[From an entry in my diary, dated 9 December 1991:]
Essentially conformist except, as Marx said of Germans [e.g. his critique of Hegel], in the realm of ideas; atheistic, in a sort of down-to-earth, uncouth way, like many who rebel (superficially) against their Catholic upbringing; instinctively a liar, that is to say, someone who lies quickly, spontaneously, automatically - perhaps without even realizing it - a perfect artist in this sphere; someone for whom friendship is having people who think you are the cat's whiskers, and for whose sake you do things only to the extent that this will increase their admiration; mildly cruel, sadistic (someone who derives pleasure from the contemplation of inferiority, whether real or perceived), in a sort of petty, fashionable, very 'Parisian' way; essentially un- and even anti-poetic; essentially promiscuous; convinced of her own superiority, yet ever willing to lick the system's arse, for 'superiority' she can only conceive of in terms of the hierarchy imposed by the status quo (and what a status quo, I might add! - for, after all, even 'statuses quo' are to some extent a matter of choice); passive, narcissistic in lovemaking...
