Anaïs Nin's diary served as her mirror, her confidant, the only place where she was truly herself and scrupulously honest about even unpleasant truths. For those who are fascinated by every word of this ultimate diarist, [Linotte: The Early Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1914–1920] will no doubt prove an invaluable addition to the adult works, but for those less enamored, it can make uncomfortable reading. Perhaps it should have been left a mirror to oblivion, for its pages read like an unwitting exposure of a young girl's infatuation with extremes of feeling and with her own self-image as a suffering "dreamer"….

The mature writer's control and power are rarely in evidence; here the emphasis is on the intensity of her feelings rather than on the intensity with which the reader experiences what she describes….

It is interesting to compare the extreme subjectivity of this early diary with...