Brain Pain discussion

Week One – Jan. 16, 2012

This discussion covers:

Part 1: At Mme. Swann’s
1. The Marquis de Norpois:
In Penguin (James Grieve translation): pages 1-60
Vintage Classics (Moncrieff translation): 1-67

We return to Proust and pick up our Narrator exactly where we left him. It's Paris, around the New Year holiday, and Gilberte is away so the Narrator can't meet up with her, instead he stays in his parents' apartment most of the time, takes part in a dinner party with the Marquis de Norpois and goes to the theatre to see Phedre being performed by Berma.

I think one of the most interesting themes to look out for in this section is the way Proust shows us how literature and politics are intertwined, but I don't want to start off the discussion so generally and that's something we'll see more of in this volume and the subsequent ones. In the meanwhile, how do we as readers who've watched TV instead of going to the theatre most of their lives, read the sections about going to the theatre? Do they feel dated or do we get the same sensations from watching films? Do people still go to theatre? Why is the Narrator really disappointed in Berma's performance (the text is quite vague)? And, not lastly, how do you think having read the first volume some while ago (assuming most people haven't just finished Swann's Way) affect the way you approach Within A Budding Grove?

Vague was correct in stating why Marcel didnt like Berma, but my guess was that he did like it and when others around him spoke of her poorly he just went along with them. He was sitting on his seat the whole time??? and when questioned about this of course his answer would be to stay with the the opinion of the more experienced viewers in the audience. ????

I am delighted you've agreed to moderate this discussion, Andreea, thank you. Merci beaucoup.

ut as for the "we as readers who've watched TV instead of going to the theatre most of their lives" -- speak for yourself. I've been attending theater performances for well over fifty years and worked in the theater for a number of years. :-)

I think the distinction between theater and film is (at least) four fold.

1) The ability to show setting and action is highly limited on the stage - instead we have dialog. Theater is for the most part aural and lives in the language spoken by performers. Theater is a verbal medium. TV and the screen are visual ones.

(If anyone doubts this, read some screenplays. Most of what you read is words describing action. I remember a friend of mine showing me a screenplay that she had written, adapting one of her own plays. She was pointing out a paragraph of action which would never be heard by the audience, and it was writing she was proud of.)

2) Almost all film is melodrama -- literally music drama. The score conveys a great deal. It tells you how to feel, when to be frightened. Most theater doesn't employ music. Despite melodrama originating on the stage, short of musical theater, there is rarely a score. (In many legit theaters in NYC, for example, I believe the unions would require you to pay an orchestra, which is one of the reasons.)

3) The theater is immediate in the way all live performance is. There is always a high-wire act -- we don't know whether a performer manage to execute his bag of tricks.

4) We are typically at a greater distance on the stage than in the films when the films brings us gigantic faces that can fill a 40 ft screen. The actor must be heard across the footlights and his gestures seen which always requires some degree of stylization as opposed to the hyper-realism typical of the screen. (Hyper-realism is, of course, merely a style, but it is only one of many.)

The greatest theater writers were in fact writing in high style best heard on stage by accomplished performers -- Shakespeare, Racine -- and I find only on stage does the poetry live. (Shakespeare was in fact performed only in sunlight -- there were no other options. He created night with images of night time and darkness.) I have seen a lot of Shakespeare (I have never seen Racine, both in New York and in London, as well as elsewhere, and I have seen quite a few films of Shakespeare.

I think in most cases, Shakespeare dies on film. There are exceptions.

As for the narrator and La Berma, I have two thoughts.

1) Even in classical theater, acting styles have increasingly become more "realistic". The "singing" of the lines by the generation of John Gieldgud, for example, was placed the more realistic style of Olivier.

I think it is possible that the other two (younger?) actresses whom he found illuminating were performing in a more accessible style. His complaint about La Berma was a monotone and a formality. This older style was certainly what M. de Norpois would have grown up on and been comfortable with.

And remember the narrator was going with the expectation of revealed truth.

2) I also think the narrator was describing the let down that occurs when something is built up and built up. Very little can live up to that. (One rare exception is The Altarpiece at Ghent -- if you're near Ghent, don't miss it.)

Frequently I find my response to films is colored by what I was led to expect. If one is led to expect greatness and genius, then excellence and intelligence may be a let down. If one is led to expect nothing or less than nothing, competence can be surprisingly pleasant.

Sue, it was my impression that the audience was enthusiastic, cheering and sometimes stepping on her performance with their cheers.

Bill wrote: "As for the narrator, I had assumed he was describing the let down that occurs when something is built up and built up. Very little can live up to that. Frequently I find my response to films is colored by what I was led to expect. If one is led to expect greatness and genius, then excellence and intelligence may be a let down. If one is led to expect nothing or less than nothing, competence can be quite pleasant..."

I don't have the book in front of me, but I recall that part of the let down was that the younger, less experienced actors seemed to be "acting" (read "overacting") while Berma, with her experience and superior acting skills, appears to be behaving in a normal manner rather than in a way that matches Marcel's naive ideas about what acting is supposed to look like.

Jim,

That's one possibility -- and I was tempted to list it. Perhaps it will be cleared up later in the book, but I didn't because I was suspecting that the more modern style might have been more to his taste, and legitimately so. The description of a "monotone" made me wonder about a dated and perhaps artificial style.

I also distrust the opinions of M. Norpois. :-)
I was delighted to be in the company of M. Norpois -- a wonderfully drawn character, so deliciously full of himself.

Yes I recall the audience's reaction but I still got the feeling he was just trying to hide that he was in awe of her. That's just the feeling I got. It happens in real life so many times people are afraid to go against the grain and people want to "fit in" feel they "know and understand" theatre in this case, like the more experienced theatre patrons.

As for me I will admit I am not in my element reading Proust or Woolf for that matter and I am stepping outside the box and with THANK YOU Jim for this great group you have put together for us who are novices.

Sue -- I disagree because while I think someone else might feel that way, our narrator is all about being in awe of someone, borne away by emotion, having transcendent experiences. He was looking for nothing less than greatness, wanting, wanting (perhaps) to be transformed by it.

Isn't Berma based on Sarah Bernhardt? I rather wondered where she was on the trajectory of her career at the point Proust saw her. I haven't tried checking, just the thoughts that occurred to me as I read. Certainly she had a stellar reputation from which it would be possible for any particular performance to fall short.

Eh bien, Voilà Bernhardt et sa interprétation de Phèdre

Que pensez-vous?

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/la-berma

This is Maria Casares in 1958 -- again in French.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpV6ny...

It makes one curious about Rachel another great French actress about 20 years younger than Bernhardt. I was happy to see that when I visited both their graves some years ago (in Père Lachaise) they were both adorned with flowers with bouquets so someone still cares. :-)


It could be that Bernhardt's performance was stylized for the time. But Bernhardt was only around 25 years older than Proust so if the narrator was about 15 than she would have only around 40. And the year around 1885.

But then the kind of balance between naturalism and maintaining the poetic line would hardly have been typical of the other actresses in 1885 or so, I expect.

So, Lily, I am almost certainly wrong and Jim's interpretation in #5 absolutely on target.

Win some, lose some. :-)

Bill wrote: "Eh bien, Voilà Bernhardt et sa interprétation de Phèdre

Que pensez-vous?

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/la-berma

This is Maria Casares in 1958 -- again in French.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q..."

The Bernhardt recording was great! Although the animation was a little bit creepy.

I think this scene with Marcel's imagining of La Berma versus his real-life experience of La Berma tells much about his character. His romantic imaginings of people and places become so elaborate that he sets himself up for disappointment when confronted with the simple clay form. The Gods and Goddesses of his fantasies simply do not and cannot exist in mortal form. This realization, then, becomes a philosophical meditation on the difference between art and life, or imagination and reality.

Je l'aime beaucoup.

Jim,

That was one of my original thoughts -- the his expectations were so high anyone could meet them. But in this instance, I think Bernhardt's delivery -- from the recording -- was simply not what he expected but perhaps providing more intensity than other actors of the day.

I also think speaking alexandrines with the rhymes is more demanding than speaking blank verse.

On another question related to Proust: one of the things that modernists did was refuse to meet expectations of what they're audience would normally expect in theater, poems or stories.

I wonder how Proust's narrative plays into that. On obvious difference is the explosion of detail at the expense of the plot -- and the simple delight and interest in showing Norpois, who is the main object for our consideration in these pages. It's really laugh out loud funny.

And what can we say about Norpois?

Ellie wrote: "Je l'aime beaucoup."

Qu'est-ce que c'est que vous aimez? Proust? Bernhardt? Racine?

Bill wrote: "That was one of my original thoughts -- the his expectations were so high anyone could meet them. But in this instance, I think Bernhardt's delivery -- from the recording -- was simply not what he expected but perhaps providing more intensity than other actors of the day.

What troubles me is the fact that the Narrator had expectations itself, because he tells us that this is the first play that he's ever been to. How could he compare Berma's performance with other performances if he's never watched other (theatrical) performances?

And what can we say about Norpois?"

I don't know how modernist Proust is in this first section. To me, the subject, although not so much the form of the sentences and the way the subject is unraveled, feels very 19th century French with all the salons and dinners, the famous actors, the secret mistresses ruining upper class men and the political intrigues. Norpois and his immovable face also feels very much like a minor character out of a Balzac or even a Dickens novel - he has just the right tinge of Dickensian grotesque.

I am also intrigued by King Theodosius, mainly because such a king did not exist. I think, he's a prototype/caricature of the Western monarchies that were gradually imposed by France, Britain and Prussia in Eastern Europe as countries struggled for independence from the Ottoman Empire. Otto I of Greece or Ferdinand I of Bulgaria, for example. These monarchies later on carried out a series of wars among themselves and/or the Ottoman Empire in the Balkans which precipitated WWI. Reading Proust for Fun also points out the two Roman emperors called Theodosius both introduced harsh laws against homosexuality which is an interesting piece of information, although I'm not sure how relevant.

The King Theodosius bits really got to me, because I wanted to insist that this was a real king. Proust included so many other details about real people that it didn't make sense to me that this would be a character without a confirmed real status. I did a little research and found what you did about the two Roman Empires, but I think their laws against homosexuality were probably more relevant than not. That seems like something Proust would include. I don't think he wrote about things flippantly - everything has a purpose, whether or not it seems apparent at first glance.

Andreea wrote, What troubles me is the fact that the Narrator had expectations itself, because he tells us that this is the first play that he's ever been to.

People often have idea of what an experience will be like even if they've never had the experience themselves. It's based on what they have heard about it and how that was translated in their imagination.

They are also often mistaken.

Re: Modernism I suspect you're entirely right. I was thinking perhaps only of the length at which he allows himself. In a story more conventionally shaped, it might have been trimmed. I did enjoy it very much.

One advantage of writing a novel rather than history is that you may model your characters on real people or make them up as is convenient (and not libelous). Here is Proust trying to reveal Norpois, that seems clear, and the idea of reading such an enormous amount of meaning into a relatively trivial gesture and single word, "affinities" is wonderfully satirical. It may have been easier to make this up than find it elsewhere.

Also with all the importance and implications of the word "affinities" that he elaborates, it could also be taken as am unintended satire of academic criticism -- although I feel confident this wasn't intended and the criticism of the time was, I'm suspect, quite different.

El,

I also think the notion of the author totally in conscious control of his material, no matter how meticulous he is, no matter how much he worries it to death, no matter how many drafts he writes is something of a fantasy. Too many of our motivations are not conscious and language itself has a certain slipperiness.

I also tend to believe that "the intentional fallacy" is valid, that the author's intent is not necessarily what we see in a text. The text is the source of meaning. And I'm not sure Theodosius has a particular meaning (so far revealed) in the novel.

That's true - I always have expectations one way or another, and since I don't always have basis for those expectations I find I'm wrong in the end.

I'll be away from the computer for about a week. Enjoy yourselves, everyone.

Bill wrote: "I'll be away from the computer for about a week. Enjoy yourselves, everyone."

You too! See you when you return...

Bill wrote: "I'll be away from the computer for about a week. Enjoy yourselves, everyone."

I hope you'll continue to enjoy yourself by reading Proust though. :)

El wrote: "The King Theodosius bits really got to me, because I wanted to insist that this was a real king. Proust included so many other details about real people that it didn't make sense to me that this w..."

I agree that Proust carefully selected the characters that he included in his novels, but I'm not sure if he selected the name "Theodosius" because of his connection with homosexuality laws or even if he was aware of that connection. After all, late Roman history is not really as widely taught and discussed as republican and early imperial history are. I dunno, I think we should wait and see how the character develops. Within a Budding Grove, despite its seemingly flimsy subject (the original French title at least suggests some cheap, lurid romance), was written during WWI and published right after it, that must have left a mark on both the author and the text.

On a different note, my favourite quotes from this section were the descriptions of Françoise cooking, e.g.:

And all that day, and overnight, Françoise, rejoicing in the opportunity to devote herself to that art of the kitchen,— of which she was indeed a past-master, stimulated, moreover, by the prospect of having a new guest to feed, the consciousness that she would have to compose, by methods known to her alone, a dish of beef in jelly,— had been living in the effervescence of creation; since she attached the utmost importance to the intrinsic quality of the materials which were to enter into the fabric of her work, she had gone herself to the Halles to procure the best cuts of rump-steak, shin of beef, calves’-feet, as Michelangelo passed eight months in the mountains of Carrara choosing the most perfect blocks of marble for the monument of Julius II— Françoise expended on these comings and goings so much ardour that Mamma, at the sight of her flaming cheeks, was alarmed lest our old servant should make herself ill with overwork, like the sculptor of the Tombs of the Medici in the quarries of Pietrasanta.

I know there's an element of gentle mockery in there, but I feel like it's very gentle mockery and as somebody who loves both to eat and to cook I relate to the feeling that cooking can be a creative effort as serious as any other art.

Andreea,

I hope so too. This is a relatively leisurely and literary travel. Having just finished Moby-Dick I thought to go to New Bedford. I live in Manhattan and know Nantucket well (very different these days from Melville's) but I'm ignorant of New Bedford. There are coincidentally people I really wanted to see who live nearby -- and then on to Boston for friends and a number of other reasons.

The title in French doesn't feel like a lurid romance to me -- but if that's consensus, I'll stand corrected. My French isn't good enough for that nuance. What interests me is that as opposed to the euphemistic translation of "Within a Budding Grove" -- it's not a "grove" but the girls themselves who are flowering.

But on the other hand, we are not necessarily in their midst but in their shadow -- and I wonder if the narrator wasn't in some sense describing his own growing sexuality as some how connected -- overshadowed? -- by that of the girls.

I have no idea. But the title seems odd in either language to me.

___

I think Proust is using the mock-heroic to describe cooking -- as one might describe Michelangelo's choice of marble to preparing a vast military campaign.

And I think there is about human nature which sees itself efforts, at least at times, in grand, heroic terms. Norpois sees himself that way -- so in some sense all human effort can be seen from that perspective -- Ecclesiastes so clearly suggested -- "vanity of vanities, all is vanity." :-)

But here we also see at least two kinds of artistic endeavor, sculpture and cooking, as mock- and actual heroic, and one has to think of a third, the narrator's telling of his story. We have here, I think, with his endeavor's at writing, whether or not jejune -- or perhaps particularly if they are -- a "portrait of the artist as a young man."

A là prochaine, mes amis.

Well I sure wish someone would keep explaining this book to me LOL Why is everyone so quiet ???

Bill wrote: "Andreea,

I hope so too. This is a relatively leisurely and literary travel. Having just finished Moby-Dick I thought to go to New Bedford. I live in Manhattan and know Nantucket well (very different these days from Melville's) but I'm ignorant of New Bedford. There are coincidentally people I really wanted to see who live nearby -- and then on to Boston for friends and a number of other reasons."

Oh that sounds amazing, I hope you'll have fun!

"The title in French doesn't feel like a lurid romance to me -- but if that's consensus, I'll stand corrected. My French isn't good enough for that nuance. What interests me is that as opposed to the euphemistic translation of "Within a Budding Grove" -- it's not a "grove" but the girls themselves who are flowering."

Yeahh standing in the "shadow" of girls while they "flower" sounds quite romance-y sensational-y to me. I remember that when I first read Within A Budding Grove the introduction to my copy said that Proust initially came up with "À l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs" as a joke title for a romance-y novel in a letter he wrote to one of his friends. Later when he tried to publish volume 2 of A la recherche he needed a title and after he spend a long while thinking about different possibility he eventually picked A l'ombre. But this is what I remember reading about two years ago, I have to go and look it up again in the library, there seems to be no information on it online.

But on the other hand, we are not necessarily in their midst but in their shadow -- and I wonder if the narrator wasn't in some sense describing his own growing sexuality as some how connected -- overshadowed? -- by that of the girls.

I have no idea. But the title seems odd in either language to me. "

We will have to see as the book progresses, won't we? It's still to early to tell who's standing in the shadow.

"I think Proust is using the mock-heroic to describe cooking -- as one might describe Michelangelo's choice of marble to preparing a vast military campaign."

I still don't know in what register Proust is writing, I guess it depends on how you read it. I love the fact that food is so present in A la recherche anyway, it makes the book much more alive to me. I intend to try to make Nesselrode pudding (which is the dessert served at the dinner with Norpois) this weekend. It's a kind of chestnut ice-cream, not that hard to make, but quite interesting and unusual especially if you put it in a special mold as people would back in the day ( here's the recipe and a bit more information on its history). I've also been looking for a Proust cookbook, but I haven't been able to find anything that's affordable. Proust, la cuisine retrouve looks amazing, though.

Sue wrote: "Well I sure wish someone would keep explaining this book to me LOL Why is everyone so quiet ???"

I think a lot of people are busy reading other books (e.g. getting ready for the Ulysses read) or are experiencing a mid winter reading slump and that's why the discussion is unusually quite. But never mind that, I think we can enjoy Proust even in a quitter discussion. What do you feel needs explaining in the book? The plot/characters? Or are you having trouble with the style itself? Is Proust the kind of write you have to explain away or dig through to rich a nugget of golden meaning? I dunno, I feel quite absorbed in his texts and get more excited by the mention of posh 19th century French desserts than by the possibility of unearthing some metaphysical meaning.

well I guessed I'm not looking for a.deeper meaning because that to me is quite a matter of opinion. and truly would he be trying to put hidden meanings in this huge of a book? or so we.just.want one? yes my ears perk at certain parts of the book that probably bear no meaning in life. I do get he talks a lot about the difference of love meanings again many opinions to what he meant.when writing the book. I am totally enjoying his writing style. sometime s I need the readers digest to know who and what events are taking place. are you still sendeing me your notes? I have ordered the book on understanding the books.lol spark notes if.you will lol.

Sue wrote: "well I guessed I'm not looking for a.deeper meaning because that to me is quite a matter of opinion. and truly would he be trying to put hidden meanings in this huge of a book? or so we.just.want o..."

Oh, I'm sorry I haven't sent them to you yet, I've had quite a hectic weekend and I didn't get the chance to do so, but I will later on today. I also think it's interesting that the question of pure form vs stimulating/useful inner meaning is one posed within the text itself by Norpois and the Narrator in their discussion about Bergotte's merits as a writer. The whole section is perhaps too long to quote in its entity here, but most of it is on this page. Especially since the books comes so quickly after WWI (I know I've said this before and I know it sounds like I'm beating a dead horse, but I find the whole issue quite troubling/interesting so it keeps bugging me), I feel it asks the same kind of questions about what art can do in the face of widespread trauma and/or as a response to widespread trauma that other books we've/we'll be reading do. Although Proust's answer seems to be more in favour of pure form as a defense against "the double tide of barbarians, those from without and those from within our borders" than Eliot or Joyce.

Which is just one of the reasons why people who want to read Eliot and Joyce should also try reading Proust.

I'm breezin' into Proust as we speak! I just wish the narrator, probably 15 by now, would find some romance with Mme. Swann or somethin'. I'm sure tho' M. Proust has reasons for holding back the dynamite, as it were, before lettin' us have it.

Edward wrote: "I'm breezin' into Proust as we speak! I just wish the narrator, probably 15 by now, would find some romance with Mme. Swann or somethin'. I'm sure tho' M. Proust has reasons for holding back the dy..."

I think the narrator would be disappointed if he had a little "somethin'" with Mme. Swann. For Marcel, it's all about the imagination and anticipation. A kind of mental foreplay, if you will. Marcel's imagining of La Berma, for example, and his initial disappointment when she appears on the stage in front of him. It seems that real life seldom lives up to the fantasies he creates. Poor Marcel!

I concur--poor Marcel!!! PS: was there such a guy as Bergotte in 19th century France? I would like to know if any of his novels are still around.

Edward wrote: "I concur--poor Marcel!!! PS: was there such a guy as Bergotte in 19th century France? I would like to know if any of his novels are still around."

In Patrick Alexander's guidebook , Bergotte is described as a composite character based primarily on Anatole France and possibly Joris-Karl Huysman.

Anatole France wrote a preface to Proust's first book 'Les plaisirs et les jours' in 1896, so it seems likely Proust could have based Bergotte on the quite famous writer.

Thanks, Jim!

Edward,

The most famous book by Anatole France is Penguin Island. The relevant book by Huysman is A Rebours (variously translated) in which the character des Esseintes is based on the same real life figure as the Baron de Charlus, Robert de Montesquiou.

You can also find books about de Monestquiou if you're interested.

I have read neither of these books, so I have no idea whether they will enrich your reading of Proust. :-(

Andreea wrote, "Which is just one of the reasons why people who want to read Eliot and Joyce should also try reading Proust."

You are absolutely right, as usual, though you are tough. :-) We could add Stevens and Yeats. And much of post-WW I literature, really. And then also become familiar with theater, not to mention the other arts as well.

We could also look at what's continuous and what's discontinuous, such as how pre-WWI disillusion (death of God) plays into it or how technology affects it (abstraction vs. the rise of photography, modern vs. classical physics) -- in other words everything usually found under the rubric of modernism or better yet modernismS. And perhaps some things that aren't.

This could take some time, and we may not have any for anything else. And I'm not giving up reading in other time periods either. If it's modernism or Shakespeare, it's Shakespeare for me. :-)

I'm teasing you, forgive me -- but you know what I mean?

The serious question behind this is just how much background is necessary to read? Do we all need to start learning Greek before we're allowed to cross streets by ourselves and study vigorously reading both classics and contemporary lit so we can at some point -- ideally before we're dead -- take on literature without research?

Sue,

Try this.

The narrative of In Search of Lost Time stretches over seven books -- and in the narrator comes to some understanding about how stands in relationship to love, art, his role as an writer, and the social world. He is at a different place at the end then he is at the start.

So one series of questions you might ask yourself is how does he feel about these things and how do his feelings and thoughts change.

Another question is why does he takes this somewhat unusual route -- this enormous detail, etc. -- to do that. It's Jim's general question about formal qualities.

Also -- and I think Goodreads discussions tend to try to decode things a bit to too much perhaps instead of focusing in on what the pleasures of the book are and how they are produced.

I feel a little guilty because my life has gotten in the way of reading, but I also think people find it difficult to talk about Proust -- or that beginning here with Book II we didn't quite draw enough people interested in it.

I have to say Bill I finished vol. 2 and was pleased with the book. I will say it was dry in the middle but picked up. I will continue but not right now. I am invested in Marcel and Odette but I need a break and am starting james Joyce. I have a tentancy to race.through books to get to the end sigh ....

Sue wrote: "I have to say Bill I finished vol. 2 and was pleased with the book. I will say it was dry in the middle but picked up. I will continue but not right now. I am invested in Marcel and Odette but I ne..."

Do try to drop in to these discussions as time allows. Proust and Joyce are related in many ways which should be interesting for all of us to look at as we go.

Jim,

Being the opposite of Sue, reading very slowly and carefully, reading Joyce and Proust and working on the poetry may be be overwhelming, giving other responsibilities and, sigh, desires. In which case, my first choice is Proust. However, it may be a matter of where the discussion is liveliest.

Jim wrote: "Sue wrote: "I have to say Bill I finished vol. 2 and was pleased with the book. I will say it was dry in the middle but picked up. I will continue but not right now. I am invested in Marcel and Ode..."

Jim I am following the discussion to pick out all that I missed from the book and will comment carefully, but I must say I didnt get as much out of Vol. 2 as I did Vol. 1 until the last 1/4 and then there was so much information and may read again as the group gets closer to that. I have to say my leap to read Proust has been fruitful and I do want to read the rest of the Volumes but you tossed in Joyce and Im excited to read that as I do have my cheat book LOL

Sue wrote: "I have to say my leap to read Proust has been fruitful and I do want to read the rest of the Volumes but you tossed in Joyce and Im excited to read that as I do have my cheat book LOL ..."

Awesome! Discussion starts Monday morning (after coffee)...

Bill what is really going on in the first part of Vol. 2? is he just telling us all about the parties and the people? No deeper hidden meanings LOL Enquiring minds really do want to know. haha
And from what I read here and there Vol. Two bogs people down because of all that drabble. The story perks my ears again later and then I really wanted to read Vol. 3 but before that I was ready to toss it.

Jim wrote: "Sue wrote: "I have to say my leapread Proust has been fruitful and I do want to read the rest of the Volumes but you tossed in Joyce and Im excited to read that as I do have my cheat book LOL ...."

I am lurking in all the discussions gleaning what I can from others............ I cant figure out which book to get though is there one that is better than the others? someone noted that the free kindle version was missing parts??? And there is the annotated?? what book is best I did read all that you wrote but you didnt really suggest which was best did you?

Sue wrote: "Jim wrote: "Sue wrote: "I have to say my leapread Proust has been fruitful and I do want to read the rest of the Volumes but you tossed in Joyce and Im excited to read that as I do have my cheat bo..."

I would suggest this one because I really enjoyed the introduction by Declan Kiberd



Published by Penguin.

You can get an epub version here:

http://www.penguinclassics.co.uk/nf/B...

Thank you ever so much !! Tomorrow is my day to start this I dont want to race to far ahead!! I must learn to savour !! I am going to do abit like you I am going to listen to audio Read the Cheat book then read the text !!

Sue,

I am no Proust expert. This is my first read. But I think the questions of "meaning" in art are always tricky. Since I'm preparing to lead a discussion on "The Waste Land" starting March 5, those questions are very much on my mind. What exactly do we get from literature -- "literary art"? What are the range of possible experiences? How do we increase our receptivity?

What kinds of expectations do we have, conscious or unconscious? Do they help us enjoy literature more or less? Do they positively interfere with it?

I think sometimes people read literature as though they're buying a pair of shoes and looking to find the right size. If it doesn't fit our expectations, then we never finish it (me) or rush through it (you) or say it's not any good (other people ;-) )

Or we're like little kids, it's "Mommy, are there yet?" Patience isn't a virtue -- it's a skill. :-) The thing about great literature we're always there. Sure, long works are uneven, but the best approach for me is to try to wring pleasure out of it all.

I mean, otherwise, what's the point? It's not like I'm paid to read the damn stuff. :-)

It is very, very difficult to relax those expectations -- I find it so myself -- and simply follow the author wherever he goes without tugging on his/her sleeve and asking, "why are you telling me this? huh? huh?"

Modernism challenged a lot of those conventional expectations.

I learned a lot about that during the Moby-Dick read which is in many ways a precursor of modernist fiction. It's a book that constantly defeats expectations and, to appreciate it fully, you have to put those expectations down and go with wherever the author goes -- and forget about whether Moby-Dick will in fact make an appearance.

Also with regard to "meaning" and how it can be captured -- one thing I learned from Moby-Dick is that the best approach to a large, complex, marvelously constructed creature is not to try to stick a harpoon in it. :-)

I think ISOLT is to some extent a portrait of the artist as a young man, a very different young man, obviously, than Joyce's Stephen Daedalus. Another difficulty is understanding "society" as a kind of goal. It is a very unfashionable goal these days, particularly in a time of mass culture and mass communication. But it was something of a goal then. There was apparently ambivalence about it. Proust talks about Swann disparaging the very life he was leading, as though there was no contradiction.

I also think to some extent it is difficult to talk about "meaning" of a multi-volume work when only looking at an individual volume, or parts of them.

Remember, Ulysses is a long, difficult book about a single day. It is famously a book in which, essentially, nothing happens.

Thanks Bill that gives me alot to think about. Sometimes I do think there is too much regard to "meaning" or better yet "hidden meanings" I like to read the book first not thinking about hidden meanings.
Before all the distractions that we have constantly striving for our attention I would suppose people really had patience to read these books in a different light and only to find what we look for an escape from the world we live in (at least that is why I read) instead of searching for deeper meaning????

You know, hidden meanings are fine -- although there is something to be said for meanings right in front of our face, or the pleasures.

I don't know that people read any more critically in previous years. Moby-Dick was famously a failure for Melville.

There are different ways to read. One is escape from the world -- in which case I have to say neither Proust nor Joyce nor Eliot would be the way to go. That's absolutely perverse.:-)

Then there's an escape into the world -- into a different frame of mind than required for the routine aspects of existence. Some authors make that trip more difficult than others and the reasons for it are complex. I think different times for a variety of reasons -- where the literary or artistic tradition has gone so far, the effect of technology, the particular point in world history -- seem to inspire different ways to tell stories or to sing.

I like to think I escape my world to join theirs :)