Anais Nin? She was a French-Cuban writer of erotic literature, muse to Henry Miller, bigamist and ultimately, a feminist icon. I saw a documentary about her when I was in my early 20s and became fascinated by her story.

I thought of her again a couple of weeks back, when Tom wrote this blog about how Hollywood movies portrayed women who have affairs. Tom was annoyed at the double standard that seems to prevail in films these days: if a man cheats, he’s a scumbag. If a woman cheats, she’s strong and empowered.

First of all, let me state for the record that I can see why this annoys Tom, but it got me thinking about how our culture perceives female infidelity. And that got me thinking about Anais Nin. See, Nin was kind of the Poster Girl for female infidelity. Her published journals revealed the intimate details of her affair with Henry Miller (writer of Tropic of Cancer, a perennial resident on the “banned books” list for its racy content) while she was married to businessman Hugh Parker Guiler.

Nin’s  marriage weathered the coming and going (and oh, was there coming) of Henry Miller, plus the seduction of not one but TWO of her psychotherapists and dalliances with other leading literary figures such as Gore Vidal. But what really distinguished Nin’s record was when she took up with an actor whom she met in an elevator and eventually married… while still married to Guiler!  For years, she kept two residences (one in LA with the actor and one in New York City with her long-suffering husband), had two last names and spun a web of deceit so confusing that she needed to keep track of her lies with notes.

With all that said, what really interests me is that Nin was adopted as a feminist icon in the ’60s. Tom’s blog got me thinking about that. What made Nin so appealing to feminists? Why was I utterly fascinated by her story when I first learned about her? Is this the same thing that’s driving the current Hollywood portrayal of unfaithful women as, somehow, admirable?

I think it might be. Nin became a role model in the 1960s when women were coming out of a period where they lacked the financial and social power of their male counterparts. Nin’s actions might not seem very moral but they do seem powerful, especially for the time. It’s her total disregard for all of the virtues women are classically supposed to embody: goodness, purity, submissiveness, modesty, selflessness. It’s the unabashed pursuit of her own pleasure, I think, that women find strangely, shockingly admirable. I find myself torn between wanting to say “You go, Anais, with your bad, bohemian self” and “Wow, Anais, you’re a totally selfish slut and your husband shoulda’ kicked you to the curb.” (I’m sort of channeling how Anais might have fared with the audience on Maury Povich).

As it turns out, Anais Nin was in many ways a lost and unhappy woman. Most of her sexual obsessions and intimacy issues stemmed from a tormented relationship with her Father, who molested her when she was a girl and abandoned her family. She sought validation in the arms of so many men because she lacked it in girlhood.

Beyond that, and I guess this is the point I’m building up to but afraid that readers will find offensive, is that I like the idea that our culture can mythologize a flawed female. As far as women have come in terms of equality, you still go to the movies and see men racing around having lots of adventures, lots of sex, going for what they want without regret. And women? There are exceptions but we still mostly see them as the supportive girlfriend, the loving wife, the doting daughter, the damsel in distress. I’m grateful that Nin represents an alternative and I love that she, through her actions and her honesty, opened a dialogue about women’s complex sexual and emotional needs.

As much as I understand Tom finding it offensive that Hollywood seems to be telling women that it’s ok to leave their husbands if the guy in question lets himself go, part of me is glad that we’re moving away from a society that made women feel they stuck with their marriage no matter what. How many women have felt powerless to choose their own paths? Of the many who did, Anais Nin was certainly not one of them.

Are you familiar with Anais Nin’s story? Do you think she deserves to be a feminist icon? What do you think about how women’s infidelity is portrayed? If you want to learn more about Anais Nin, there have been multiple biographies published on her, many of her books and journals are still in print and you could also check out the film “Henry and June” which fictionalized her complex relationship with Henry Miller and his wife.