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4.06 AVERAGE
4.06 AVERAGE
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
challenging
funny
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
I set myself the challenge this year of reading the million-word novel known as Remembrance of Things Past, In Search of Lost Time, or À la Recherche du Temps Perdu.
I suspect most modern readers would hate this book with its astonishingly long sentences (up to 600 words) and its tendency to obsess for many pages on end on small matters such as whether the main character's mother will kiss him goodnight (80 pages) or whether the sun will come out so that the narrator can go and play in the Champs-Elysées and therefore see the girl he loves. However, it is all written so beautifully and with such a lovely ironic sense of the frivolity of these concerns that I found it very absorbing. Also, I laughed out loud half a dozen times, and not many books have that effect on me, so for that alone, it was worth it.
The author's descriptive passages are so lovely that I didn't mind how long they were. It almost feels as though nothing happens in the whole novel (and that is kind of the point, because the two main characters — the narrator and his neighbour Charles Swann — cannot ever do anything decisive) but when I looked back at the end, I realised there was quite an engaging plot.
Another reason for reading this book is that it is simply so different from everything else I have ever read, even though I have read a lot of novels from this era. It is truly impossible to describe, and you will either love it or hate it—I can't predict which.
I suspect most modern readers would hate this book with its astonishingly long sentences (up to 600 words) and its tendency to obsess for many pages on end on small matters such as whether the main character's mother will kiss him goodnight (80 pages) or whether the sun will come out so that the narrator can go and play in the Champs-Elysées and therefore see the girl he loves. However, it is all written so beautifully and with such a lovely ironic sense of the frivolity of these concerns that I found it very absorbing. Also, I laughed out loud half a dozen times, and not many books have that effect on me, so for that alone, it was worth it.
The author's descriptive passages are so lovely that I didn't mind how long they were. It almost feels as though nothing happens in the whole novel (and that is kind of the point, because the two main characters — the narrator and his neighbour Charles Swann — cannot ever do anything decisive) but when I looked back at the end, I realised there was quite an engaging plot.
Another reason for reading this book is that it is simply so different from everything else I have ever read, even though I have read a lot of novels from this era. It is truly impossible to describe, and you will either love it or hate it—I can't predict which.
emotional
lighthearted
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Pierwsza część serii opowiadań o życiu autora jest utrzymana w bardzo nostalgicznym i tęsknym tonie. Marcel Proust lubi nawiązywać do swoich wspomnień, malując nam przekrzywiony obraz przeszłości, jaką zapamiętał. Podoba mi się jego przedstawianie tych odczuć, które tak często towarzyszom nam podczas naszych własnych wspomnień z dzieciństwa.
Większą część tej książki zajmue jednak jednostronny romans Swanna z Odettą, który zakochany bez umiaru, przechodzi miłosne męczarnie dla wybranki jego serca, która tak naprawdę nigdy go nie kochała. Przeżycie opusane jest bardzo ciekawie i owocnie, wciągając czytelnika w rozterki biednego Swanna.
Proust ma również bardzo specyficzny sposób opisywania, niemal wyśpiewując sonaty prostym i zwyczajnym rzeczą, takim jak katedry czy głóg. Jest człowiekiem z wyjątkową delikatnością i wrażliwością, którą wyraża na każdym kroku swojego pisarskiego dzieła.
Większą część tej książki zajmue jednak jednostronny romans Swanna z Odettą, który zakochany bez umiaru, przechodzi miłosne męczarnie dla wybranki jego serca, która tak naprawdę nigdy go nie kochała. Przeżycie opusane jest bardzo ciekawie i owocnie, wciągając czytelnika w rozterki biednego Swanna.
Proust ma również bardzo specyficzny sposób opisywania, niemal wyśpiewując sonaty prostym i zwyczajnym rzeczą, takim jak katedry czy głóg. Jest człowiekiem z wyjątkową delikatnością i wrażliwością, którą wyraża na każdym kroku swojego pisarskiego dzieła.
I couldn’t really put into words what I expected, but I didn’t expect to be blown away by this as much as I was and am. This is gorgeous and so evocative - and deeply satisfying to me. I love this.
swann’s lowkey boring. team narrator all the way!
captivating book though... told myself i was in no rush to read the other six (6) novels in the collection, but i just realized i have the second one already in my possession. so you may see me adding yet another honker to my “currently reading” list soon. no promises tho
captivating book though... told myself i was in no rush to read the other six (6) novels in the collection, but i just realized i have the second one already in my possession. so you may see me adding yet another honker to my “currently reading” list soon. no promises tho
Read this off and on, with a couple aborted starts. When I finally came back to it a third time, planning just to kill time and not intending to finish it any time soon, I finally ‘got’ it. When you give it time, it’s one of the most pleasant books I’ve ever read. The prose is beautiful and even the most challenging sentences reward your decoding like a kind of easy crossword clue. But when I tried to rush it, it just didn’t work. You’re supposed to read to enjoy yourself and relax, it seems to argue with its form, not to arrive at the end. (This makes some sense re: his thematic aim, as memories of an unreachable past are best in the middle of the act of remembering, there is no tangible, satisfying past to return to, and once the remembering is done, you're left empty.) Given the childhood baggage about reading slowly that, frankly, motivated me to tackle a 4,000+ page multi-volume novel like a rehabilitated amputee running a marathon, it was sometimes hard not to want it over with so I could collect my trophy.
On the first read, the structure’s pretty odd, and though I’m under the impression that derailing the narrative halfway through for a novella-sized digression about the love affair of the titular side character was done for some purpose that will become clear later on, it’s a weird choice nonetheless and comes right after my favorite part of the novel (the indulgent sensory meditations on detail at the end of Combray II). I did wish I felt Swann's pain more in this section. Given the subject matter, you'd think it would be ripe for dredging the readers emotions up, but I felt largely detached through this section until the incredible passage at the Guermantes's party as Swann listens to the music one final time.
Davis’s translation is the way to go as far as I’m concerned, and it sucks that after her, within the Penguin route, the next translator is Grieve, who couldn’t have a more different approach as a translator (one that I think is pretty ill-advised), so you're basically forced to go back to the MKE translation for the remaining volumes.
On the first read, the structure’s pretty odd, and though I’m under the impression that derailing the narrative halfway through for a novella-sized digression about the love affair of the titular side character was done for some purpose that will become clear later on, it’s a weird choice nonetheless and comes right after my favorite part of the novel (the indulgent sensory meditations on detail at the end of Combray II). I did wish I felt Swann's pain more in this section. Given the subject matter, you'd think it would be ripe for dredging the readers emotions up, but I felt largely detached through this section until the incredible passage at the Guermantes's party as Swann listens to the music one final time.
Davis’s translation is the way to go as far as I’m concerned, and it sucks that after her, within the Penguin route, the next translator is Grieve, who couldn’t have a more different approach as a translator (one that I think is pretty ill-advised), so you're basically forced to go back to the MKE translation for the remaining volumes.
I wavered horribly one this one. Trouble is, I can see the points of view of both those who say that this is a wonderful work of literature and those who say that it's like reading paint dry. I intermittently empaphised with both camps whilst reading the book. Proust writes brilliantly,conjuring up wonderful scenes and vistas, but the long long sentences and almost complete disregard for anything resembling action or forward momentum nevertheless made it a bit of a chore at times, especially the first and last sections. I enjoyed the middle section a lot more, both because of the wonderful insights into the delusions of love (I recognised myself in Swann far too often) and because, well, things happened. I suspect that if I reread this when I'm older and wiser, I'll score it higher.
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated