While reading the pages of incessant rumination by the narrator, who seems obsessively absorbed within his subjective experience, just as one has had enough, and wants to finally put the book down and call it quits; a flash of brilliance arrives, a rare self aware revelation, that is so true, so poignant, that one feels as if they had just discovered an objective truth about life; then, one does finally put the book down, but not to bail, rather to contemplate - a momentary reprieve from the monotony of daily life. Again and again. That is the gift of Proust.
What starts of as tedious and exhaustive, that is to say, Proust’s style, slowly becomes a delight, causing one to derive such joy from reading Proust, that it were as if every time they picked up the book, they were seeing an old friend again.
Never have I read anything so beautiful, so moving, delicate in form yet transcendental. The fact that the prose is not merely aesthetic, but serve a purpose for the medium, sweeping you away into another world, dissolving the barrier between subject and object, is testament to Proust’s ingenuity. The prose reads with that effortless Mozartian quality, where the succession of words feels so right, that it could not be done any other way.
A famous critic said In Search of Lost Time was the culmination of the novel. That nothing more had been said or could be said. In the moments I try to read something else to change things up, but always end up gravitating back to Proust, I tend to agree.
I just wanted to share my delight in reading this novel.
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I completely resonate with your experience of reading Proust’s work. In the midst of what initially feels like a daunting narrative, I, too, have found those flashes of brilliance that make the journey so worthwhile. Proust’s ability to weave intricate layers of introspection and self-awareness into his prose is truly unparalleled. I find myself repeatedly drawn to his work, much like revisiting an old friend, each time discovering new facets of beauty and depth. There’s an undeniable magic in the way Proust dissolves the boundaries between the reader and the narrative, offering a unique escape into a world both delicate and transcendent. It’s a testament to his literary genius that, despite attempts to explore other works, the allure of Proust remains unmatched. Thank you for sharing your delightful experience with this extraordinary novel.
I read it a year or two ago and absolutely agree with you. There are pages of nothing very much and then a wonderful section (his grandmother’s illness; the salon of appalling people in the house they rent for the summer; the war with planes flying overhead). I’ve heard said that reading Proust is like climbing Everest - some bits are just a slog but the view makes it worthwhile
I absolutely adore this work, volume 2 is my favourite of them all, I re read it every year whilst I am on holiday myself.
I find Proust very soothing, all those long, winding sentences with a tiny kernal of happening at their heart.
My words totally.