The Year of Reading Proust discussion

Fionnuala wrote: "Kalliope wrote: "Proust had been indirectly alluded to (when his translations of Ruskin are mentioned by Jupien)."

And Jupien goes on to mention the forty thieves, or ten, that might be found any ..."

Here is the quote I was thinking of... Pompeii and Sodome...

Charlus talking..

Il n'y aura pas d'alerte ce soir au moins, car je me vois d'ici calciné par ce feu du ciel comme un habitant de Sodome. p.232.

Kalliope wrote: "Kalliope wrote: "Yes, (and I will put the quote later on.. it is also later in the text).. there is an explanation to the bizarre behaviour of Charlues in Jupien's hotel (bizarre in both its extrem..."

And now he equates Charlus's fantasies with his own (mentioned in third person) - going to Venice. They are similar "fantaisies poétiques". p. 233.

I'm on page 239, Kall, and I understand your question 'Who is Françoise?'
Proust having glorified Françoise's relatives and declared them the only true and exact characters in the Recherche, that begs the question, is Françoise not also true and exact?

And the line, Voilà la Guillaumesse., 239, how funny is that....

Fionnuala wrote: "I'm on page 239, Kall, and I understand your question 'Who is Françoise?'
Prpust having glorified Françoise's relatives and declared them the only true and exact characters in the Recherche, that b..."

That's right... the writer is beginning to take off his mask.

And the voyeurism displayed by Françoise, how common it is: Sans doute Françoise plaignait la douleur de Mme de Marsantes de tout son cœur, mais elle regrettait de ne pas connaître la forme que cette douleur avait prise et de ne pouvoir s'en donner le spectacle de l'affliction. 243
Françoise needs to see exactly how badly Saint-Loup's mother is suffering. Sadism is not confined to brothels..

Kalliope wrote: "Venice comes back and it signals resurrection.... and Proust himself can be guessed in the text...

Ce désir que réveille chaque fois la vue d'une écuyère, qui dira jamais à quel rêve conscient et..."

To breathe...

"But my grandmother, in all weathers, even when the rain was coming down in torrents and Françoise had had rushed indoors with the precious wicker armchairs, so that they should not get soaked, was seen pacing the the deserted rain-lashed garden, pushing back her disordered grey locks so that her forehead might be freer to absorb the health-giving draughts of wind and rain. She would say, 'At last one can breathe!'" MP (Swann's Way)

Dans ce livre, où il n’y a pas un seul fait qui ne soit fictif, où il n’y a pas un seul personnage « à clefs », où tout a été inventé par moi selon les besoins de ma démonstration, je dois dire, à la louange de mon pays, que seuls les parents millionnaires de Françoise ayant quitté leur retraite pour aider leur nièce sans appui, que seuls ceux-là sont des gens réels, qui existent. Gutenberg

In this book in which there is not a single incident which is not fictitious, not a single character who is a real person in disguise, in which everything has been invented by me in accordance with the requirements of my theme, I owe it to the credit of my country to say that only the millionaire cousins of Francoise who came out of retirement to help their niece when she was left without support, only they are real people who exist. ML p.225

This is a novel and even if Marcel Proust surfaced from its fictitious depths (can he really?) to say something 'true' and "réel" for him that is actual fact, I doubt that it can believed any more than Charlus or the Narrator can be believed to be 'true' and "réel" persons in this fictional work. David Foster Wallace did something similar in his novel The Pale King where he tells you that he, DFW, worked for the IRS; James Frey in his A Million Little Pieces does something dissimilar but very related when he labels the novel that he's written a memoir for which he was excoriated. Calling a work either a novel or a memoir matters in book publishing, it matters in the belief of a reader who approaches the work. There are inviolable meta-assumptions in art and calling a work fiction or non-fiction is one of them.

Prove to me that Proust didn't fictionalize the author writing such about "the millionaire cousins". You can't but you can tell me what you believe and that is as right as someone next to you who believes the exact opposite; furthermore Proust contradicts himself in the sentence, "In this book in which there is not a single incident which is not fictitious, not a single character who is a real person person in disguise..." and he proceeds to tell you of a 'true' incident and speak of 'real' people "in this book".

Marcelita wrote: "Kalliope wrote: "Venice comes back and it signals resurrection.... and Proust himself can be guessed in the text...

Ce désir que réveille chaque fois la vue d'une écuyère, qui dira jamais à quel ..."

Thank you Marcelita, for bringing up another of those internal threads, which can also be seen as giving a circularity to the full work. I will go and find the quote in the French text and compare the words.

Fionnuala wrote: "And the voyeurism displayed by Françoise,...

Sadism is not confined to brothels.. "

Very true. The scenes from the very beginning of Françoise killing the chicken with "Sale bête!, sale bête..!!", come back too.... I think that was the first scene of cruelty (sadism too?) in the work, before the montjouvain one.

Kalliope wrote: "Fionnuala wrote: "I'm on page 239, Kall, and I understand your question 'Who is Françoise?'
Prpust having glorified Françoise's relatives and declared them the only true and exact characters in the..."

It is the connecting of the so-called true and exact characters with his multi-layered Françoise creation that I found most interesting in that passage.

I'm also intrigued by the Narrator's going off to stay in a maison de santé every now and again, and these rest-home episodes allow him to skip conveniently through time. I can't help thinking of the sanitorium in The Magic Mountain which Mann was writing around the same time and wishing our Narrator would give us a peek into his own sanitorium/sanatarium existence.

Fionnuala wrote: "Kalliope wrote: "Fionnuala wrote: "I'm on page 239, Kall, and I understand your question 'Who is Françoise?'
Prpust having glorified Françoise's relatives and declared them the only true and exact ..."

Yes, and have you noticed that Hans Castorp's room was #34 and that at Jupien's hotel they were offering the Narrator #43?

You may have seen that the Notes in the GF edition draws attention to the fact that both in a "maison de santé" as well as in "maison de passe" people are addressed by their first name and that thereby Proust is linking them?.

These days I am also reading The Aspern Papers and I come upon this quote:

I don't make a bower of my room, but I'm exceedingly fond of growing flowers, of watching their ways. There is nothing unmanly in that; it has been the amusement of philosophers, of statement in retirement; even I think of great captains.

And now in Proust, when he is expressing his doubts he had experienced at a given point in time about his abilities as a writer, we come to this section:

Si j'avais vraiment une âme d'artiste quel plaisir néprouverais-je par devant ce rideau d'arbres éclairé par le soleil couchant, devant ces petites fleurs du talus qui se haussent presque jusqu'au marchepied du wagon, dont je pourrais compter les pétales, et dont je me gardais bien de décrire la couleur comme feraient tant de bons lettrés car peut-on espérer transmettre au lecteur un plaisir qu'on n'a pas ressenti. p.250

In it he identifies good writers with the ability to describe colours of flowers and thereby transmit to the reader the joy or pleasure that they have felt when observing those flowers.

And similarly to what Fionnuala pointed out earlier (#44), he however, immediately contradicts himself and jumps into describing the gold and orange and pink of the things he is observing and with great beauty.

And then continues describing his supposed indifference to the way he noticed the glass, the pink, the transparencies, and in so doing, he is however paying attention to these subtleties that would be lost to someone with no sensitivity.

Kalliope wrote: "And now in Proust, when he is expressing his doubts he had experienced at a given point in time about his abilities as a writer, we come to this section:...."

I've just come to this section - there are so many things I want to say but they will have to wait till tomorrow....

Fionnuala wrote: "
I've just come to th..."

Don't worry.. no temps perdu...

Earlier, in the part with the death of Saint-Loup the Narrator quotes his friend (Oh! ma vie, n'en parlons pas, je suis un homme condamné d'avance.) and wonders whether Saint-Loup referred to his homosexuality (vice) which he was covering up, and then uses again the botanical imagery with which he began Sodome et Gomorrhe II...

...s'imaginent pareils à la plante qui ne peut disséminer son pollen sans mourir tout de suite après? p. 244.

Another interesting playing with the chronology and with the borderline between fiction and reality.

He mentions his mother going for tea to Mme Sazérat. Supposedly this is happening around 1919.

We should remember that Proust's mother died in 1905.

I am delighted to see that the Art Gallery Bernheim-Jeune, mayor player in the establishing of the Parisian avant garde at the turn of the 19-20th centuries.

They operate still, and have a fascinating history.

http://www.bernheim-jeune.com/histoire/

In relation to the aged Charlus and his former pride (orgueil) and current more humble attitude as he meets Mme de Saint-Euverte, as Death is approaching, I think of the very many paintings on Vanitas and its long tradition...

...le salut empressé et humble du Baron à Mme de Saint-Euverte proclamait ce qu'a de fragile et de périssable l'amour des grandeurs de la terre et tout l'orgueil humain..

This sample is not too macabre.

Yes, Marcelita; when the novel begins the Narrator is indeed staying in Tansonville, as a guest of Gilberte (remember when he awakens suddenly after going to bed early and thinks: I've overslept and missed dinner and my walk with Mme. de Saint-Loup (paraphrased)). Of course we don't get who "Mme. de Saint-Loup for another, oh, thousand pages!

Eugene et al: re "starting back at the beginning" reminds me of an old physics cartoon, when physicists thought the universe might be cyclical (god knows what they think now); it shows an elderly scientist who has invented "the strongest telescope ever" peering through it and seeing...the back of his head!

Elizabeth wrote: "Yes, Marcelita; when the novel begins the Narrator is indeed staying in Tansonville, as a guest of Gilberte (remember when he awakens suddenly after going to bed early and thinks: I've overslept an..."

Yes, and to imagine, maybe, that exact evening when he had just been reading the Goncourt Journal...and almost seemed clinically depressed walking, without joy, along the 'two ways.'

"...half an hour later the thought that it was time to go to sleep would awaken me; I would try to put away the book which, I imagined, was still in my hands, and to blow out the light...." MP

As this year's readings of ISOLT close, I feel that I must become even more selfish, more attuned to why Proust is acknowledged great, in what Proust is teaching me. Not so much for what he thought, as broad as that may be, but in how he expressed his thoughts.

Taking the paragraph that begins with,

No doubt, as I saw clearly enough, a new stage had been reached in the malady of M. de Charlus... ML p. 215

and ends with,

In short his desire to be bound in chains and beaten, with all its ugliness, betrayed a dream as poetical as, in other men, the longing to go to Venice or to keep ballet-dancers. And M. de Charlus was so determined that this dream should give him the illusion of reality... ML p. 218

having read it several times, there is much to understand and s little that I questioned (does he mean this? or that?...or just what does he mean?), as it seemed that Proust didn't explain some portions as well as he could, and this "little" was very great for me, or if you will, it was my own personal music of knowing and unknowing.

One of his greatness is that Proust makes you fill in the 'blanks': what does it mean when he writes 'love is an aberration' or "...furiously pursuing a dream in a succession of individuals..."; what does it mean when he writes, "...my belief in Bergotte and in Swann which had made me love Gilberte..." and why does he bring up Françoise and Notre-Dame in Paris (that's easier after you've read it twice) and so forth. Perhaps you can answer for yourself but you can't answer for me, nor I for you, and I laud him for his in-completions, they teach that you don't have to be complete to say something.

As chronological time goes into fast-forward mode with the Narrator speaking briefly of many years going by, et beaucoup d'années passèrent, narrative time seems to reach backwards.

There are more and more references to the past, from the account of the Narrator's various flirtations with a literary career over the years - and particularly the beautiful and paradoxical passage (P 249-250) which was quoted in post #62, and which underlines his literary talent even while he attempts to deny it - to the mentioning of 'names' first heard in the first volume - la Berma, Guermantes, Gilbert le Mauvais, Combray, all laden with significance right from the beginning.

The name 'Guermantes' seems to take on the role of a trigger of memories, and perhaps almost as powerful a one as the so often quoted 'madeleine'. And not only of memories but of the weight of history, cleverly underlined by the 'modern' dwelling to which the Prince de Guermantes has moved in this new fast-forwarded time. But again, the journey to reach the 'new' takes the Narrator through the 'old', the streets where many of the episodes of his youth, and the various layers within those episodes, took place.

And then, the ghostly encounter with Charlus which takes us back to Balbec in one easy move. (P 257)

I am overwhelmed by the artistry with which this section is stitched together - and I haven't even yet reached the end.

But for all the literary genius displayed here, Proust still has time for a moment of humour - the remark about Charlus' stroke having perhaps wiped the intricacies of the social code from his mind while nevertheless leaving his wits intact, comes across as very funny in French - I hope it is equally funny in the English translation. (P 256)

And now chronological time has disappeared entirely and we have arrived at the essence des choses.

The Narrator is 'outside time', dehors du temps, poised at last to examine the newly accessible temps perdu, having first stood by and witnessed how 'past time' has encroached into the present.

ces impressions bienheureuses et qui avaient entre elles ceci de commun que je les éprouvais à la fois dans le moment actuel et dans un moment éloigné, jusqu'à faire empiéter le passé sur le présent, à me faire hésiter à savoir dans lequel des deux je me trouvais, (P 268)

Past time encroaches by means of the three moments of clarity the Narrator experiences at the home of the Prince de Guermantes.

And again there is a wonderful paradox that it is a momentary imbalance, as he treads on the uneven paving stone, that triggers the first of these insights, and which leads him finally to a position of equilibrium regarding his literary talent.


And just before he arrives at the Guermantes, he speaks again of the 'line' separating the light and the shade on the trees by the train tracks, (which had struck him earlier so forcefully but so unfruitfully), and since he mentions it while recalling the sound of the hammer striking the curved line of the wheel, I thought again of Hogarth's Line of Beauty.

Fionnuala wrote: "As chronological time goes into fast-forward mode with the Narrator speaking briefly of many years going by, et beaucoup d'années passèrent, narrative time seems to reach backwards.

There are mor..."

The fast-forwarding (beaucoup d'années passèrent - which comes with a bit of a shock, and later when speaking of Charlus - si longtemps après la guerre) reminds me of the similar effect in the latter part of Albertine disparue, and which has made some scholars think that Proust would have developed these sections into longer and more developed renditions.

In the Lettres à sa voisine, Tadié discusses the discovery, in these letters, of the importance of Clary, a friend both of Proust and of Mme Williams, (and a descendant of a family related to Napoleon). In the letters they discuss Clary's health who has lost his vision. Biographers had so far not paid too much attention to this figure.

It is thought that Clary's blindness is behind Proust making Charlus go blind towards the end of his life (Proust prêtera ce trait à Charlus vieilli.).

Fionnuala wrote: "As chronological time goes into fast-forward mode with the Narrator speaking briefly of many years going by, et beaucoup d'années passèrent, narrative time seems to reach backwards.

There are mor..."

On the humour in the Charlus section, the audio edition also makes a parody of the scene in which the nobleman is sir of enjoying listing his acquaintances who have already died... The "Mort!" after each name is read out in a very brusque manner, almost like a bark.. and the repetition eventually makes one laugh at the scene... Molièresque...

His criticism of the"instantanés" that his memory kept of Venice (the word made me think of Polaroid) because he finds them now unsatisfactory - leads him to criticize photography. And this is another echo of the Combray days and of his grandmother who back then also had expressed displeasure at photography.

Ceux qui m'assaillaient tout à l'heure au sujet de la réalité de mes dons littéraires, et même de la réalité de la littérature, se trouvaient levés comme par enchantement. Gutenberg

...as if by magic. ML p. 255

Yes, and it is a novel and I approached the paving stone, napkin, spoon parts as I approached the Madeleine moment in the Combray section correctly--for me anyway--not caring for it, seeing the gimmickry of a planned fictional closure after all the lovely characterization and writing.

I would have preferred Proust to fictionalize how he made the actual decision to become a novelist as stated in Cahiers n°8: Le Carnet de 1908.

"Not caring for it"...yes, this is the correct way of approach as I will tend to find out why I like the work, the passage, etc. rather than agree with a pejorative prejudice, of another person or of my own making. I always like 'bad' reviews, "comme par enchantement."

Wonderful term for Jupien's hotel.. Le Temple de l'Impudeur.

One more Prometheus... this morning at the Prado, and here is Titian's. I stood in front of it, thinking of Charlus... and Rubens' was further down the main gallery.

Indirect evocation of the Arabian Nights, and his Sesame moment, finally... , and using words which evoke also the general title of the work.

Mais c'est quelquefois au moment où tout nous semble perdu que l'avertissement arrive qui peut nous sauver; on a frappé à toutes les portes qui ne donnent sur rien, et la seule par où on peut entrer et qu'on aurait cherché en vain pendant cent ans, on y heurte sans le savoir et elle s'ouvre. GF p.262.

Fionnuala wrote: " as he treads on the uneven paving stone, that triggers the first of these insights, and which leads him finally to a position of equilibrium regarding his literary talent...."


Perfect description of finding his position of equilibrium regarding his literary talent..

We have reached the vault, where all the ribs meet.

Kalliope wrote: " ..It is thought that Clary's blindness is behind Proust making Charlus go blind towards the end of his life (Proust prêtera ce trait à Charlus vieilli.). ."

Again, Proust's actuality commingling with his Narrator's fictionality quite seamlessly.

And again, Jupien, of the so well-named 'Temple', double-jobbing, and way above and beyond the call of duty, to 'fill us in' on Charlus' fragile but still frolicksome state.
And perhaps the 'blindness' was called into service to excuse the pedophilia?

Fascinating the way he enacts the moment of illumination.. It is a vision that speaks to him:

Saisis-moi au passage si tu en as la force, et tâche à résoudre l'énigme de bonheur que je te propose. p. 264.

And the vision is Venice itself.

Kalliope wrote: "..We have reached the vault, where all the ribs meet.."

And what a complex, intricately planned, and truly unique vault it is!

Fionnuala wrote: "And perhaps the 'blindness' was called into service to excuse the pedophilia?
..."

Yes, very possibly... Makes a lot of sense.

Kalliope wrote: "...And the vision is Venice itself..."

I love that you chose - not a photograph!

That vault you posted, Kall? I know it can't be Saint Mark's (that would be too amazing), but where is it from?

Fionnuala wrote: "Kalliope wrote: "...

I love that you chose - not a photograph!

That vault you posted, Kall? I know it can't be Saint Mark's (that would be too amazing), but whe..."

Liebfrauenkirche, Mühlacker, 1482, (not far...!!)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vault_(a...

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mühlacker

Kalliope wrote: ".Liebfrauenkirche, Mühlacker, 1482, ..."

Sehr interessant.

Fionnuala wrote: "Kalliope wrote: ".Liebfrauenkirche, Mühlacker, 1482, ..."

Sehr interessant."

À considerer...

The thought that there is a vast difference between the real impression which we have had of a thing and the artificial impression of it which we form for ourselves when we attempt by an act of will to imagine it did not long detain me. ML p. 259

I like this--it seems apropos here--the difference between real and artificial impressions and what is an impression but a willful opinion, educated or not.

I have noticed Proust's careful choice of words when describing the happiness attained through his revelation. He does not speak of "bonheur", nor of "joie", but of "félicité", the less common term and that he repeats several times.

He uses once "allégresse" and "frémissement de bonheur", but his choice is clearly "félicité", a kind of supreme "bonheur".

Interesting concept that the "souvenir" acquires, thanks to "l'oubli" a special power...

.. il nous fait tout à coup respirer un air nouveau précisément parce que c'est un air qu'on a respiré autrefois, cet air plus pur que les poètes ont vainement essayé de faire régner dans le Paradis et qui ne pourrait donner cette sensation profonde de renouvellement que s'il avait été respiré déjà, car les vrai paradis sont les paradis qu'on a perdu. p. 267.

Kalliope wrote: "..car les vrai paradis sont les paradis qu'on a perdu..."

So the Narrator is saying that 'forgetting' allows a 'memory' to be untainted by the air of the present moment, and preserves it in its own eternal present, le paradis perdu, in one of those sealed jars he mentions, until he suddenly, by means of some trigger, accesses its contents?

I think that's a good analysis; especially the idea of a physical/sensual "trigger." For me, it's the smell of 30 weight motor oil soaked into a concrete garage floor...

Kalliope wrote: "Fionnuala wrote: "Kalliope wrote: "Proust had been indirectly alluded to (when his translations of Ruskin are mentioned by Jupien)."

Il n'y aura pas d'alerte ce soir au moins, car je me vois d'ici calciné par ce feu du ciel comme un habitant de Sodome. p.232."

"On the wall of a house in Pompeii has been found the revealing inscription: Sodoma, Gomora.” MP


http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Fil...

Marcelita hun, if you could move over to the side. I'm trying to set up this buffet table to entice more members to come in here and post in this week's thread.



Bon appetit!!!

One of my favorite passages...

"'Hearing all these promises of money, he had taken the Baron for a spy. And he was greatly relieved when he realised that he was being asked to sell not his his country but his body, which is possibly not a more moral thing to do, but less dangerous and in any case easier.'" MP

I was trying to find something that I had started reading a while back about the theme of sado-masochism in Proust's writing but found something else instead.

I'm only at the beginning of this section, but was rather disturbed reading about the chains, and receiving blows from whips and cries of pain.

http://www.esextherapy.com/dissertati...

Have a look.