by Jean-Paul Sartre
In terms of its style and craft of writing, this autobiography may well
be unequaled. The prose is perfect, beautiful and brilliant. The depth
of thought in the self-analysis, the clarity of the examination and the
honesty, is also brilliant. A lot of the references to Sartre’s
childhood reading material went over my head, unfortunately. But that’s
minor; I was still awed by his insight and style. Sartre says
elsewhere that this is not an apology or a self-repudiation, although it
may seem so. It’s merely a totally open representation of a life from
its origins to its path to rebirth.
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