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A review by trve_zach
The Prisoner by Marcel Proust
I have been saying it for a decade now (when I first began this adventure with Proust and his masterwork), but this is some of the best writing you’re going to find anywhere, even in translation (I can only imagine being able to read the native French text).
This volume focuses mostly on Albertine and the narrator’s obsessive jealousy and need to control her. Truly I did not see the slow build of near-madness that is represented here in unfettered jealousy and paranoia. It made me consider the nature of our narrator and subsequently the entire work in a different, slightly more menacing light. While Albertine is the focus, Charlus and his unhealthy relationships are mirrored here in a queer corollary. The societal games remain, as ever, ridiculous and fun and engaging (especially as applies to Charlus and his thinly veiled sexuality and taboo behavior).
That said, like all other volumes, this book is about so much more: the beauty of a full moon and of music and visual art and the pleasure of being alone, the ability of sense memories to transport, the loss of friends and family, the painful experiences of growing up, and the desire to escape the cocoon of habit.
I read most of this while Khemmis was on tour with Mastodon and Opeth, either in the van or backstage, and it was a great comfort (weirdly enough) to be able to escape some of the more stressful/shitty parts of being on the road. It also makes me fondly reflect on the fun times from that run. I look forward to jumping into volume six hopefully later this year.
This volume focuses mostly on Albertine and the narrator’s obsessive jealousy and need to control her. Truly I did not see the slow build of near-madness that is represented here in unfettered jealousy and paranoia. It made me consider the nature of our narrator and subsequently the entire work in a different, slightly more menacing light. While Albertine is the focus, Charlus and his unhealthy relationships are mirrored here in a queer corollary. The societal games remain, as ever, ridiculous and fun and engaging (especially as applies to Charlus and his thinly veiled sexuality and taboo behavior).
That said, like all other volumes, this book is about so much more: the beauty of a full moon and of music and visual art and the pleasure of being alone, the ability of sense memories to transport, the loss of friends and family, the painful experiences of growing up, and the desire to escape the cocoon of habit.
I read most of this while Khemmis was on tour with Mastodon and Opeth, either in the van or backstage, and it was a great comfort (weirdly enough) to be able to escape some of the more stressful/shitty parts of being on the road. It also makes me fondly reflect on the fun times from that run. I look forward to jumping into volume six hopefully later this year.