As a card-carrying member of the Proust fan club, I was so delighted to come across your Substack—especially since I'm embarking on a reread of In Search of Lost Time this year! I loved your reflection on the atmosphere of the novel, and wanted to share this passage from Anne Carson's The Albertine Workout, in case you haven't come across it yet:
"Air, for example, in Proust can be (adjectivally) gummy, flaked, squeezed, frayed, pressed or percolated in Book 1; powdery, crumbling, embalmed, distilled, scattered, liquid or volatilized in Book 2; woven or brittle in Book 3; congealed in Book 4; melted, glazed, unctuous, elastic, fermenting, contracted, distended in Book 5; solidified in Book 6; and there seems to be no air at all in Book 7. I can see very little value in this kind of information, but making such lists is some of the best fun you'll have once you enter the desert of After Proust."
I also loved your analysis of how Proust's narrator is affected by the Dreyfus affair, and Charlus's wilfully apolitical stance on it all. This is such a sensitive, searching writeup and it was a genuine pleasure to read.
Very thoughtful, provocative piece—thank you for something to get one thinking on New Year’s Day. Regarding footnote 1, I say go for it! Paying attention to a person is the most concrete form of love. Many people now love their smart phones more than people. And in the US version of hyper-capitalism, technology/smart phones/social media basically monetizes hate.
As a card-carrying member of the Proust fan club, I was so delighted to come across your Substack—especially since I'm embarking on a reread of In Search of Lost Time this year! I loved your reflection on the atmosphere of the novel, and wanted to share this passage from Anne Carson's The Albertine Workout, in case you haven't come across it yet:
"Air, for example, in Proust can be (adjectivally) gummy, flaked, squeezed, frayed, pressed or percolated in Book 1; powdery, crumbling, embalmed, distilled, scattered, liquid or volatilized in Book 2; woven or brittle in Book 3; congealed in Book 4; melted, glazed, unctuous, elastic, fermenting, contracted, distended in Book 5; solidified in Book 6; and there seems to be no air at all in Book 7. I can see very little value in this kind of information, but making such lists is some of the best fun you'll have once you enter the desert of After Proust."
I also loved your analysis of how Proust's narrator is affected by the Dreyfus affair, and Charlus's wilfully apolitical stance on it all. This is such a sensitive, searching writeup and it was a genuine pleasure to read.
Very thoughtful, provocative piece—thank you for something to get one thinking on New Year’s Day. Regarding footnote 1, I say go for it! Paying attention to a person is the most concrete form of love. Many people now love their smart phones more than people. And in the US version of hyper-capitalism, technology/smart phones/social media basically monetizes hate.