André Gide’s Si le grain ne meurt is possibly the most annoying autobiography I’ve read. The man made a useless, insensitive, snobbish child and I’m prepared to believe that he did say that suicide was “« louable » for certain people” to someone who was to kill himself a few months later. Why he felt the need to share this state of affairs with the world escapes me.
Addendum:  sums up my feelings on it, exactly.
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