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4.06 AVERAGE
4.06 AVERAGE
not my cup of tea at the time I picked it up
Em minha opinião, nesta obra os spoilers não incomodam pelo que recorri a textos de ajuda para a sua leitura; ninguém ignora, por exemplo, a famosa cena do Narrador, que mergulhando uma madalena no chá, convoca através do sabor as imagens da infância.
Rememorar o passado – sem respeitar a ordem cronológica dos factos -, procurar o tempo perdido para reencontrá-lo no último volume. A escrita de Proust é um bordado não em ponto de cruz mas em ponto pé de flor: uma laçada à frente, meia laçada atrás, uma laçada à frente, meia laçada atrás resultando num total maior e mais espesso que o total das laçadas.
Mas o que Proust tem que os outros não têm? Tem uma narrativa que nunca acaba, ou seja, em determinado sentido , nunca começa. Proust joga com o Tempo nas três partes do livro, e coloca o Narrador longos minutos em suspensão defronte de um espinheiro, para dar apenas um exemplo. O livro tem longas Pausas, ou, não seja Proust conhecido como um romancista pródigo em descrições, o que provoca um certo tédio. Contudo, essas passagens descritivas não são, relativamente à amplidão da obra, nem muito longas, nem muito numerosas (pouco mais de trinta, segundo os especialistas).
A escrita é muito detalhada e confesso que saltei algumas páginas, uma vez, ou outra.
Irá Proust mudar a minha vida? Sigo para o próximo volume.
Rememorar o passado – sem respeitar a ordem cronológica dos factos -, procurar o tempo perdido para reencontrá-lo no último volume. A escrita de Proust é um bordado não em ponto de cruz mas em ponto pé de flor: uma laçada à frente, meia laçada atrás, uma laçada à frente, meia laçada atrás resultando num total maior e mais espesso que o total das laçadas.
Mas o que Proust tem que os outros não têm? Tem uma narrativa que nunca acaba, ou seja, em determinado sentido , nunca começa. Proust joga com o Tempo nas três partes do livro, e coloca o Narrador longos minutos em suspensão defronte de um espinheiro, para dar apenas um exemplo. O livro tem longas Pausas, ou, não seja Proust conhecido como um romancista pródigo em descrições, o que provoca um certo tédio. Contudo, essas passagens descritivas não são, relativamente à amplidão da obra, nem muito longas, nem muito numerosas (pouco mais de trinta, segundo os especialistas).
A escrita é muito detalhada e confesso que saltei algumas páginas, uma vez, ou outra.
Irá Proust mudar a minha vida? Sigo para o próximo volume.
adventurous
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
challenging
emotional
reflective
sad
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:
Yes
First version of review eaten. An acquired taste, but after 30 pages I'd acquired it.
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
No
reflective
slow-paced
The central concern of this book, that there is an infinitely expansive landscape of memory in the mind of any given person which can be unleashed through the power of sense-memory, is such a profoundly evocative subject Proust explores to the tiniest detail that it totally overwhelms the actual content of this first chapter of In Search of Lost Time. As a reader with very little knowledge about Proust outside of vaguely understanding what the phrase 'Proustian reverie' indicates, I was surprised to learn that Swann's Way is, in fact, a deeply sympathetic portrait of a pathologically jealous man painted at three layers of remove from his actual lived experience. It is a book told from the perspective of an adult man, who is recalling, through the memory of his childhood, apprehending gossip about the romantic/sexual proclivities of some guy named Swann who fell in love with a sex worker and just could not keep his shit together. Piling onto that, the narrator is this weirdo of a kid with a diagnosable fixation on receiving kisses from his helicopter mom.
I don't mean to describe Swann's Way in such unflattering terms to denigrate it so much as to describe it and work through my feelings on it. The sort of unspoken aspect of Proust's project (unspoken to me, at least, who has only ever been exposed to Proust second-hand by reputation and parody) of tracing back sense-memories and immortalizing them is that there is a profound, unbidden psychological and psycho-sexual longing that dominates the work. In the pursuit of extracting the rawest and most perfect description of a life already-lived, the feelings that would seem the most inexpressible to the person experiencing them are the ones that reign over the rest of the narrative. Swann's Way is a story with a remarkable amount of historical and descriptive detail that nevertheless gives way to this kind of animalistic honesty that's so direct, so undisguised, that it's almost hard to read it written so plainly. It's the literary equivalent of being put into The Matrix to relive puberty but with all the power and language of a world-class modernist author.
And so, in spite of the fact that Swann's Way is so familiar in that it deals mostly in the big, broad feelings of childhood, it also feels unlike anything else I've read. But Proust's overwhelming concern with five-alarm fire-scale psychosexual repression must by necessity color over so much else about his life and relationships. It's like reading a book in which the sort of thematic or poetic framing of the topic at hand master the author, rather than the other way around. But Swann's Way is only the first part of a very long story, making any kind of definitive takeaway from having read only this part impossible.
I don't mean to describe Swann's Way in such unflattering terms to denigrate it so much as to describe it and work through my feelings on it. The sort of unspoken aspect of Proust's project (unspoken to me, at least, who has only ever been exposed to Proust second-hand by reputation and parody) of tracing back sense-memories and immortalizing them is that there is a profound, unbidden psychological and psycho-sexual longing that dominates the work. In the pursuit of extracting the rawest and most perfect description of a life already-lived, the feelings that would seem the most inexpressible to the person experiencing them are the ones that reign over the rest of the narrative. Swann's Way is a story with a remarkable amount of historical and descriptive detail that nevertheless gives way to this kind of animalistic honesty that's so direct, so undisguised, that it's almost hard to read it written so plainly. It's the literary equivalent of being put into The Matrix to relive puberty but with all the power and language of a world-class modernist author.
And so, in spite of the fact that Swann's Way is so familiar in that it deals mostly in the big, broad feelings of childhood, it also feels unlike anything else I've read. But Proust's overwhelming concern with five-alarm fire-scale psychosexual repression must by necessity color over so much else about his life and relationships. It's like reading a book in which the sort of thematic or poetic framing of the topic at hand master the author, rather than the other way around. But Swann's Way is only the first part of a very long story, making any kind of definitive takeaway from having read only this part impossible.
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
challenging
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
N/A
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Will need to reread to fully appreciate but: Oh My God.