MY LIFE - Introductory - CONFESS that when it was first proposed to me I had a terror of writing this book

Sep 22, 2026

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The text is the opening of Isadora Duncan’s autobiographical work, beginning with a list of illustrations and a reflective “INTRODUCTORY” passage. Duncan confesses fear and difficulty in writing her life, arguing that real events become less vivid without the right writer’s “pen.” She questions how truth about oneself can be captured when friends, lovers, and enemies hold conflicting visions, and she illustrates this through reactions to her work and a critic who turns out to be deaf. The passage then considers how memory and dreams shape experience and writing.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryLiterature

FormatPDF

Pages388

Reading Time9 h 58 min

AccessFree to download

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

INTRODUCTORY

9039/L-74 llustrated with photographs from the original edition Digitized by the Internet Archivein 2012 http://archive.org/details/mylife00dunc 0Baa00. H eoP10 2 MY LIFE ISADORA DUNCANFrom a photograph by Arnold Genthe # Mylife byISADORA DUNCAN LIVERIGHT NEW YORK Copyright 1927 by Boni &Liveright,Inc. Copyright renewed 1955 by Liveright Publishing Corporation.All rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permissionin writing from the publisher. ISBN:0-87140-942-9(cloth edition). ISBN:0-87140-081-2(paper edition). Library of Congress Catalog Card Number:28-197046789 Manufactured in the United States of America # LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Isadora Duncan Frontispiece From a photograph by Arnold Genthe FACING PAGE Isadora Duncan(1898) 24 Two photographs by Jacob Schloss Isadora Duncan56As the First Fairy in “Midsummer Night's Dream” Raymond Duncan172 Isadora Duncan with Her Pupils180From a photograph by Paul Berger Edward Gordon Craig188 Isadora Duncan212Photograph by Arnold Genthe Isadora Duncan(Paris)244 Isadora Duncan with Her Two Children280 Isadora Duncan at the Acropolis356 INTRODUCTORY CONFESS that when it was first proposed to me I had aterror of writing this book.Not that my life has notbeen more interesting than any novel and more adven-turous than any cinema and,if really well written,would notbe an epoch-making recital,but there's the rub—the writingof it! I It has taken me years of struggle,hard work and researchto learn to make one simple gesture,and I know enoughabout the Art of writing to realise that it would take meagain just so many years of concentrated effort to writeone simple,beautiful sentence.How often have I contendedthat although one man might toil to the Equator and havetremendous exploits with lions and tigers,and try to writeabout it,yet fail,whereas another,who never left his veran-dah,might write of the killing of tigers in their jungles in away to make his readers feel that he was actually there,untilthey can suffer his agony and apprehension,smell lions andhear the fearful approach of the rattle-snake.Nothingseems to exist save in the imagination,and all the marvel-lous things that have happened to me may lose their savourbecause I do not possess the pen of a Cervantes or even ofa Casanova. Then another thing.How can we write the truth aboutourselves?Do we even know it?There is the vision ourfriends have of us;the vision we have of ourselves,and thevision our lover has of us.Also the vision our enemieshave of us—and all these visions are different.I have goodreason to know this,because I have had served to me withmy morning coffee newspaper criticisms that declared I was My Life beautiful as a goddess,and that I was a genius,and hardlyhad I finished smiling contentedly over this,than I pickedup the next paper and read that I was without any talent,badly shaped and a perfect harpy. I soon gave up reading criticisms of my work.I could notstipulate that I should only be given the good ones,and thebad were too depressing and provocatively homicidal.Therewas a critic in Berlin who pursued me with insults.Amongother things he said that I was profoundly unmusical.Oneday I wrote imploring him to come and see me and I wouldconvince him of his errors.He came and as he sat there,across the tea-table,I harangued him for an hour and a halfabout my theories of visional movement created from music.I noticed that he seemed most prosaic and stolid,but whatwas my uproarious dismay when he produced from hispocket a deafaphone and informed me he was quite deaf andeven with his instrument could hardly hear the orchestra;although he sat in the first row of the stalls!This was theman whose views on myself had kept me awake at night! So,if at each point of view others see in us a different per-son how are we to find in ourselves yet another personality ofwhom to write in this book?Is it to be the Chaste Ma

FAQs

What does Isadora Duncan say about writing her life at the beginning of the book?

She confesses she had a terror of writing the book when it was first proposed, despite believing her life is more adventurous than any novel or cinema.

Why does she question the possibility of writing the truth about oneself?

She explains that different people—friends, a lover, enemies, and herself—hold different visions of who she is, so the “truth” is uncertain and varies by perspective.

How does she relate criticism and personal portrayal to her writing?

She describes how newspaper criticisms praised her as beautiful and genius-like, then quickly flipped to claim she lacked talent, shaping her understanding of how others perceive her.

Sep 22, 2026

Upload by Angel