loving the work, not the author

Simone de Beauvoir, the mother of feminist thought, has shaped many of my own thoughts about women and freedom. I often quote her and her anecdotes to justify my opinions in conversations that I hold, and it instantly boosts my credibility. In fact, if there's one book I keep revisiting, it is her most famous work to date — The Second Sex. A rather expensive book for my humble collection, but still worth it.

Her views on existentialism and how she wove that with the gendered roles that disallow women from achieving transcendence also laid the groundwork for a lot of feminist thought of the century that followed. She has become synonymous with female empowerment itself.

And if you were to ask me — do I admire her work? Hell yes I do. But do I see her as the epitome of an upright woman and walk her path? The answer would not be in the affirmative.

If you know anything about Simone de Beauvoir's sexual misadventures, you'd know she was deeply unconventional. But her personal choices are not really the concern here — it is her misuse of scholarly authority as a teacher to manipulate and groom young students, drawing them in to satisfy her own desires.

She was reportedly suspended from teaching after being accused of engaging in a sexually exploitative relationship with a 17-year-old student. And these were not isolated incidents.

What's worse is how she funnelled these students toward Sartre. With him she maintained an 'open relationship' — and she didn't just share these women, she actively procured them for his pleasure. Together, they referred to them as their "conquests" in the letters they exchanged.

It's this hypocrisy that makes me question my own assumptions from time to time. The woman who wrote that society confines women to immanence — to serving others, to existing in relation to men rather than for themselves — spent significant portions of her own life serving Sartre's desires, sourcing his lovers, and absorbing his terms — all while calling it radical feminism.