第 1 章
When Literary Giants Meet Their Match
Samuel Beckett greeted me with the startling words: "So you are the one who is going to reveal me for the charlatan that I am." It was November 17, 1971, and I had just entered the shabby Hotel du Danube in Paris to meet the literary giant for the first time. With his hawklike visage and tuft of white hair, Beckett cut an imposing figure as we sat awkwardly at a tiny table, our knees touching due to his impaired vision. Before departing, he made a remark that would prove prophetic: "I will neither help nor hinder you. My friends and family will assist you and my enemies will find you soon enough."
This remarkable encounter began Deirdre Bair's extraordinary journey as the biographer of two literary titans - Samuel Beckett and Simone de Beauvoir. Her memoir "Parisian Lives" chronicles the fascinating, challenging, and often bizarre experiences of navigating the complex personalities, cultural barriers, and academic politics that shaped her pioneering work. The book has become required reading in biography courses worldwide, with The New York Times praising it as "a fascinating look at the art of biography and the costs of recounting the lives of Samuel Beckett and Simone de Beauvoir." Bair's work broke new ground not just in literary biography but in establishing women's rightful place in a field traditionally dominated by men.
第 2 章
From Journalism to Literary Biography: The Accidental Biographer
Bair's journey to becoming Beckett's biographer began through an unlikely series of circumstances. After leaving newspaper journalism for graduate school in 1969, she sought respite from the exhausting balance of career and family life. As a working mother of two with a husband in graduate school, she was an anomaly in 1960s New Haven. Initially joining Columbia's School of Arts on a writing fellowship, she transferred to the Graduate School to study literature, falling in love with reading Joyce's Ulysses and modern poetry.
Despite warnings that scholarship committees would be reluctant to fund a thirty-year-old married woman with children, Bair discovered the Danforth Graduate Fellowships for Women, a program designed to increase female representation in academia. This program proved transformative, supporting "mature women" who could gain admission to graduate programs and complete advanced degrees quickly.
While initially focusing on medieval studies, Bair found herself increasingly drawn to twentieth-century novelists, especially Irish writers like Joyce and Beckett. When she realized her medieval dissertation on Saint Bernard's Latin sermons would take decades to complete, she made a practical decision based on her funding timeline: she shuffled note cards with favorite authors' names and, by alphabetical chance, selected Beckett.
Her advisor John Unterecker warned that pursuing biography would be "academic suicide" during the heyday of New Criticism and French theory, but Bair completed her dissertation in record time, determined to write a full Beckett biography despite the scarcity of teaching positions for women. When she naively mentioned approaching it like a newspaper profile, her advisor raised an eyebrow and asked if she'd considered telling Beckett about her plans-introducing her to concepts like "permission" and "legal contracts" she'd never considered necessary.
To her astonishment, Beckett replied to her letter within a week. Though he first dismissed his life as "dull and without interest," claiming "the professors know more about it than I do," he then extended a stunning invitation: "Any biographical information I possess is at your disposal if you come to Paris I will see you." With the Danforth Foundation covering travel expenses and literary agent Carl Brandt offering representation, her biography career began with astonishing ease.
第 3 章
Navigating Beckett's World: A Labyrinth of Personalities
Bair's research into Beckett's life quickly became a masterclass in navigating complex personalities and agendas. Each person she interviewed revealed different facets of both Beckett and themselves, with behavior often changing dramatically between meetings-friendly and informative one day, cold and withholding the next.
Jerome Lindon, Beckett's longtime publisher at Les Editions de Minuit, initially spent hours sharing detailed information and gossip, showing correspondence and giving photos from the first French production of "Fin de partie." Days later, he refused access to his "too precious" clippings collection, forcing Bair to spend weeks in archives instead.
Many of Beckett's friends didn't know each other-he compartmentalized his relationships-and they all expected Bair to be their conduit for gossip, a role she refused. She quickly discovered that many self-proclaimed "friends" of "Sam" had booze-soaked stories that fell apart when she checked dates.
Some interviews proved particularly memorable. Roger Blin, who directed the first production of "Waiting for Godot," offered warm beer (he had no refrigerator) while regaling Bair with stories, often jumping up to act out scenes. He later attended a dinner party at her Paris apartment in a flamboyant yellow silk jacket and black shirt with chartreuse polka dots, entertaining everyone with stories until 2:30 a.m.
The Irish writer John Montague arranged an elaborate meeting beginning at a church, followed by a shoe-shopping excursion, before finally conducting the interview at his ex-wife's apartment. There, he delivered a prepared lecture about his importance in Beckett's life, repeatedly checking her recording equipment and instructing her to cite him "effusively."
Playwright Israel Horovitz demanded a meeting in New York before her Paris trip, ceremoniously presenting a decorated folder containing typed questions and answers, insisting she must "reproduce this book exactly" in the middle of her biography as "the authentic record of his greatest friendship with another great playwright."
Bair endured exhausting evenings at Dublin bars, buying drinks for characters who claimed to have stories about "Sam's escapades" while fending off their wandering hands. Her Irish women friends taught her how to reject propositions while keeping these men as acquaintances. She constantly dealt with unwanted sexual advances from men who found a traveling married mother incomprehensible.
Perhaps most valuable were the insights from actor Jack MacGowran, who described Beckett as retiring yet possessing "a ruthless desire for truth at any cost," a novelist who happened to write plays, for whom writing was "an agony" but necessary to "show things as they are." Most notably, MacGowran revealed that Beckett claimed "total womb recall"-the ability to remember being in the womb and his birth.
第 4 章
The McGreevy Letters: Uncovering Beckett's Dark Truths
Throughout her research, Bair pursued one particularly elusive source: Thomas McGreevy's correspondence with Beckett. McGreevy, nicknamed the "Shoveler" after being made a chevalier of the Legion of Honor, had maintained a deep friendship with Beckett from his Paris years until McGreevy's death in 1967.
For three years, Bair took McGreevy's two nieces to nice lunches and teas in Dublin, politely requesting access to this crucial correspondence. Each time they would defer the decision, promising to think about it before her next visit. She nicknamed them "The Godot Sisters. Not today, but surely tomorrow..."
Finally, during a research trip in 1974, one of the nieces invited Bair to come see the letters. What she discovered was breathtaking-letters stored in shoeboxes in an unheated hallway closet that revealed the dark truth behind Beckett's departure from Ireland. Not a benign portrait of Mae Beckett as a supportive mother, but a violent, bitter reality.
Beckett had confided only in McGreevy about his hatred for his mother and his fear that their toxic relationship would end in destruction. His drunken rampages and emotional distress manifested as physical illness, with his brother Frank suffering similar symptoms from the family's dysfunction. Samuel Beckett described in detail how he became so violent during his drunken debauches that he feared he would destroy his mother or himself.
Faced with limited time to review these crucial letters, Bair made the only dishonest decision of her professional life-secretly taking handfuls of letters back to her hotel each night to transcribe, returning them the next day. She grew increasingly ill while working frantically to copy everything, feeling guilty for deceiving the kind McGreevy nieces.
When she finally finished and returned to New York, her publisher's lawyers delivered devastating news: she couldn't use any information from the letters without corroboration, and Beckett's medical history was firmly off-limits. After initial despair, she decided to write the book exactly as she thought it should be written, and her publisher supported her. Later, as she expected, Beckett asked the nieces to destroy the letters.
第 5 章
Academic Politics and Publishing Perils
As Bair's Beckett biography neared completion, she faced intense hostility from the academic establishment. At the December Modern Language Association meeting in New York, several academics openly mocked her, with Dougald McMillan accusing her of "messing up the entire Beckett industry" and Calvin Israel suggesting inappropriately that she must have done something to get Beckett to "open up" to her.
When she approached James Knowlson, he refused to be seen talking to her. As she left, Professor Fred Robinson whispered, "So you're the little girl who stuck her hand in the cookie jar and ran away with all the goodies." Two female colleagues who witnessed this hostility were outraged and urged her to confront these men, but Bair remained detached, drawing strength from conversations with feminist friends.
Her publishing journey proved equally challenging. In January 1976, her agent Carl Brandt called to say Harper & Row wouldn't publish her Beckett biography, deeming it "unpublishable." She'd have to repay her advance if another publisher took it. Brandt handled the manuscript poorly, submitting it to other publishers one at a time and rarely communicating with her.
Sinking into depression, struggling with headaches after a car accident, taking various prescribed medications, and feeling overwhelmed by trying to be both a scholar and maintain family responsibilities, Bair wrote: "I don't want to be the wonder woman who cooks, bakes, decorates, manages, copes, etc. I'd like to be a good wife and mother, sure. But I want to be a scholar and a writer, too."
Finally, in November, after a disastrous lunch with an editor who suggested she needed a ghostwriter, Carl called with good news: Tom Stewart at Harcourt, Brace, Jovanovich wanted to publish the book. Though the advance was small and she'd still have to repay Harper & Row, she finally had an enthusiastic editor and excellent publisher.
When the publisher's lawyers insisted she get Beckett's written permission for every quotation from his letters and unpublished manuscripts, Bair reluctantly sent Beckett twenty-three single-spaced pages of quotations. To her relief, Beckett replied warmly, initialing every quotation except one poem he'd written at age twelve, which he said "shows better your diligence as a researcher than my development as a writer."
第 6 章
From Beckett to Beauvoir: A New Challenge
After the Beckett biography's publication, Bair fell into a professional funk, unable to focus on new work. Despite her agent urging her to "strike while still hot," she insisted she would never write another biography. She drifted through teaching responsibilities without enthusiasm, letting the academic backbiting wash over her.
During a lunch meeting with editor Dick McDonough in Boston, she surprised herself by declaring, "If I were ever to write another biography, it would have to be of a woman who made a success of every aspect of her life. She would have to have had a solid professional life, one that garnered respect and admiration, but even more, she would have to have had a happy and satisfying personal life. And since I cannot think of a single woman who had both, I guess I will never write another biography."
When McDonough suggested she examine her concerns through "an exemplary woman," they had their eureka moment with Simone de Beauvoir-"the only modern woman who made a success of everything." Despite her agent dismissing Beauvoir as "an over-the-hill French feminist" and her French representative claiming "she is not popular in France" and "what is she without Jean-Paul Sartre?", Bair insisted they try to sell the idea.
In September 1981, Bair wrote to Beauvoir, sending the French translation of her Beckett biography. Beauvoir's swift reply was encouraging-she had already read the book and was impressed that "an American" had captured "the French writer." She welcomed Bair because she wanted to write "about everything and not just my feminism or Sartre," inviting her to Paris "so that we can begin."
第 7 章
Meeting Beauvoir: A Different Kind of Literary Giant
In January 1982, Bair arrived in Paris to find Beauvoir as direct and businesslike as Beckett had been mysterious. Her bluntness was actually comforting compared to Beckett's mind games. Unlike Beckett, who initially didn't take Bair seriously but ultimately let her proceed independently, Beauvoir gave the distinct impression she expected to direct the work despite their agreement that she wouldn't impose herself on it.
At their first meeting on Beauvoir's birthday, Bair found "an absolutely charming woman, warm and friendly," who even offered that she could speak English given Bair's laryngitis. When Bair produced her thick stack of question cards, Beauvoir's eyes lit up-proof she'd been seriously researching. She began by thanking Bair: "Women come from all over the world to write about me, but all they want to write about is The Second Sex." Pounding one fist into her open hand, she continued, "I wrote so much else. I wrote philosophy, politics, fiction, autobiography... You are the only one who wants to write about everything."
Their interviews quickly established a ritual. After each formal session, they would share whiskey in what became their social hour for decompression. Though unrecorded, Bair documented these conversations immediately afterward at Cafe Dome. During these relaxed moments, Beauvoir often volunteered surprising information. Unlike her distant relationship with Beckett, Beauvoir moved naturally toward personal closeness, inviting Bair to publication parties and gallery openings.
The interviews revealed striking differences between Beauvoir's public persona and private reality. While she wrote of her "perfect" compact with Sartre, friends described her sometimes leaving their table to sit alone, consuming wine and sobbing uncontrollably before returning as if nothing happened. When Bair asked how she felt about events, Beauvoir would dismiss the questions: "It happened, it's life; there is nothing you can do; best to get on with it." Then down would come what Bair called the "Lucite curtain."
After one exhausting interview, Bair casually asked about the silver band on Beauvoir's middle finger. "Algren gave it to me. I wear it on this finger because it was supposed to be my wedding ring and I am going to be buried with it," she replied, launching into the story of her relationship with Nelson Algren. She revealed how deeply she had loved him, how he proposed during their Mexican holiday, and how she seriously considered leaving Sartre to become "an American housewife" in Chicago. She had never discussed Sartre or her other lovers with such emotion; those relationships she described with clinical detachment.
第 8 章
The Sisters de Beauvoir: Contrasting Memories
Bair's visits with Beauvoir's sister Helene in Goxwiller revealed striking differences between the sisters. With the same fine bone structure and complexion as Simone but with natural blonde hair, Helene immediately demonstrated their personality differences by efficiently solving practical problems. While Simone avoided practical details and decision-making, Helene tackled problems head-on.
Unlike her sister, Helene was genuinely interested in people, particularly "young ones" like Bair. Everything about Helene was graceful and beautiful-her cooking, her antique china and family silver, her ceremonial tea service-all in stark contrast to life in Simone's apartment on rue Schoelcher.
As they discussed their girlhood, the discrepancies between the sisters' memories became striking. Where Simone described their family apartment as perpetually dark, Helene recalled a light-filled space with large windows above boulevard du Montparnasse. Simone remembered formal occasions with ladies in black bombazine dresses and fidgeting children forced into silence, while Helene recounted joyful Sunday afternoons after large family luncheons, with piano music and dancing.
When Bair asked what Simone did during these gatherings, Helene laughed, "Oh, she probably sulked because she wanted to be off somewhere reading a book instead." From their childhood at the Meyrignac estate to Simone's relationship with Sartre, the sisters' accounts diverged dramatically.
These discrepancies created a quandary for Bair as biographer-how to determine which sister's memory was more valid? How could she present "the real truth" objectively rather than simply preferring one witness over another? Helene urged Bair to trust Simone's accounts, insisting her sister would "tell you the truth as she knows it, not as she wants it to be."
第 9 章
When Worlds Collide: Beckett and Beauvoir
Though Bair was scrupulous about never mentioning Beckett to Beauvoir or vice versa, respecting their long-standing animosity, their worlds occasionally intersected in unexpected ways. The tension between these two literary titans was well-known in Paris's intellectual circles, stemming from their divergent views on literature and politics in the post-war period. After an emotionally charged session with Beauvoir, where they had spent hours discussing the complexities of her relationship with Sartre, Bair was decompressing at the Dome, a famous Montparnasse cafe, when she spotted Samuel Beckett's distinctive silhouette at the bar.
During their slow walk to the Rosebud, another favorite haunt of Paris's literary elite, she found herself blurting out all the indignities she'd suffered since publishing his biography - the academic criticism, the personal attacks, and the questioning of her methods. The weight of being a young American scholar who dared to write about one of Ireland's most enigmatic writers had taken its toll.
Beckett seemed stunned but merely called it "unfortunate" before telling her he would "never respond to his critics." His characteristic restraint was evident as he mentioned he was "working with Jim now" - James Knowlson on an authorized biography, a project that would later become the definitive "Damned to Fame." As they parted in the gathering dusk of the Paris evening, Beckett offered advice Bair has followed ever since: "You must never explain. You must never complain." It was the last time she would see him, though his words would echo throughout her career.
The contrasts between working with these two literary giants were stark and illuminating. Beckett was elusive, carefully compartmentalizing his relationships, speaking to different friends in different languages about different aspects of his life. Beauvoir, conversely, was direct and integrated her circle, creating a web of interconnected relationships that reflected her philosophy of authentic living. Beckett's friends were international and multilingual, scattered across Europe and America, while Beauvoir's were predominantly French and Paris-focused, centered around the intellectual life of the Left Bank.
Where Beckett maintained professional distance, treating interviews as formal exchanges and rarely discussing personal matters, Beauvoir sought personal connection, often inviting Bair to share meals and engaging in long conversations about politics, feminism, and personal relationships. Their working styles reflected their literary approaches - Beckett's sparse, precise language contrasting with Beauvoir's expansive, analytical prose.
Yet both shared a remarkable dedication to their craft that transcended their differences. Beckett insisted "nothing matters but the writing," focusing solely on his art while living an almost monastic existence. Beauvoir, though initially reluctant to be France's "sacred monster," came to accept and utilize the influence it gave her to advance feminist causes and social justice. Both transformed their respective fields - Beckett revolutionizing theater with "Waiting for Godot" and his minimalist aesthetic, while Beauvoir's "The Second Sex" became the foundational text of modern feminism, each leaving an indelible mark on 20th-century thought and literature.
第 10 章
Legacy and Reflection: The Price of Biography
On April 14, 1986, Simone de Beauvoir died of pulmonary edema. As journalists began calling for comments, Bair retreated to her office and wrote in her diary: "I don't think I realized how much I liked her until now that she's gone. No-I didn't realize until now that I more than liked her: I respected her, sure; but I think I loved her, too."
The funeral procession to Montparnasse Cemetery drew 3,000-5,000 people-mothers with strollers, African women with banners declaring themselves "daughters of Simone de Beauvoir," academics who'd joined the 1968 protests. Even a taxi driver abandoned his cab to join when told whose funeral it was. Waiters stood respectfully outside the cafes where Beauvoir had spent countless hours.
Bair faced the daunting task of rewriting her nearly-finished biography, transforming what had been a living document about an active writer into a definitive conclusion. "I have to write this bloody book all over again," she noted, "starting at the beginning and ending with something very different."
Throughout her career, Bair encountered gendered dynamics in biographical work. At academic panels discussing whether women could write about men or vice versa, audiences readily accepted men writing about women but questioned women writing about men. More troublingly, the question of whether female subjects were even worthy of biography often simmered beneath discussions.
When reflecting on her biographies, Bair felt an unbelievable privilege to have written about two cultural giants. Though biographers shouldn't have feelings about subjects, she developed positive ones-from admiration to a kind of love. What she felt most was respect for their purity of vision and certainty in their work.
In "Parisian Lives," Bair has created not just a memoir of her biographical adventures but a masterclass in the art of biography itself. Her work illuminates not only the lives of Beckett and Beauvoir but also the complex, challenging, and often bizarre process of capturing literary giants on the page. Through persistence, integrity, and remarkable resilience, she established herself as one of the most important biographers of the twentieth century, breaking ground for women in a field traditionally dominated by men while creating definitive portraits of two of literature's most enigmatic figures.
