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4.06 AVERAGE
4.06 AVERAGE
This book is more like an experience you go through than just a book you read. I'm still not sure how to rate it. It is harder to read if your attention is at all fragmented, like mine is - the sentences are so long that I kept losing track of what was being talked about. It's just so dense, but not heavy-dense, more ethereal, as insubstantial as a cloud, pages and pages about this or that flower garden, or what that famous cookie dipped in tea conjured up in the narrator's brain. It's mainly about how we remember things, how we reconstruct them in our minds and the difference between the memory and the reality. And it's also about how astonishingly delusional people in love are. I think.
But it's also incredibly funny in places. Here's my favourite sentence from the overwrought narrator: "This day which I had so dreaded was, as it happened, one of the few on which I was not unduly wretched."
Still figuring out how I feel about the book, but it was an enjoyable experience and kept me going for the full 606 pages. The translation seems a good one, and there is a very useful chapter summary at the end, in case you're wondering what it was you just read. I think I will actually take a stab at the next volume , just to see where it's all going. And to exercise my ability to concentrate for long distances.
But it's also incredibly funny in places. Here's my favourite sentence from the overwrought narrator: "This day which I had so dreaded was, as it happened, one of the few on which I was not unduly wretched."
Still figuring out how I feel about the book, but it was an enjoyable experience and kept me going for the full 606 pages. The translation seems a good one, and there is a very useful chapter summary at the end, in case you're wondering what it was you just read. I think I will actually take a stab at the next volume , just to see where it's all going. And to exercise my ability to concentrate for long distances.
emotional
funny
lighthearted
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Hated it. So many words and so little to say. I won't waste any more on this review.
Marking as "finished" for now but without a rating. I think I need to read this after I read another list that will build up to this one. Weird book
Kerouac once said, "like Proust, be an old teahead of time." I've seldom read such sublime and brilliant descriptions of human experience. This novel is a phenomenological study of the memory of sensation, written by a French poet. Proust captures moments of time experienced and lost with heartbreaking preciseness that, depending on the page, can be either gorgeous or overwhelming. A great deal of patience is required to settle into his style and themes, but there is a reason why this series is considered one of the greatest literary works ever produced.
I have wanted to read this ever since
but, as beautifully written and poignant as it is, Swann's Way is simply not my cup of tea (with petite madeleines).
Proust never says in a sentence what he can digress and dither about over many many many lyrical pages. Which is maybe why I felt the stirrings of a tension headache any time I read more than about 10 pages while holding onto a plot point.
but, as beautifully written and poignant as it is, Swann's Way is simply not my cup of tea (with petite madeleines).
Proust never says in a sentence what he can digress and dither about over many many many lyrical pages. Which is maybe why I felt the stirrings of a tension headache any time I read more than about 10 pages while holding onto a plot point.
challenging
emotional
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
Not an easy read, by any means, but absolutely worth the effort for all that it tells us about language and the nature of memory. While I was reading it I thought of Anne Lamott's comment about keeping a one-inch picture frame on her desk to remind herself to describe just so much at once. M. Proust certainly does that here, and of every inch: his descriptions are exhaustive and searching, considered from every conceivable angle, giving deep meaning and resonance to objects, places, people. And yet because they are inextricably bound up with the narrator's emotional life, the descriptions are not mere set-dressing, but a vital element of the story itself. I am surprised and delighted by how much I enjoyed this and how fully it immersed me.
